Music

Magma

Assembly Hall, Edinburgh

Rob Adams

five stars

FORTY-one years on from their previous visit to Edinburgh, Magma’s appearance in the sometime Scottish parliament was at once surreal and very real indeed. As Stella Vander, the band’s long-serving vocalist and wife of its visionary drummer-leader, Christian Vander noted, they probably won’t be able to wait that long for their next visit. Nor should they.

The music of many bands who thrived in the 1970s can sound of its time. Magma’s does too, except that its time is somewhere around the year 3578. It comes from another planet, Kobaia, with lyrics written in Kobaian, a slightly Germanic-sounding language invented by Christian Vander, and if we’re not privy to what the three vocalists – four when Vander himself adds his distinctive guttural tones – are singing about, it doesn’t really matter.

It’s more about the sound and the rhythm of their voices. As the musicians, playing guitar, bass guitar, keyboards, vibes and drums, create a procession of moods, punctuation marks and brilliantly interlinking or contrapuntal phrases, Stella Vander, Isabelle Feuillebois and Hervé Aknin, a sort of Robert Plant recast as Wagnerian tenor, act out an otherworldly drama.

Doubtless there are internal cues but over two long pieces the music changed shape, pace, direction and emphasis like the molten substance the band’s name suggests flowing and spilling at will. The shorthand references used to describe their music over the years are John Coltrane, Karl Orff and Frank Zappa, and Magma is both all of these and none. It’s an extraordinary amalgam of rage and sweetness, individual dexterity and collective creativity and even the shorter encore packed more detail, daring, excitement and musicality than can be found in many a complete discography.