MAGMA [AKA: KOBAÏA]

Magma released their self-titled debut album (retitled to Kobaïa upon its reissue in the 1980s) in late 1970, and it was quite a statement. It's a massive, sprawling double album that clocks in at over 80 minutes. It's a bit more conventional and easily digestible than the stuff Magma would eventually produce, but the band's sound was already quite established, even at this early point in time.

As far as I am aware, all of Magma's albums (minus one) are lyrically and thematically linked, and each album constitutes a new chapter in the mythos of Kobaïa. Notably, the albums do not tell the overarching story in chronological order. For example, 2004's K.A. is the earliest part of the story. Considering my assessment of Kobaïan as "not really a language" above, I have heavily relied on blogs, forum posts, and one particularly helpful magazine article to piece together the content of the narrative. Even with all this outside help though, the plot often remains fuzzy and vague. I've included my best estimation of the storyline progression at the end of this article.

Magma tells the story of humans fleeing a doomed Earth to settle the planet Kobaïa. (Fun fact, there is a village in Sierra Leone called Kobaia!) The lyrics are mostly in Kobaïan, but there is some English on Magma.

Magma's first disc tells the story of humans fleeing Earth for Kobaïa and establishing a new, harmonious society. The first song, "Kobaïa", begins with a jazzy blues groove that's almost orthodox. The lyrics are sung in English in this first part and tell how humans had to flee an apocalypse. The brass section honks and trills, adding to the tension of the piece. The song's midsection features many long, slow, drawn-out notes paired against occasional cacophonous bursts of energy.

"Aïna" follows and starts as a gentle, jazzy piece led by piano and woodwinds. By its midpoint though, the song has become more urgent, and that upward trajectory continues until its conclusion. "Malaria" continues with the tense atmosphere of the preceding tracks, and there is some lovely flute mixed in with other odd passages.

Side two kicks off with the gentle flutes of "Sohïa", which at times are evocative of King Crimson's more idyllic output. A crunchy, propulsive guitar line and reeds soon come to dominate, though. Despite being instrumental, this song's structure does an excellent job of conveying a dramatic story. There is a section led by piano and clarinet that sounds particularly ahead-of-its-time. "Sckxyss" flows right out of "Sohïa" and continues with the tight, tense jazz-rock. This is the shortest song on the album and features some powerful bass playing.

Disc one ends on "Auraë". It's a piano-focused piece and heavily features strange, dissonant intervals. Though some passages here are emblematic of Magma's more iconic sound, many passages are more akin to the jazzier Canterbury acts, like Soft Machine.

Disc two of Magma is about a traveler from Earth asking the Kobaïans to return to Earth to teach the people how to live peacefully.

"Thaud Zaïa" opens with a lone, haunting flute before the appearance of a somber piano, restrained percussion, and plaintive vocals. The saxophone unfortunately does not quite fit in this first part, and this song takes a bit too long to get going. A looming, proto-metallic guitar riff swoops in, against which the sharp saxes clash wonderfully. Despite some decent ideas, though, this is one of the weaker songs on the album, as it feels somewhat aimless.

Next is the longest song on the album, the 13-minute "Naü Extila". Written by bassist Laurent Thibault, the generous folk inclusions bear resemblance to his eventual solo album (Mais on ne peut pas rêver tout le temps, a fantastic hidden gem). After the quiet intro, it launches into a section of groovy blues rock before veering off into Van der Graaf-y percussion and saxophone. Though a bit disjointed, this song features some of the best music on Magma, and its prominent use of acoustic guitar makes it unique in Magma's oeuvre.

"Stöah" opens with shrill screeching and ugly brass, and is one of my least favorite songs on the album. Despite this unpleasantness, it shows most clearly Magma's eventual direction in its second half. The album ends with "Mûh". Some of the brass passages on here remind me of Hot Rats or other early Zappa recordings. "Mûh" is a good overall song, but by this point, the sheer length of Magma is working against it. The album is too long, and it's evident that some songs here were just slapped together.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2022/04/18/deep-dive-magma/