Meols Gold: How a two-piece with a tape recorder from the Wirral sparked a global movement
Andy McCluskey of OMD chats to The Post
By now you probably don’t need reminding of the finer details of our mini-campaign to pay off our final legal bill from fighting off Laurence Westgaph in the courts. What you might need reminding of is the fact we are about to enter the final week.
We need to reach 300 backers by next Sunday to cover the full cost of that bill, and show Westgaph that his attempts to bully us into making us reveal the identities of our sources has fully failed.
At the time I write this we stand at 165 people who have got behind us. We’ll need a big push to make it to 300. If you do sign up in this time period though you’ll get the first two months of your membership at a significant discount — just as a little extra prompt. It would be amazing to have you on board.
They had the audacity to come from Meols. They didn’t play guitars. And they harboured a curious fixation with Joan of Arc. Yet when the dust settles on Liverpool’s musical legacy of the past half-century, one name comfortably eclipses the rest: Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. While much of the city spent the late 70s and early 80s lost in a reverb-soaked guitar haze, two Wirral teenagers quietly rewired the circuitry of pop itself.
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Meols Gold: How a two-piece with a tape recorder from the Wirral sparked a global movement
Andy McCluskey of OMD chats to The Post