Ignazio Deddu | OMD - Locomotion @IchnosX3 | Uploaded 14 years ago | Updated 2 hours ago
1984) A Brit synth duo with brains under their sleek haircuts and hooks aplenty programmed into their keyboards, OMD were the best of their genre -- while seldom forgoing the dance-floor punch of electronic pop, the band revved beyond the form's limits by stressing experiment over formula, melody over beat. From the beginning, OMD, featuring Liverpool's Paul Hum-phreys and Andy McCluskey -- and, subsequently, an ever-shifting cast of players -- feverishly joined inventive sound textures and odd themes ("Electricity," "Enola Gay") to undeniable riffs. With Architecture and Morality, they strained for seriousness -- and found it in a tribute to "Joan of Arc," the tough thud of "The New Stone Age," and the languor of "She's Leaving." Spacey instrumental passages mar the record, but a live drummer compensates. Dazzle Ships is about as recherché as mainstream music gets; a postmodern critique-celebration of technology, the concept album percolates with sound effects, treated vocals, and the occasional slice of strange loveliness. With Crush, pure, luscious melody rules. Disowned (of course) by the band's cult, Crush is OMD at its most purely pop -- "So in Love" and "Secret" are flawless singles. The Singles is radio music made in heaven.
By 1991, Humphreys had split. And on Sugar Tax, McCluskey plays it pretty safe -- but "Pandora's Box," "Walk Tall," and nearly all of the album's 12 mechano-ditties make for dance-floor wonder. Liberator is even more dance-happy, though even less adventurous. (PAUL EVANS)
From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide
1984) A Brit synth duo with brains under their sleek haircuts and hooks aplenty programmed into their keyboards, OMD were the best of their genre -- while seldom forgoing the dance-floor punch of electronic pop, the band revved beyond the form's limits by stressing experiment over formula, melody over beat. From the beginning, OMD, featuring Liverpool's Paul Hum-phreys and Andy McCluskey -- and, subsequently, an ever-shifting cast of players -- feverishly joined inventive sound textures and odd themes ("Electricity," "Enola Gay") to undeniable riffs. With Architecture and Morality, they strained for seriousness -- and found it in a tribute to "Joan of Arc," the tough thud of "The New Stone Age," and the languor of "She's Leaving." Spacey instrumental passages mar the record, but a live drummer compensates. Dazzle Ships is about as recherché as mainstream music gets; a postmodern critique-celebration of technology, the concept album percolates with sound effects, treated vocals, and the occasional slice of strange loveliness. With Crush, pure, luscious melody rules. Disowned (of course) by the band's cult, Crush is OMD at its most purely pop -- "So in Love" and "Secret" are flawless singles. The Singles is radio music made in heaven.
By 1991, Humphreys had split. And on Sugar Tax, McCluskey plays it pretty safe -- but "Pandora's Box," "Walk Tall," and nearly all of the album's 12 mechano-ditties make for dance-floor wonder. Liberator is even more dance-happy, though even less adventurous. (PAUL EVANS)
From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide
