CV: Christian Vander
DL: Duncan Lane (In 1982 I went over to see three gigs in France and Belgium, after the second gig which was just inside Belgium, I made arrangements with Christian and Stella Vander for an interview - DL 1992)
DL: How did you get the A&M contract, then how did you lose it?
CV: It was all Giorgio (Gomelsky, their manager at the time). He got us the contract. We were very pleased with the way that A&M were handling us. They were very helpful. Then Giorgio was starting up his own record label, he wanted Magma to be on it, so he bought us out of the A&M contract for a very large sum. It was beyond our control.
The following year we had a whole tour of Britain arranged, but Jannick (Top) left. We had no choice; we had to cancel the tour. It was going to take a long time to find another bass player and for that person to learn all the material and, what's more, get it to the right standard. We upset and angered a lot of people who had arranged the tour, but it really wasn't our fault.
DL: There has often been a rapid turnover in Magma's line-up. Does that get you down?
CV: Yes, yes it does, because a lot of work has to be done with new musicians, it can take up to three months. Like when Jannick left, it took us six months to find a bassist, so the group was not ready until a year later. (The guitarist and keyboard players also left around this time).
We've always tried to find musicians who have some originality, that's riot easy in France. About three years ago, we were working with musicians who could play excellently, but that wasn't enough; they couldn't make the music breathe.
DL: Have people joined Magma in order to gain credibility, using it as a major step in their musical career, as happens with Zappa?
CV: It happens, but only with musicians who are not very important. Musicians have always joined Magma because they want to play the music. They are prepared to put everything into the music, but there isn't just the playing, there's a lot of hard work when you're playing night after night, with all the travelling in the van. As with the first line-up, it was O.K. when there was a concert every two months, but when it got busy they used to get tired, there was a lot of work, it was no longer just fun. I thought I was playing with people who loved music as much as me and we were also playing their compositions. They would crack. Some would be calculating how much they would get once the LP was out. I never think about that and I never know.
Still, I pay more attention to these things now, not because I'm interested in the money, but I've got no intention of plunging forward while letting myself be exploited. That simply wastes time and energy. You must understand that I was too immersed in the music. You can't imagine, but every single second I'm thinking about music. Now, Giorgio, he always said I was his brother. When he gave me a contract, I signed it without reading it saying, "Since you're my brother, you'll be looking after my interests as well". And in the contract it would be written that all Christian Vander's royalties would be paid to Giorgio Gomelsky. And, you see, I don't get any money from any of the records except for the very first one. All the money gets paid into his Swiss bank account.
DL: That's disgusting.
CV: But it's true.
DL: Have you ever considered suing him?
CV: That would take a lot of time and energy. For me it's like this: Since I was a child I always wanted to play music. I had the good fortune to meet Elvin Jones and others. It's always been an experience, I've made mistakes but, so what? it's been an apprenticeship. For most people it would be the end of the world, by now perhaps I could have had a castle, O.K., great. As for me, I like Ferraris a lot; I would love to have a Ferrari. Too bad!
DL: Many people used to regard Magma as a group of fascists, especially in France.
CV: That was because when Magma was formed, it was the hippy fashion, when people wore flowers. I used to know most of the people in Paris who dressed like that. Suddenly everyone loved each other, smoked joints and were cool. But I knew very well that there wasn't any love there and that they were a bunch of hypocrites. I didn't want to play that game, I wanted the group all to be dressed in black because it was the colour of learning - in certain sects one wears black while learning, and once enlightened, one wears white. I also felt that in that way people would not be distracted by costumes and wondering whether the bassist's socks were yellow or with little flowers. I thought it should be just the music and we played music.DL: I thought it might also have had something to do with the high level of discipline in the music, that some people may have found that threatening.
CV: Especially in France, because here they have a horror of work, even when its a question of playing one note. People think it's enough to play the notes, but it isn't. You must get inside the note. There are a thousand ways of playing a note. Even if the music is written, I still search for something else; it is never ended. When it is finished, I record it. The recorded version is the definitive version. The mood can change certain aspects of the piece, but the essence is in the recorded piece. That's why when I record something; I always take a very long time. I have to be certain that I have exploited all the possibilities, right to the end.
The last number in our set, 'Zëss', its not finished yet, not structurally. I've put in a structure so that we can perform it and the group can learn to play it. I've already spent two years working on it, and it requires another year's work. The truth is, it isn't 'Zëss' yet.
DL: Up to about six years ago, there was a dark intensity in the way Magma presented their music on stage. Although the intensity remains, the presentation is now much more colourful.
CV: This two and a half hour set of music is more accessible, but it's ten times harder to play. Each bass part is harder to play than that of 'Köhntarkösz', where there is also a lot of unison playing. People might think that because the current material is easier to listen to, it is easier to play, but a lot more work goes into the harmonies. For it to work and to be more accessible is a lot more difficult.
DL: But it's not a question of whether it's easy or not?
CV: Certainly not. The playing can be simple, but the playing must have every bit of life within it. When playing two notes, you should know exactly how to place them, to exploit each fully. As in a painting it may go directly from red to blue with no white in between, in music the one who can go from the red note directly to the blue note really has completely exploited both notes, not clipped with disjointed gestures. (He illustrates this by pretending to play bass: 'VroooommmmPingggg'.) There are no dead spaces. There is always life. That's why Jannick Top is an artist. That's the reason why when Jannick Top and I play together, just the two of us, it is so unified that the people opposite are nailed to their seats. That shows that you can command the stage with two notes. The more you know the value of notes, the less notes you play.
DL: Since about 1978, there's been a development of a theatrical side to Magma's concerts. Personally, I'm not pleased with that, especially the costumes which have been irrelevant to the music.
CV: Yes, its true. There was a problem. I imagined costumes, but you need someone to create them who is as creative in their art as someone can be in Magma. The costumes must impose something as well; they should be worthy. I hate theatre; life isn't theatre.(I should point out that their stage wear was already more subdued by this time, gradually returning to simple black. - DL)
CV: When I'm playing, I don't know if I'll still be alive at the end of the concert. Other musicians are afraid, they nevertheless think about their little comforts, their family life. That seems human, but with musicians it is not like that. I would rather perish and remain worthy. There are jazz musicians, they all talk about Coltrane, but if a club owner says that Coltrane is rubbish, they won't say anything for fear of losing their job. Me, I've been banned from all the Paris jazz clubs because of what I say about Coltrane; I don't give a damn.
When I was a kid I wanted to play jazz. I might have played jazz if I could have worked with John Coltrane's musicians, people who love music, but not what you get here. Here its not jazz, its a load of intellectuals who set themselves up as jazzmen with the clothes and act as if they've got it all sussed out. Yet they will not defend Coltrane, while Coltrane gave everything, and that's hard. I will always defend Coltrane, I have loved him since I was eleven.
Now it's normal for them all to say they like Coltrane, but they don't go beyond what he did before 1958. It was then that he moved away from the approach of the 'jazz standard'. After that, his music went onto a different level, where he would improvise on a single chord and the harmonic energy took him onto a more spiritual plane. There's virtually no one around now to defend these things, even over there (USA) among those who worked with him, among themselves they have renounced him. It's a big problem.
DL: Recently, in an interview, you said that you were very pleased with the song 'Otis' (dedicated to Otis Redding) partly because it is concise and much of its power derives from that. Do you see your future compositions sharing that particular quality?
CV: I have some pieces that are really fantastic, like 'Köhntarkösz' multiplied by fifty! I'm no longer at the stage where I need many phrases to say one thing, but sometimes the phrase has a richness that demands some repetition of it. Some people don't understand that, they find it to be repetitive music. I know there are people who have made repetitive music with meaningless notes, but when you find the right note, you can repeat it a thousand times.
DL: Is there a great difference between British and French audiences?
CV: In France audiences are very difficult. Generally, French people don't like music, they like a bit of folklore, songs with stories about love, life, drugs etc. When a number finishes, there is a little pause when they check with their neighbours before clapping. In Britain, on the other hand, they are much more spontaneous, they react directly to the music. I enjoyed playing in Britain very much.
DL: Magma's music has always been outside any musical fashion, be it disco, punk or jazz-rock. Does this ever make you feel isolated?
CV: Never. Me, I like that, I think its fantastic to approach an audience who are expecting rock or jazz-rock with a music which is neither but has such energy - it exists but it's not like anything else. I find that very stimulating.
DL: What is your favourite breakfast?
CV: Sweet coffee with concentrated milk.
© Duncan Lane - February 1982