THE BEAT GOES ON

THE BEAT GOES ON

OMD: Pilgrims' Unplanned Progress

NEW YORK—Think a minute, and recall the members of the Electronics Club at your school. If stereotypes haven’t been swept under the carpet in this supposedly liberated land, the composite you’ve created is probably male, unathletic, either scrawny or chunky, awkwardly dressed, complete with bulging toolbox, and cursed with vision correctable only with Coke bottle lenses. For years, the tinkering types, loners all, were assumed to be so introspective and unappealing that calling them “spuds” would be taken for a compliment.

So give a look and listen to the 22-year-old pair who are Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark—Andy McCluskey and Paul Humphreys—and begin to reassess that portrait of wire wizards. Friends and collaborators since their mid-teens, McClusky and Humphreys contrast well with each other, both physically and in performance. Andy is a dark-haired broody type who, attached to his bass, leaps about the stage as if he’s been hot-wired. His expenditure of voltage enlivens and gives emotional weight to O.M.D.’s attractive tunes, such as their keyboard-based British Top 10’s, “Electricity,” “Enola Gay” and “Souvenirs.”

Paul Humphreys, who is quietly composed onstage, could be a life portrait of the old rhyme that states “Tuesday’s child is fair of face,” with a large measure of Monday’s “full of grace” thrown in. At a time when most young British players look as experimental as they sound, O.M.D. are polished paragons of simplicity in sharply-creased slacks, well-made pullovers, pressed shirts and unthreatening ties. As he speaks, Humphreys’ light hair falls across his face, just as it might have done when, as a 15-year-old, he became engrossed in building strange machines.

“I got very interested in electronics and studied it like mad,” says Paul in a well-educated, only subtle Liverpudlian accent. These boys did not cruise about in some funky, glottal neighborhood. “I built a whole array of weird instruments.

“The first instrument I ever played was a noise machine which T built out of two radios set up to interfere with each other, and a whole load of wires coming out *of the box which were linked to Meccano metal strips (similar to an Erector set). Every time you touched one of the strips you got a really odd sound. We used to drive my mother crazy —all these terrible noises coming Out of her back room.” Probably the poor woman was deeply concerned that the rumblings signaled her son’s imminent electrocution, but never mind. I take great pride in my ability to change a lightbulb, while O.M.D. have turned their self-styled hobby into a very lucrative profession.

“When we started out, we didn’t give a shit. To us, it’s still a hobby. A lot of bands start out by saying, what are we gonna do to get a recording contract. Like the Human League now, they want to be the next Abba, and it shows in their songs. It’s good pop music but it’s blatant pop music and their lyrical content is the ‘don’t you want me baby’ usual love lyrics, which is miles away from what we do. We can’t contrive a hit single. We tried once and it sounded terrible. It sounded like a poor imitation of Orchestral Manoeuvres.”

With subject matter enaging from a factual account of the Hiroshima bombing to a pair of songs humanizing Joan of Arc on their second album, Architecture And Morality, it’s no wonder O.M.D. never expected to make money out of their partnership. “We never intended to get a record contract but it just so happened we got so many offers that we decided to take one.” If Paul wasn’t totally self-teasing about this “fate moves in strange ways” dimension of his working life, his ego could have cancelled his charm. Fortunately, the duo’s lack of aggressive drive also led them to stumble into whay may have been the best business descision of their lives. The offer they accepted, from Dindisc Records, included a whopping $75,000 advance.

Instead of using some of the money to book studio time, they spent almost all of it and built their own place. “We thought, what the hell, we’re not gonna sell any records, and they couldn’t take the money back. We were broke for months and months but we built a really nice place.

“The unfortunate thing is, there’s nobody to run it when we’re away, so it just lies there. It’s very much a musician’s studio. It’s an engineer’s nightmare. We know how it works, but there’s cables sticking out everywhere. It’s characteristic of how we are—messy.” Well, no one ever said that creativity and tidiness must fit together with the synthesized precision of an O.M.D. rhythmic landscape.

Toby Goldstein

WHAT NEXT, BROOKE?

Incredible! A part of an incredible trade deal with Chrysler, teen model Brooke Shields is now "standard equipment" in the backseat of every car the company sells! "It cost a lot," sighed Chrysler boss Lee lacocca, "but think of those incredible sales!" Chirped the well-known covergirl: "This is the least I can do for Chrysler-and therefore the ailing U.S. economy—and thus the entire world! Do you have a crayon?" Bubble on, sweetheart—we love you I Need a light?

Ail Texans Are Useless

HOUSTON, TX—For fifteen years, 68-year-old John Milkovich collected discarded beer cans, but it wasn’t until recently that he figured out what to do with them.

In' a truly radical home improvement move, the retired railroad worker cut off the tops and bottoms, strung them together with wire and safety pins and built a beer can shroud that completely encloses his home.

“Sometimes I think it’s foolish for a man of my age to sit around stringing tops of cans together,” he understated, “but it’s a good pastime,” Well, it sure beats introducing color television to Mozambique.

If you think the artiste is foolish, how about the art critics and students who’ve flocked here to examine this epic piece of “yard art”? “They try to put me in the same category as a sculpture,” John snorted, “but I say no way/”

The genius himself pointed out an additional feature. “When there’s a lot of wind, these things make plenty of noise.” But can they play “MacArthurPark”?

Maestro Milkovich is mischieviously vague about the actual number of cans in his Lite Curtain. “I tried counting them once,” he remarked slyly, “but I just got dizzy!”

Rick Johnson

DYLAN "WAITING ON FRIENDS"?

Scores of photographers gathered to uncover the uncanny truth: Bob Dylan, one-time hero of millions, now supports himself solely through his job as a waiter I "Bobee ees our best waiter,” cooed proud restaurateur Willie Nolan, owner of the well-known Manhattan bistro Le Dog et Suds, "and he especially has ze way with ze women!" Says waiter Bob: "Would you ladies like some fine wines this evening? Or should I just sing 'Blowln' In The Wind'?" Amid howls of laughter, the former rock icon smirked: "I told ya ya gotta serve somebody, didn't you believe me?" Frankly, Bob, no. And how come this soup is cold?

New Order (For The Old Ceremony)

NEW YORK-The word had gone out through Ruth Polsky, the booking agent handling New Order’s American tour. No interviews. They never do them. They’re trying to bring a new way of doing things to the hackneyed process of pop publicity, etc. Suspicious journalists muttered to each other about “stuck up Mancunians” (slang for people from Manchester) and “just trying to be different” and “who do they think they are.”

After all, New Order have a mystique to preserve. The band is a continuation of Joy Division, undoubtedly the single most influential band to emerge in England’s post-punk period, a disturbing and mysterious band whose lead singer, Ian Curtis, hanged himself in May 1980.

The death of Curtis gave Joy Division a legendary status in England—he was apparently a self-martyred victim of heartbreak, a very foolish and romantic notion—but well before his death Joy Division were important. They pioneered a solemn and stately, emotionladen sound (which antagonists labeled “doom-rock”) that epitomized English post-punk rock until the “new romantics” launched the challenge of their electronic dance rhythms. The list of bands that followed the Joy Division’s wake is endless. Echo and the Bunnymen, U-2, Teardrop Explodes, Wah!, the Cure, Scars, Fire Engines, Bauhaus, Killing Joke and Joseph K are just a few. Most of these may not exactly be household names in America, but in England many of them have had hits and together they have formed a powerful new pop movement.

When Curtis died, the remaining members of the band —guitarists Bernard Albrecht and Peter Hook and drummer Steve Morris, decided to carry on with a new,name, with Albrecht taking over the vocal spot. They soon added a young woman named Gillian Gilbert on guitar, bass and synthesizer.

The last Joy Division single, “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” was the ultimate ode to lover’s heartbreak, the most emotionally affecting single of 1980. The first New Order single, “Ceremony,” released in early 1981, signaled a slight change. Blessed with a haunting melody, “Ceremony’”s emotional charge was a mixed bag, full of depressed resignation but also of uplift and hope. Though “Ceremony” has never been released in the States, the first New Order album, Movement, will be out through American Rough Trade. And import sales and their own history have given New Order a considerable American following.

The first of their two New York shows is at the Ukrainian National Home, a Lower East Side meeting hall normally used for‘things like neighborhood Civic Association meetings. The managers of the place seem rather bemused by the crowds of punk rockers and assorted new wavery types streaming in to see New Order.

The show is a revelation. New Order’s music has moved a long way from “doom-rock.” It’s a heady and up-beat, celebrative sound. The guitar interplay recalls the texture and inventiveness of Television, while the synthesizer and drums add an underpinning of electrobeat dance motion. The sound is rich, captivating, full of power. Bernard Albrecht, as lead singer, can only be described as intense: he stares and glares at the audience with wide eyes and sings with heartfelt conviction.

The performance apparently takes a lot out of him, because backstage after the show I find Albrecht sprawled over a chair, his head back, staring blankly into space. Peter Hook is off in a corner, talking quietly with some friends. Steve Morris and Gillian Gilbert are fooling around with one of the roadies, scouting for the makings of a joint.

Slowly, Albrecht rouses himself from his seeming state of shock, and we start talking. Given the “no interview” policy, I’m wary of the reception I’ll get when introduced as a journalist, but Albrecht proves very friendly, and invites me along with some of his friends to go club-hopping.

Walking from the East Village to the Underground, a downtown disco, Albrecht fills me in on New Order’s American tour.

“We had a really bad time at the Toronto show. We played Masonic Hall. Our equipment broke down, and the power went out twice. But after that we went hanging out at a place called the Voodoo Club which was quite good.

“Besides Toronto the shows have all been really good, with good crowds. L.A. is really like they say it is, though, isn’t it? They really are laid back, mellow and all that.”

At the Underground, we get busy drinking Pernod and orange juice (fabulous cocktail) and spacing out to the disco beat. “This music is too samey” Albrecht reckons. “But it’s good for turning off your mind. Not good to think all the time.”

I, mention1 to Albrecht that his performance had been particularly intense.

“I was feeling really out of it. Today was the first day I’ve been on this New York schedule, staying up all night, waking up at 4 p.m. I have jet lag, discotheque lag, every kind of lag. But, It’s better than going to sleep, or sitting around the hotel room watching TV.”

The night and the cocktails go on. We hit the Continental, a new after-hours club, and finally AM/PM, stumbling out at dawn. It’s not the kind of situation conducive to a serious discussion of New Order’s music, and I don’t even try. But I did discover that behind the impenetrable veneer, New Order’s singer is an intelligent, normal guy, who doesn’t smile or joke much but who is far from being serious or pompous.

And New Order’s music is getting lighter, brighter and more compelling. That’s good news.

Richard Grabel

Tight Wheels Spite Heels

ANN ARBOR, MI-After recent reports of hearing loss, chest hair spotting and even homosexuality, still another debilitating effect has been attributed to disco.

Writing in the Journal Of The American Medical Association, two Michigan doctors state that too-tight, designer-styled roller skates can compress a nerve in the foot, leading to the muchdreaded Disco Neuropathy. The condition is rarely fatal but looks pretty stoopid on the dance floor.

The cure? Scientifically speaking, the doctors recommend “loosening tightfitting roller skates.” They concede, however, that the main problem will be teaching roller disco fans to untie them.

Rick Johnson

5 Years Ago

He's Good Bad, But He’s Not Evil

Bo Diddley recently went to Providence, Rhode Island for a one-week engagement at Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel, which is not newsworthy in itself, if Bo hadn’t decided to do a prison benefit at a local correctional institution, out of the goodness of his heart. Out of the goodness of their hearts, prison guards would not let Bo out of the pen, convinced he was a con. It took several hours of explaining...