AN IRRESISTIBLE LIFE FORCE

Ian MacDonald - 1975


SUPER NOVAE are stars that suddenly flare up with dramatic brightness. They are believed to be 'binary systems' - two stars jammed inextricably into a similar orbit. Such a star pairing will exchange energy, in the form of radiation, with unstable particles accelerating into collision. This process results in the creation of a light source of incredible intensity.

Magma are a binary system, fusing elements of music and language into volatile cohesion. Magma's entity is potentially explosive, or more correctly, implosive. Like a black hole neutron star, the end product of a twin system collapsed in upon itself under colossal inertia forces. Magma wear black. Black is neutral, a composite of all colours. It absorbs all light directed upon it; Tuareg nomads wear black to protect themselves from the Sahara sun. Black is an expression of nothingness, therefore one of totality, of infinity. It is the favoured colour of white magicians. Black hole stars present an existentialist threat to life, as we know it. They beg disturbing questions about what, if any, kind of environment could possibly exist beyond them. Alternate universes, perhaps exactly correlative to our own and in duplicate. Backward and forward time continua, with neutron stars as inter-galactic junction boxes.

Magma's cosmology concerns itself with interplanetary space (or inner mind-space, it doesn't matter on which level you approach it). Similarly, if entertained at all seriously, it demands a reassessment of Mankind's relationship to his immediate environment and to his universe. Magma's final solution necessitates radical change, apocalypse and the instigation of a new life cycle. This cycle's growth curve would be as diametrically opposed to current practice as any conceptualisation or actual discovery of an alternate universe.

Initiated and subsequently directed by drummer Christian Vander, Magma are an eight-piece French band, tucked under the wing of Yardbirds / Byg / Marmalade Records man Giorgio Gomelsky. Magma have undergone frequent personnel reshuffles during their six year existence, although Vander, his wife Stella and Basque singer Klaus Blasquiz have remained permanent fixtures, an epicentric trinity. The totality of Magma, as vehicle for the exposition of an integrated ideology, rests here, but primarily with Vander himself. Vander is reticent in conversation; Blasquiz explicit, exact and loquacious. For both men, Magma is anything but a casual involvement. Vander, grounded in jazz through gigs with Jean-Luc Ponty and Chick Corea, dreamt of forming a band to play his ideal music. Dreamt, as in vision. Revelation, as in Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus. For Vander, Magma had to happen: an obligation, a foregone necessity. Blasquiz offers a New Testament parallel/parable in comparing Magma's inception to the growth of a seed or grain fallen on fertile ground.

An irresistible life force.'Magma Live', their recently released sixth album, succeeds devastatingly in recapturing Magma's essential sound. This last was felt to be absent on 'Köhntarkösz' a project regarded by Blasquiz as Magma music, but not Magma. Although the 'Tristan et Iseult' soundtrack (from the Yvan Lagrange film interpretation of the Celtic legend), recorded with a skeleton line-up of Vander, Blasquiz, erstwhile bassist Jannick Top and Stella Vander, transpired to be more accurate in its portrayal of Magma's essence. In other words, "Magma music" - regaining the spirit of Magma. And how to define this spirit? Over to Blasquiz:

"The spirit of Magma is Zeuhl Wortz, which in its entirety is more than Magma. Magma is the instrument of the music; Zeuhl Wortz is that of all actions of which men are capable. We aspire through the strength of this spirit, which entails the transcendence of Man, towards the infinite. Because the infinite is indefinable, there are only indefinable ways of defining it. The void and nothingness, for example - and to express nothingness one must go beyond mere mortality. The concept is an abstract one, beyond mechanistics. Even though one has a musical form, which is definable, behind it lie areas which must remain totally inexplicable."

Right, before proceeding any further, explanations of Zeuhl Wortz, a key phrase in Magma's Kobaļan tongue, the language itself, and some of its accompanying mythology.

First: the mythology according to Vander. Briefly, it concerns a group of men who leave Earth some unspecified time in the future and colonise a planet, Kobaļa. There they establish a new order of humanity, based on universal respect. Neither good nor bad exist on Kobaļa, whose realisation is a triumph of White Magic, based on Love (the capital letter is Blasquiz' insistence). Kobaļa is synonymous with Harmony.

A Kobaļan mission returns to Earth and is expelled; Earth remains bent on self-destruction, thriving on systematised love of hate, jealousy and fear of the strangely new. In the ensuing struggle the Kobaļan's employ The Weapon, made of Zeuhl, a celestial metal formed from the collective mind-strength of their aspirations. This weapon is reflective, a kind of force field, re-directing Terran hate upon Earth. End of Earth, but not extermination of life, which is reborn, based on altruistic Kobaļan principles. More later.

Secondly: the language, its whys and wherefores. Kobaļan is basically phonetic not semantic - based on sonorities not on applied meanings. It was incorporated gradually into Magma's music, by improvisation. Glau, for instance, means blood and should convey the implication of some thick, glutinous liquid. Say it aloud and see; it works. Blasquiz describes Kobaļan as "a language of the heart". He continues, "People have a habit of listening to words even if they have no importance whatsoever. This hinders a fuller appreciation of the music. If conversely, words are inseparable from the music, such close correlation paradoxically tends to cancel out any interference. It does mean it's more difficult to connect initially as an effort bias to be made, although not an exceptional one. More like letting oneself go, and then penetrating, exploring the music. Some groups do everything for their audience, reaching a sort of lowest common denominator."

"That's an unfair trade because it's based on condescension. We try and achieve a two-way profit, a mutual elevation, but not on people's backs; instead, with them. Music for the people and for us: popular music in the real sense of the term. As far as the language is concerned, we could have developed a new Esperanto, but that would have been artificial and thus inconsistent. Kobaļan is however needed because we're dealing with something that's not of this world. We couldn't sing about Kobaļa in French, German, English or any existing language."

In fact, Kobaļan's closest relatives are the Indo-European caucus: Hungarian (Magyar), Finnish and Russian, all of which are about as properly phonetic as you'll get. And (by strange coincidence) Vander's Kobaļan tale aligns itself approximately with Mesapotamian and especially Indian legend. In which heroes and heroines are transported by airborne vessels to some celestial paradise, and upon their return to reality are either rejected, mistreated or even slain. Something like the Kobaļan exodus and revisitations.

Furthermore, other associations abound. The Tigris and Euphrates Basin (Old Testament Eden) has valid claim to be the primordial cradle of Eurasian civilisation. Activities are reputed to have centred on the Chaldean city of Ur and Babylon, whence science filtered down to Egypt. From Egypt, you can extend the spread as far east as China (a separate evolution altogether) and as far west as Bronze Age Britain, Brittany and, fancifully, Atlantia. But the Ancient Egyptian priesthood remain the most significant progenitors of culture. Among their heritage can be included numerology (numbers and letter characters in a unified system) and the hypothetical Golden Ratio. The latter was (is) a kind of ultra-sophisticated divine harmony, involving complex astral mathematics. It dictated the pyramid's progressive angles of inclination towards the constellations, also their ground plan. Altogether, a system of triangles, circles and intersections, extrapolated with computerised accuracy, and found in megalithic stone constructions.

Magma's symbol is delineated along similar lines and projections. It is fashioned out of bronze, as this metal is receptive, selecting positive vibrations for the benefit of protection of its bearer.In addition, the Egyptian symbol for infinity, a spiral: the mystic representation of life to be found in Celtic jewellery, the Hindu swastika and natural life forms, like seashells and plants. Thus, back to Magma

"Yes, the spiral is a very good analogy. It can be interpreted in one of two ways, either horizontally or vertically. There are many connecting points. The first time someone sees us perform they may receive an impression of force and certainty. But it's a gradual process; everything is initially not explicable. One must want to involve oneself, that's all we ask."

Imagine going into a Chinese market place and hearing a poet recite some of his work. One would be completely disorientated by the journey into China, its landscape, pace of life and so on. But there are degrees of understanding. If one stayed to listen one would begin to comprehend, but not all at once."

"Magma is more of a catchment area like that market place. We represent different aspects of a whole.
"Courage? Well we're still new, therefore often rejected, because we're a little unconventional. But we're always human, because the music is played by men. In a way the music is religious and through its ritual we can attempt to rise above our limitations. There are various levels, which evoke melody and harmony, beyond the quality of sound itself. All the same, we are perhaps misunderstood; the achievement of Love and Harmony is vital to us."

"The contact between us and our audience is like an electric circuit. Such a passing of current is similar to the function of pop music in general, but in that instance there's often an applied brutality and insensitivity. A current passes and nothing results. The experience is no more than mere noise. Surely it's wrong just to deal with the surface of things, although skin, surface and silhouette are useful as ways of understanding. They act as guides, but in a limited fashion with no implied realisation of the inner-structure - that of the heart. All the same, life isn't all mere structure or formality. One progresses gradually, step by step, towards its secrets and such advancement is an essential function of Magma. Aspiration and the growth of the spirit are similarly vital aspects. We want to welcome, embrace and include other souls alongside us and propagate Love and Harmony."

And thus Blasquiz demonstrates pretty convincingly that an awful lot of people have got their lines on Magma hopelessly wrong. Talking to both Vander and Blasquiz one rapidly gets (and retains) the impression that neither of them are the cranks - for want of a better word - they're usually made out to be. Monomaniacs, yes, but that's something else altogether.

They are both dedicated men, purposefully outlining their hopes and fears, with a minimum of indulgence and a maximum of feeling. Men, who believe in something strongly enough, to take it out into the open, in the face of predictable flak. But to each their own. You can admire Blasquiz and Vander for that or not, just as you choose. Nobody would deny that Magma's music is not at times as intimidating as it is rhythmical and lyrical. However, it's more a business of sorting out why this should be so, which entails checking through Vander's ideology in more detail. After all, ideological dedication and involvement is more often than not likely to result in corresponding musical divergence and extremism; Magma are no exception.

But back to Blasquiz' outlines of Magma's function and purpose. He refers with insistent regularity to the Beatitudes: Love and Harmony as spiritual states, states of mind. He states that their achievement is of paramount importance - an attitude that effortlessly slots the Magma focus into a more medieval framework. In effect, such aspirations (a key word) parallel with a large amount of literature produced about the Grail (the cup-reputed to be that used by the Christ at the Last Supper and possessor of remarkable healing qualities) and associated subjects. Among the writers responsible for extant material in this field one can number the French romancer Chretien de Troyes and, more importantly here, the Thirteenth Century German mystic Gottfried de Strasbourg. De Strasbourg was a Cathar, a member of a sect who believed heretically that Good and Evil were independent, equi-balanced cosmic forces, battling it out for dominion over souls through all Eternity. (In fact Catharsism was subsequently suppressed by a particularly bloody pseudo-crusade against its strongholds in Southern France led by Simon de Montfort, but that's another matter altogether).

Now, De Strasbourg also wrote up his version of the Celtic-Breton Tristan and Iseult legend. In this both hero and heroine (illicit lovers in exile) seek a rapport of increasingly spiritual intensity. They rendezvous in a vast crystal cavern and there their relationship is effectively de-sensualised: a mystic communion of souls, which is repeatedly emphasised. A cult of love, a kind of strange new religion of its own. Not that far removed from what Blasquiz hints at, and it seems more than coincidental that Vander wrote music for Lagrange's film on the subject.

Vander's conception of the struggle between Kobaļa and Earth is itself essentially Cathartic and in both senses of the term: on the one hand Good versus Evil in combat and on the other a climatic resolution of the conflict, resulting in exorcism and spiritual acceleration past accustomed levels of experience. If in doubt, observe Magma on stage and watch Vander use his customary drum solo to fulfil the latter function. However, it must be said that Vander's ideology weighs in on a more optimistic note since it envisages the ultimate triumph of Good as in White Magic.

And here is where the Kobaļan alternative is most vulnerable to sceptical assault. Vander's slant is Aryan, as in Indo-European, as in secret cabal, as in medieval Order of Templars, themselves connected with Catharsism on several counts. Aryan ideologies have tended historically towards obfuscation and, on occasion, fatal misinterpretation. For example: Nietszche's Super Man stuff, which was intended (in its original context) as an un-prejudicial blueprint for collective aspiration. Guidelines for getting Man out of his usual state of disorientation as a result of conflicting desires - those of 'the flesh' and those of 'the spirit'. And one hardly needs to mention the utterly perverted Nazi exploitation of such philosophies. However, although Nietszche accepted the Aryan propagation of knowledge as inalienable historical fact, he didn't pay as much attention to the Aryan as White Magician angle, which is where he and Vander disengage dramatically.

If one's going to take Magma at all seriously, the magic and mysticism stuff has to be accepted on its own terms. Whether it's hopelessly idealistic and/or sincerely directed at working towards a better world is something you can decide in your own time. Its importance and complete integration into Vander's ideology can't be denied. It is as explained above, medievalist, and in addition personalised. But not exclusively. Instead, a good deal more open-armed than its avatars. Just who, for example, would the initial group of exiles from Earth be, and on what basis would they be selected? As far as Blasquiz is concerned it's down to anybody who'd care to come along, whatever colour or creed. Courage and dedication to the White or Good are the only requirements to be met. Which isn't exactly that discriminatory; the Kobaļan's could be readily compared to any present day minority (political or social) struggling to assert their ideals. If you like, in dead simple expression, it's all something to do with the, '68 ethic (Love and Peace to All), which itself had plenty of religious and mythological outriders - the Glastonbury cultism and interest in Orientalism. All this wrapped up in intergalactic fuzz. Also, next to nothing to do with the post-war imperialism of sci-fi writers like Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke with their foundations, empires and mega-systems throughout the galaxies. Magma's vision is rather different, more independently adventurous, a kind of crusade. It offers a fairly accurate prediction of how Magma themselves would be handled by critics and some audiences - with acerbic disinterest. A touch of self-willed martyrdom? Unlikely, more downright realism.

Nonetheless, some would extend the authoritarian tag to Magma's music as well as to their ideology, which itself springs from a separate, spiritualist inspiration. Yes, some of the material is militaristic - stuff like 'Mekanļk Destruktļw Kommandöh'. And why? Because (and it's really this easily justified) Magma's music is intended as a soundtrack or commentary in alignment with the unravelling of Vander's tale. The Kobaļan's fight, like most soldiers they march, even though their methods of combat are based on mind-strength. Like psyching out the (by definition) fat, mean, bourgeois straights with 'good vibes' - or whatever variation on that theme you remember once crediting. Conversely, just as much of the material is lyrical (several songs on the new record, much of 'Köhntarkösz', etc.) and/or cumulative, stretching up to complete release of tension. And there's nothing objectively 'wrong' about percussive music per se. Think of Stravinsky (growth and celebration as in 'Firebird' and 'The Rites of Spring') or Bartok's abrasive string quartets. In addition, Vander's as much of a percussionist as he is a drummer, and if you investigate his favoured time signatures at all closely, you'll note correspondence between them and any amount of contemporary jazz - from Ellington to Weather Report. It's just too easy to hack up a fashionably provocative tangent, like the fascist angle. Too damn easy.

Magma's music is forceful because it's attempting to put across an equally coherent and enduring mystical overview. Point taken, it's not that readily assimilated or accepted, but a lot of the most sincerely intentioned music available finds itself denied a fair hearing in much the same way. An occupational hazard of moving into left-field and taking risks perhaps, also saddening.

But, like I said, you decide. End of apologetics.



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