It was five years ago that, in the face of local apathy, Christian Vander set about forming Magma. Vander, initially a jazz drummer, and one with a pedigree as long as your arm, had become scornful of the abilities of his jazz-improvising contemporaries. He could find no one that shared his passion for the musical and spiritual path adopted by the late John Coltrane, and, somewhat disillusioned, he ultimately abandoned the jazz scene and took whatever commercial gigs were available. Thus it was that at one point in 1969, Christian found himself laying down a half-hearted off-beat behind Arthur Conley on a tour of Italy.
On returning to France, he found that a number of French rock groups had sprung into existence, possibly motivated by the lack of visiting talent. Amongst these bands were Triangle and Martin Circus, unknown over here in the U.K. but for a while fantastically successful in France.
"The audiences were on their knees before these bands" recalls Vander, "and everyone was telling me that they were tremendous. I knew differently. There was nothing there at all".
So Vander decided that he'd alter the listening habits of France by forming his own band.
His dream was to realise this by playing music that was spiritually as well as physically satisfying. The problem was finding the right musicians. There were initially no virtuoso jazz players that were prepared to attempt Christian's experiment, so Vander looked instead for people who were not necessarily great players, but who had character, imagination and energy.
Surprisingly, the first musicians that wanted to play with him were the horn players from Johnny Halliday's band, who were honking and riffing themselves to sleep every night, playing music in which they had neither faith nor interest. Thus it was that the first inception of Magma, by Vander's own admission, was "Musically atrocious."
A twelve-piece band, it incorporated the Halliday front-line, a free jazz double bass player, Laurent Thibault on electric bass, who was later to produce the first album ("a lovely guy but he couldn't play in time"), Eddy Rabin on keyboards, the excellent Claude Engel on guitar, and René Garber on vocals. Garber, who rejoined the band last year as a contrabass clarinettist, suffered from an inability to sing in tune, and has since returned to Music College to study pipe organ. But from shaky beginnings, Magma gradually took off, having picked up Klaus Blasquiz at a demo studio, when Garber had failed to turn up for the recording.
Vander had decided that the band shouldn't sing in French, as the language is essentially a weak sounding one and as he couldn't speak any other language, he invented his own. Full of guttural noises, and strange Teutonic syllables, perhaps instinctively reflecting Vander's own background, for his roots are not in France, but rather in Poland and the Baltic forests - his grandfather was a nomadic gypsy violinist.
To make the new language functional, Vander sketched out a kind of outer-space morality play, a continuing rock cantata entitled "Theuz Hamtaahk," being a multiple-part story of relationships between Earth and an imaginary colonised planet named Kobaďa. Using this unlikely plot, Vander has created a sci-fi microcosm that bulges with all manner of contradictions and controversies, using the theme to propose all manner of arguable points. Among these, that tyrants are, or can be, guides for civilisation, and that wisdom and enlightenment can only be achieved via punishment. Strong stuff, and the recorded tales of Kobaďa so far centre on damnation rather than salvation, with multiple cyclic disasters much in evidence.
To date there have been three Magma albums: 'Magma' (French Phillips 63595 001/2 - double album), '1001 Degrees Centigrades' (French Phillips 6397.031), and - 'Mekanďk Destruktďw Kommandöh' (A&M SP-4397). Of these, only the A & M record is widely available in this country, although the first two may be obtained from better import shops.
It has to be emphasised however, that it's not just in lyric content that Magma are a force apart from the rest of rock. Musically, they're more far-reaching than any other I can think of, and absorb influences from literally every musical form, taking in elements of Bartok, Stockhausen, Carl Orff, Wagner, Coltrane, Ellington, fragments of European folk music, oriental drones, yet all the time retaining a rock 'n' roll vitality, with explosive use of dynamics. They breeze effortlessly through crippling time-changes, yet without sounding overly "intellectual" or "tricky." Indeed, at recent English Magma gigs, idiot dancers have been observed happily getting it on in 7/4 and 9/4, something unthinkable at, say, a Soft Machine concert. And speaking of the Softs, it's interesting to recall that their 'Third' was hailed as a masterpiece of invigorating invention, and we were told that the band's "crucial importance in the future of popular music cannot be denied."
That's as maybe, but it's fascinating to observe that Magma's first album is exactly contemporary with 'Third', and in compositional and instrumental terms it far outstrips the Softs' record, although the two bands at this period share a certain unity in their use of horns. The principal reed player on all of Magma's recordings has been Teddy Lasry, who's no longer with the group, but is far too important to leave out of any history. Lasry's departure has not been one of choice, but the saxophonist/flautist is only partially-sighted and cannot take the strain of life on the road. Nonetheless, Lasry helped shape the direction of the band, and contributed several compositions, notably 'Sohďa' and "Iss" Lanseď Doďa, to Magma's repertoire.
Lasry still performs with the band occasionally in France, where the group, play six-hour long sets. A somewhat daunting prospect, since the two-hour concerts they've given in England have proved to be the ultimate sensory overload. Even now, Magma continue their unstoppable path through Britain leaving behind a string of standing ovations, and a legion of new believers.
Magma's self-styled "Zeuhl Music" is like nothing else ever heard by English audiences, and yet it's met with an open, positive response almost everywhere the band has played. Christian Vander has been drumming for more years than he cares to remember, but it looks as though his time is finally at hand.
That's a word that sums up Christian Vander's attitudes to both life and music. He seems to set himself almost impossible standards and after the most stunning of performances can be observed with his head hung in despondency. For five years now, he's led various versions of Magma, and he seems to be never satisfied always urging the musicians around him to play more, and harder and harder still.
In his youth he shunned local jazz musicians for their failure to recognise Coltrane's genius, and it seems that Vander half believes that he's inherited Coltrane's mantle. "Our music is not the same", he has often said, "but ours is the same spiritual quest. Now for the first time, I've got musicians who are of one mind. Our goal is the same, which is why this version of the band is the most successful to date."
Christian generally declines to talk about the period prior to Magma's formation, feeling that then was merely a preparation for now. But repeated inquiries and investigations reveal that he was Jean Luc Ponty's drummer for a while, and has worked with other luminaries including the mighty Grachun Monchur III and Chick Corea. Ultimately, however, Vander believes that a musician has to play music that's truly his own. He loves Tamla Motown, Rhythm and Blues, early Rock music, and McCoy Tyner too. "But it's not my music, you know. There is really no point at all in being an imitator or a copyist. It's better that you don't play rather than do that. "Yet very few musicians have the courage and conviction to search deep inside themselves and play from their hearts, reflecting their own background."
Vander has in the past analysed his own musical background, and acknowledges his gypsy heritage is something of great importance. Voodoo, exorcism and trance-inducing music, are all things that he has studied, and he's fond too of the grandiosity of German music and Russian opera.
The young Gérard Bikialo's musical career was almost over before it began. A child prodigy at the piano, he used to travel 75 Kilometres unaccompanied from Montargis to Orleans at the age of nine, two days every week. The purpose of this exercise was to study at the Orleans Conservatory, and it was ideal training for a youngster set on being a concert pianist. Gérard's junior school head teacher thought differently, and banned him from attending the music college, effectively terminating his career.
Music was abandoned, but not forgotten, and nine years later, when Gerard was at university in Paris, he began to do gigs with dance bands and all sorts, before forming his own Rock and Roll band, the proceeds from which he put towards further piano lessons at Paris Conservatory. Meanwhile he was studying Mathematics and Psychology.
"But my heart wasn't really in that. Eventually I dropped out and decided to devote my life to playing music."
Once again, he was thwarted by external situations. The military demanded that he do his national service. That over, he decided to enrol at the Conservatory as a
full-time student, studying Piano and Saxophone.
"I studied on Alto Sax, because that's the easiest to learn, but later I got into Tenor as well. It was a drummer called Christian Moran who introduced me to Magma's music. He had the first album, and we just played the thing over and over, all night long. I'd never heard anything like it"
Four years later, Vander and Moran were kicking around ideas for a part-time
percussion band, and Vander happened to mention that Magma was currently without
a pianist. Moran suggested Bikialo. Eventually Gérard was asked to join Magma.
"I was terrified. Really scared. Everybody in the group was a virtuoso musician,
and I really didn't think I could do it. I'd only ever played with money orientated
guys. Still, it hasn't worked out too badly."
To an outsider, Jannick Top is certainly the weirdest member of Magma. A small, bald-headed man, with a bone-crunching handshake and quite the most startling bass guitar technique
you've ever seen, Jannick is also a mystic and philosopher. Rather than answer
questions about his past, the mysterious Top produced a hand written piece of
prose.
"This has the answers to all the questions you could ever ask" he said,
and began to read.
The rest of the band seemed overwhelmed by the bass man's profundity.
Space doesn't permit me to print the whole of Jannick's epistle, but here's a
brief excerpt:
"Music doesn't aim to instil one person's dogma in another's mind,
but like all arts, can contain an element of knowledge. And all aspects of life
are arts. The art of communication, with oneself and with others."
"A human being appears to be a touchable, palpable vehicle, governed by certain physical laws.
But the body is merely a vehicle, and there's another vehicle formed by the disassociation
of the body with substances that surround us."
"This concept of layers can be illustrated in the conscience, and is paralleled in art by attempts to get out of the eternal 'for and against' struggle."
"What Magma are aiming for is a kind of total art, absolute communication, the kind of art that built the pyramids. That art is not dead."
"I was overwhelmed," the drummer recalls, "I couldn't hear the other musicians, all I could hear was this beautiful bass guitar concerto, and I knew that I had to have him in Magma, although I realised that his inclusion would mean the destruction of the band in its current form. Jannick has changed everything.
It appears that Jannick Top will continue to change Magma. His melodic, inventive approach to the bass is certainly one of the major highlights of any Magma performance. As a soloist, he's probably without par. Certainly there's no one else in rock to touch him.
It's probably been more difficult for Michel Graillier to adapt to the rigorous discipline that Magma imposes than it has for any other band member. Michel plays electric piano, clavinet and organ, and has a long established reputation as one of France's leading jazz players. He's worked with Charles Tolliver, Slide Hampton and Steve Lacy, and recorded with Phil Woods, Johnny Griffin, Ted Curson and Hank Mobley. Aside from which, he's achieved a multiple piano album with three other keyboard players (amongst them, Christian's stepfather, Maurice Vander), and played and recorded with Barney Willen's band, Moshi. For three years he shared front line duties with Jean-Luc Ponty in the violinist's group. Naturally a certain amount of flamboyance and flair for improvisation was required to fulfil these posts, and after such "freedom," it was hard to come to terms with Magma, where soloing isn't outlawed, but where ego trips are frowned upon.
"A long time ago I realised that as an improviser I could never match any of the giants, and I readily admit that for me, freedom is most likely to he found by playing very
structured music.
"Even so, it's taken me a long while to accept that. This is actually my second period in Magma."
"I just was not strong enough to take the music first time around, but now I'm adjusting. All the same, controlling one's indulgence is a never-ending task"
At the outset of a Magma performance it will probably be the noble, operatic gestures of Klaus Blasquiz that first catch your attention. One hand on his heart and the other clawing at the air in the grand, stylised tradition.
The voice too, has an operatic precision, immensely powerful, and with perfect pitch, and a vast range of octaves sufficient to make Beefheart, Sly and Annette Peacock nervous. One minute he's scat singing high and free, and the next adding a sub-baritone melody line to Magma's symphonic structures.
"I'm trying to widen my range," he says, demonstrating the two ends
of his spectrum without the slightest, effort, rattling the floorboards with a
terrifying croaking noise.
Klaus is from France's Basque country, long famed for its singers, and began singing in churches with his family, before getting harmony parts in various local choirs. Just as with many English musicians, he began taking an interest in Rock and Roll at Art College, being initially turned on by Elvis Presley. Later he formed various semi-pro bands of his own, singing Beatles songs, Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran and others. Later he earned a local reputation as a fine Blues singer, having long abandoned his Basque roots, and adopted the conventional "Americanese".
It was Vander who motivated Klaus to utilise the
knowledge he'd acquired as a child. Klaus just happened by fate to be at Magma's
first demo recording. He was a friend of Claude Engel, the original guitarist,
and had turned up uninvited at the studio. As Magma were negotiating a few new
riffs. Klaus began singing absent-mindedly to himself. Vander stopped playing.
"That's the voice that the music needs," he said. Klaus declined the offer first
time around, deterred by the un-togetherness of the original band. Later he relented.
He's been with Magma ever since, and has seen some forty personnel shuffles.
Although the singer has not as yet contributed any compositions to Magma, he's passionately
devoted to the music.
"Magma is my life",he says, with conviction that doesn't
allow for scepticism.
A stone rock n' roller is Claude Olmos. He's seen it all, and done it all, played all the riffs from Chuck Berry through to Hendrix, Clapton and Beck. He's twenty-seven now, but at fifteen he was bopping, with "Los Gentlemen", apparently France's premier R'n'B band of the period. Years later he came to Paris and played with Alice, Coeur Magique and the Alan Jack Civilisation, none of whom were up to much he says. Sessions proved to be an early financial salvation, and like Vander before him, he accepted a number of commercial gigs, working for a while with Sylvie Vartan. And then for two years, Claude hung up his axe, and decided to study music.
He learnt to read music, and whilst at college was introduced to the music of McLaughlin and Larry Coryell, with whom he felt a certain affinity. More importantly, he discovered African and Indian music, and these, he claims, have had a more profound impact on his own style, than have any other guitarists. He also discovered Coltrane, naturellement!
"I didn't like Magma at all when I first heard them. I was impressed by their courage
in being as far-out as they were, but it was during the period when they had four
brass Players in the front line, and everybody seemed to be shooting away in different
directions".
"There seemed to be no unity of direction. So I went back to my Rock
and Roll bands".
"Then, a year later Jannick insisted that I came to one of Magma's
concerts, so I reluctantly came to a Sunday afternoon Youth Centre gig at St.
Michel and I was absolutely knocked out".
"I was really dazed. I thought, wow, this is total madness. So after the show I jammed with them and I've stayed ever since. But I'm still finding my feet".
"The temptation is to play like either a rock or jazz guitarist, but neither of those is right for Magma, so I'm trying to define a new style for myself But it's not easy."
Also none too easy is the way that Claude actually plays the guitar. Left-handed and upside down, without reversal of the strings. Thus the bottom E is at the top, and when chording, Claude strikes upwards rather than down. It looks weird as hell, but sounds fine.
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