I racked my brain for weeks trying to find the
perfect first album to review for this site. Part of me wanted it
to be a total prog rarity, but I didn't want people to think I was a
total
pompous ass. Another part of me wanted it to be something completely
totally
removed from "prog rock" altogether...but then I was worried of certain
people accusing me of "selling out." I guess you just can't win. Then I
thought of the perfect album...not too obscure, yet not something that
everyone on the planet already knows about. Also, it's by a band many
non-proggers have heard of, but haven't actually heard, and thus are
often asking me about. I speak, of course, of Magma.
Magma, for those who still haven't
heard of them, are legends in France and the entire world, really. Led
by drummer/composer/lunatic Christian Vander, a complete visionary who
blended rock, jazz, Stravinsky, Wagner, gospel, R&B, and whatever
struck
his fancy in a totally unique and unclassifiable way. And if the
unlikely
mix of musical styles weren't odd enough, he actually had the guts to
create his own language (Kobaïan) to sing the music in, deeming
French
unfit for the type of music he wanted to make (and after hearing it,
you're
likely to agree). And to explain the existence of Kobaïan, Vander
created a grandiose sci-fi mythos to explain it...something about the
end
of the world in the future, with refugees from Armageddon-wracked Earth
travelling to the planet Kobaïa. This, then, is the music of the
Kobaïans.
One has to admit how he found a large cadre of
musicians not only willing to back up Vander in his crazed vision, but
seemingly almost religiously dedicated to it. Certain key members, such
as singer Klaus Blasquiz and bassist Jannik Top, became just as
important to the Magma sound as Vander himself. Though, as tortured
artists tend to be, Vander has proven rather difficult to work with, so
there has been a high turnover rate in personnel within the band.
Still, Magma has been on the scene for over thirty years and shows no
signs of stopping any time soon, so who knows what the future holds.
There wasn't even any question in my mind
which Magma album I should review. Only one album typifies everything
Magma's adherents love about the band, as well as everything it's
detractors can't stand about them. I speak of course of their third
album, their "Magnum Opus," Mekanïk Destruktïw
Kommandöh. By this time, most of the early co-composing
members had split off to form Zao, giving Vander free-rein to carry on
with his vision unfettered. And he went totally bonkers! Armed with a
small brass/woodwinds section and a five-voice female choir (including
Vander's then-wife Stella, who in spite of their later divorce,
has remained a member to this very day), Magma made what has to be one
of
the most extreme and harrowing progressive-rock albums of
all-time.
Make no mistake, the Moody Blues this is not.
"Hortz Fur Dehn Stekëhn West" makes
its presence known immediately with a martial four-on-the-floor piano
figure, over which Vander intones...something. It must be something
important,
given the stentorian tone of his voice. Soon, he and lead singer Klaus
Blasquiz are chanting in unison over the piano figure with some light
guitar
plucks adding spice to the sound. It all sort of sounds like the evil,
Bizarro-world twin to the intro to Yes' "The Revealing Science of God."
After a couple of minutes of this, the brass/reeds section makes a
portentous
entrance, playing a haunting up-and-down (D, E, F, E) figure as
xylophone
joins the piano. Then the choir enters, joining Blasquiz' heavy
baritone
and Vander's frighteningly tremulous falsetto. Suddenly, a new section
begins...the voices now singing "Da zeuhl wortz mekanïk...etc.",
whatever
that means. Vander's voice has dropped out, and organ stabs prominently
carry this somewhat staccato segment. We get trade-offs between
Blasquiz
and the female choir/Vander, with guitar doubling the melody. There's a
brief refrain sung by Blasquiz punctuated by dramatic
brass/glockenspiel
accents, then it's back to the female choir with Vander keening over
the
top. This last segment repeats, growing in intensity until climaxing
with
a brassy fanfare. Then it's into a choppy, harrowing section, led by
Blasquiz
and featuring some blade-sharp accents from Vander and his lady
friends.
Quite unexpectedly, it bleeds into an almost gospel-like section, with
emotional vocalizing and whirling organ in the background. Then it's
back to the Euro-creepiness, with staccato unison pops of Blasquiz'
voice and the piano/xylophone. The choppy/harrowing section returns
here in an extended variation, now oddly with more black American vocal
influences in the choral background punctuations. After a rather calmer
passage featuring the women alone, Blasquiz returns in a fury of
syllables, the music growing ever more frightening behind
him, which leads us directly to...
"Ïma sürï Dondaï," and a
more different piece of music you could not find. The contrast, given
there's no sort of fade-out or gap between the two pieces, is quite
jarring if you're not prepared for it. Blasquiz' voice is now gentle
and reassuring, answered again by breathy exhortations from the choir.
Don't worry, it
won't last, as a triumphant blast of brass and a similar exultation
from
the choir can attest to. The above segment repeats, and we're treated
to
a bit of more familiar Blasquiz melodrama before returning to some more
interplay with the choir. Another figure is integrated featuring
Vander's
high-pitched trilling on top, and the three combine climaxing in more
triumphant
exultation. The choir, eventually joined by Blasquiz, indulges in some
rhythmelodic chanting as the brass and flutes play off them. This
section develops and alters subtly in an almost Stephen Reich-ian
manner, but quicker. Again, this section gradually builds, with the
choir's singing mounting in intensity, closing with another fiery
exultation in unison with the brass.
"Kobaïa is de Hündïn" arrives
with the piano carrying on the repeating 9/4 choral figure from
"Ïma sürï Dondaï," with the choir gradually joining
in on a
contrasting section. Eventually, the choir finds its own rhythm in a
slightly
more toned-down mode to what's gone on before. An ascending guitar and
brass
figure leads us into a segment with Blasquiz chanting, with ever
greater
fury and menace, the famous (if you're into Magma) chant beginning with
"Hortz fur dehn stekëhn west, hortz zi wehr dunt da herz..." Sing
along, won't you? An instrumental segment, mainly the vehicle for a
gentle
guitar solo, continues as we fade out...the break in sides of the
original
LP. Mind you, this is the remastered version. Why they couldn't
have left it continuous is beyond me. Needless to say, this is my least
favourite part, as the fade-out totally ruins the flow of the piece.
Anyway, in an apparent attempt to recreate the
sense of momentum, "Da Zeuhl wortz Mekanïk" begins from the chant
section...and rather than going into an instrumental, we proceed
directly to a rhythmic passage buoyed by the choir, and led by Vander's
falsetto interpretation of prophet Nebëhr Gudahtt. This is truly
one of the
albums most chilling, and infamous features. Though Vander begins with
normal (comparatively) singing, he eventually starts trilling like an
alien
songbird, bleeding into intense wailing. The piece concludes, oddly,
with
some seemingly R&B-influenced proclamations, all the more bizarre
given
that they're led by Vander's unearthly falsetto.
It's "Nebëhr Gudahtt," however, that has
cemented the album as bizarre music par excellence. It
certainly arrives unassuming enough, probably the softest segment, with
light piano and organ interplay, opens the track. Gradually, Vander's
voice enters, distant and searching, then with more and more presence
as the backing music swells. Here, Vander pulls out all the stops, high
pitched trills of uncommon terror, beastly growls and out-and-out
shrieking for minutes on end, as the choir chants "Ziss unt etnah"
tirelessly underneath the performance. One really
has to wonder what Vander was saying by portraying Nebëhr Gudahtt
in
this way. Was he being tortured in this "scene" or was he just supposed
to
be bloody bonkers? The liner notes are in French, so they're no help at
all...at
least to a non-Francophone like me...Anyway, when Vander's done going
psycho,
Blasquiz returns singing portentous whole notes as the music begins to
mount
yet again. The requisite throbbing Magma bass leads us into...
"Mekanïk Kommandöh," in which Vander
himself has also picked up on the "Ziss unt etnah" chant. After this
introductory passage, Blasquiz leads the choir in another series of
R&B-tinged variations. Then it's back to the "Ziss unt etnah" chant
over which Blasquiz drones like a bass synthesizer, proving he can be
every bit as weird as Vander. Suddenly, we're vaulted headlong into
another R&B variations section, this time in double-time,
as the band thrashes away tirelessly like a fusion juggernaut. This is
probably the album's emotional and musical climax...I'll amend that,
this is definitely the album's emotional and musical climax, my
jaw absolutely hit the floor when I first heard it...and mind you, this
was after the frenzy of the opening track and the madness
of "Nebëhr Gudahtt."
Most albums would have ended there. I mean,
how can you top that? The answer is, you can't, but "Kreühn
Köhrmann Iss de Hündïn" does so anyway. I think it's a
fitting coda, anyway. It's the calm after the storm, so to speak. Solo
piano opens the track, accompanied by more Blasquiz bass drones. Vander
leads the choir in a calming vocal passage (well, as calming as can be,
given Vander's highly eccentric voice). Make no mistake, no one will
confuse this with a ballad! Never
one to live up to one's expectations, it all ends with thumping
percussion,
dark brass, and tormented howls from Blasquiz. The very end is signaled
by what sounds like an audio oscillator reference tone.
Magma went on to make some more worthy albums
(such as the more minimal Köhntarkösz and the more
explicitly R&B/gospel influenced Attahk), but none reached
quite the heights of intensity (and sheer lunacy) of this one. If you
like taking chances with music, if you want to try something different
or if you're just a conoisseur of the incredibly strange, seek this one
out.
