09-14-2010, 09:54 PM
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#57 (permalink)
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Certified H00d Classic
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Bernie Sanders's yacht
Posts: 6,129
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Magma – Kobaïa (1970)
Kobaian, motherfucker - DO YOU SPEAK IT??!
1. Kobaïa (10:09)
2. Aïna (6:16)
3. Malaria (3:30)
4. Sohïa (7:00)
5. Sckxyss (3:47)
6. Auraë (10:55)
7. Thaud Zaïa (7:00)
8. Nau Ektila (12:55)
9. Stoah (8:05)
10. Muh (11:13)
Ladies and gentlemen, how many albums can you count on one hand that literally redefined the way you look at music at one point in your life or another? And perhaps even more importantly, how many of those very same albums do you still listen through on a regular basis today?
In regards to that first question, my number is five. In regards to the second question, the answer is perhaps only one or two...and this divine 1970 debut from one of France's premiere experimental bands is one of 'em.
Defining this album can be a daunting task. The jazzy elements are well within the boundaries of what groups like Soft Machine or perhaps Miles Davis's elite circle were dabbling with during the same time frame. But in 1970, how many groups were simultaneously doing concept albums around interstellar odysseys using such elements? Furthermore, how many of those same groups created a unique language to tell such a story in lyrical form, rock and jazz elements in tow?
As a certain relatively famous meme goes-
Christian Vander, drummer extraordinaire and Magma's founder, created the Zeuhl language as a way for audiences to feel the music in a more phonetic sense rather than judging it on the merit of lyrical relevancy. The words and music, hence, are inexorably linked regardless of any meaning derived, hearkening back to an earlier time in human history when music was a touch more primal and less self-conscious. Unfortunately, me typing out all this sounds like a load of pretentious bull, so I'll let the opening title track, a 10-minute smorgasbord of brilliant ideas and swinging rhythms, speak for it's magnificent self instead.
Whether one gives a damn about the dramatic lyrical content in question is of no consequence however. Kobaia's instrumentation is splendily rich and varied from track to track - highlights include the curiously loungish 'Aïna', which waltzes to a post-bop kick whilst still giving itself a quirky sense of identity all the while..as well as the the surreal 'Naü Ektila', a 12 minute excursion into Neptunian psychedelic folk performed by that world's otherworldly equivalent to the Mahavishnu Orchestra...and we can't imagine what they might look like. Seeing them might give us nightmares.
So as some of you might have guessed by this point, this is the album that started the Zeuhl genre as its practitioners know it, from France to Japan to the U.K...to pretty much everywhere. Although Magma would begin setting new standards with the inclusion of a more operatic approach on coming works, this zany initial recording set the bar quite high at the time of its release, and even today serves as inspiration for those wanting to wet their chops on the avant-garde...or for those who just want to play weird, complicated music to wow their friends and family. Either way, the influence is a positive one.
This, Romans and countrymen, was the album that introduced me to a lot of experimental (and generally jazz oriented) music about seven years ago when I was a weeee lad in a ginormous high school of failure, and in retrospect did a swell job back then at opening my ears to new possibilities instead of fostering an attitude of spitting on anything that couldn't make girls dance around in stupid ways.
In short, I fucking love this album and everything it represents. It won't hit you immediately, but when it does you'll be glad you were letting it play in the background for the last hour and a half. Hell, it may even change your life.
Good night mates, and bon appétit!!
Last edited by Anteater; 09-14-2010 at 09:59 PM.
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