AlexBallMusic Digs into the Synths Behind OMD’s ‘Enola Gay’

In an era where online shopping was but a sci-fi fantasy, the catalogue was king. Andy McCluskey’s choice of synths to breathe life into OMD’s ‘Enola Gay’ involved a curious selection, starting with the humble Korg MicroPreset. Found in the depths of a Littlewoods catalogue, this synth was the cheapest available, a curry’s worth of £7.76 per week over 36 weeks. Adjusted for today’s inflation, that’d cost a nifty £1,500. Simple, stripped-back, and slightly unwieldy, it was far from perfect, but it inspired that raw creativity which OMD thrived on. The presets were limited, offering brass, strings, woodwinds, and one bizarre setting that Alex cheekily dubbed a ‘cow’. With a bit of polyrhythmic finesse, the band squeezed the most out of this micro box, using manual octave switches to create roundabout sequences without a sequencer. While recording ‘Messages’, they stumbled over an accidental sharp pitch tweak, forcing them to transpose other parts, teaching us that necessity truly is the mother of invention.

While MicroPreset might’ve been OMD’s scrappy contender, they’d also taken on some Roland heavyweights – the SH-1, SH-09, and notably, the SH-2 for ‘Enola Gay’. One could almost say these Roland beasts are the pub bouncers to MicroPreset’s barmaid. Though recalled as their main player, discovering the specific sound sources used isn’t without hiccups. Add the Elgam Symphony 200 to the mix, an organ lending its polyphonic might to the track, or was it? Confusion reigned at a Liverpool exhibition claiming the Vox Jaguar’s involvement instead. Regardless, with a borrowed Vox Jaguar at hand, Alex kept us guessing. On percussion, the clandestine CR-78 made its mark, programmed by the wizard ‘Benge’, conjuring beats with a sustain pedal rather than Roland’s elusive WS-1 programmer – because who likes things that make sense? The collaboration with drummer Jonathan Wills further blurred lines with single-drum tracking, an approach that adds layers to OMD’s sonic sculpting, embracing chaotic accidents as happy artistic flukes.

Rarely do such humble beginnings get to stardom, but OMD’s synth setup was forged from the mundane. The idea that such twee, borderline naff sounds could become anthemic seems odd, but Alex illustrates how these sloppy, cheap sounds defined an era. The crux was transforming the MicroPreset’s lacklustre tones with the Roland SH-2 to fashion sounds that truly propelled them. Through meticulous studio trickery, minor details emerged – synchronising synth parts that didn’t quite match and were played differently across respective layers. A difference you’d never detect unless you were a sonic detective scrutinising every inch of tape. And when talking about the bass, Alex manages to blend organic and synthetic effortlessly. With the SH-2 again lending its heft to the dynamic lower end, alongside a cheekily played, upside-down bass guitar, these juxtaposed tones merged to create an unorthodox yet compelling foundation. Such creativity showcases how hitting the high notes is about more than just skillful playing.

In the smoke and mirrors of audio production, effects play the cunning role of illusionist. Ridge Farm Studio was the stomping ground where OMD squeezed the juice from its synth fruit. With an Eventide H910 harmoniser leading the charge, crafting those soundscapes meant twiddling with the sonic palette in adventurous ways. Described as ‘ramming the noise’ through the harmonisers, the result was anything but subtle. Let’s just say the Eventide was the punk gig of effects—a chaotic harmony of sharp and flat pitches that broadened the sonic horizon. A testament to lo-fi solutions with hi-fi results. Reverbs weren’t left behind either. From springy AKG BX10s to elusive EMT plates, they approached things with curious gusto. Perhaps such hidden details are whispers in the sonic storm, but as Alex demonstrates, it’s the textural contrast that these effects provided which polished their rough diamonds into slick tunes. In his whimsical style, Alex reveals how these layers, paired with raw recorded sounds, birthed anthems like ‘Enola Gay’, keeping its ingenious spunk intact.