Artist: Magma
Label: Seventh Records
Release: 1974
Rating: 4.5/5
If Magma created the template for a genre called zeuhl with Mekanik Destruktiw Komandoh, here they went in a different direction. MDK is packed with rich, layered chants, battle horns and manic drumming, while Köhntarkösz is far calmer and more meditative. It all sounds simpler and more stripped-back, but just as effective. On this album Vander gathered a much smaller crew around him than on the previous one. Only musicians playing the usual rock instruments take part. The album continues the story of the planet Kobaia and the prophet Köhntarkösz. The record means a lot to its creator, since Magma still play the title track plenty of times. For a long time I didn’t get why people think so highly of it, it just never clicked with me, but as often happens with albums I end up loving, it eventually grew on me.
The album opens with mighty chords on the organ, backed by expert drumming. Blasquiz and Top join in on vocals and bass. The tempo is pretty slow and the melody goes round in circles. Gradually it builds up as other instruments (piano, guitar) come in. The piano takes over the role of the main keys, while the organ occasionally plays solos that sound a lot like the Canterbury style (Caravan, Soft Machine). To make things even more interesting, Stella Vander joins in on vocals. You can still feel a strong minimalist influence, since the melodies are repetitive and very basic, but they’re still not simple, because the time signatures and rhythms are highly complex. The music is very compact and, despite its apparent simplicity, demanding. Blasquiz’s falsetto and Stella’s soulful voice, accompanied by piano, carry us into the next part. It starts with a piano theme that was already present at the end of the first part. In this part too, the other musicians gradually join in and the track starts to develop. The organ solo again recalls Canterbury, though in a somewhat darker and more introspective version. Vander plays with great skill but holds back, as if waiting for an explosion. It arrives at around the six-minute mark, and he finally gets his chance for some jazz-rock acrobatics. With this dramatic rhythm change the track comes alive, yet the same melody is kept, just with livelier drums and a booming bass. Here Top shows his trademark bass style for the first time, hammering the strings with incredible force so that at times the bass sounds almost like a guitar. Near the end Vander also gets his moment on vocals and sings the words of the prophet Kohntarkosz, who stands in the tomb of another prophet, Ëmëhntëht-Rê. Blasquiz then wraps up the epic composition with a Buddhist bass chant. The whole piece vividly conjures the atmosphere of entering the tomb of Ëmëhntëht-Rê. Ork Alarm is the only piece on this album not forged by Vander, but by Top. The song is about an attack by the people of Ork, and Top himself explained the composition like this: “The people of Ork are coming to do battle. These people are made of indescribable matter, which is to machines what machines are to humans. The alarm has sounded…ORK ALARM! The people of ZEUHL WORTZ are preparing for the duel…” The literary intro to the song sounds better than the music itself. Top develops a similar theme to the one he’d later use on Üdü Wüdü, only here there’s cello as well. It’s a repetitive chant made up of vocals, bass, cello and clavinet. On Üdü Wüdü Top polished his ideas further, but here it’s just one idea, and an underdeveloped one that gets repeated too many times. There’s not much build-up compared to the title track. Ork Alarm ends with manic laughter from (probably) Top. Coltrane Sundia (Rest in Peace, Coltrane) is a beautiful lament for the jazz legend John Coltrane, on piano and guitar. Here Vander pays tribute to his favorite musician. It’s one of Magma’s few instrumentals (no vocals) and already hints a little at the style of Wurdah Ïtah (piano up front, similar melodies), the next album. The piano here is probably played by Vander himself, since the song is so personal and emotional.
The title track Köhntarkösz was split into two parts on the vinyl release, each on its own side. That came down to the time limits of vinyl (similar to Brain Salad Surgery by Emerson, Lake and Palmer). On CD the order is finally right, with the two parts following each other. Sadly they still don’t flow into one another the way they do in the live versions, but never mind. Sure, the live versions of the title track are more dynamic, but this version has a certain gentleness, calm and transcendence that the live ones just can’t match. Köhntarkösz holds cosmic music from another planet. The album is more repetitive and spiritual than any other by the band. In terms of complexity I wouldn’t rank it among their heavier ones (sometimes it’s just a few piano chords repeating), but there are plenty of changes in tempo, rhythm, time signature and arrangement. The record may not be varied enough for most prog rock fans, but it’s undoubtedly something new and different, and for me it’s a superb piece of work, even if not their best. Yet another album that doesn’t sound like anything else in their discography. As the very translation of the name zeuhl says, this really is heavenly music.
Lineup
– Christian Vander: drums, piano, percussion, vocals
– Jannick Top: bass, cello, vocals, piano
– Klauss Blasquiz: vocals, percussion
– Gérard Bikialo: keyboards, Yamaha organ
– Michel Grailler: keyboards, clavinet
– Stella Vander: vocals
– Brian Godding: guitar
Production
Giorgio Gomelsky
Tracklist
1. Köhntarkösz (Part One) 15:22
2. Köhntarkösz (Part Two) 15:55
3. Ork Alarm 5:28
4. Coltrane Sündïa 4:11
