Ẁurdah Ïtah - Magma

Ẁurdah Ïtah (Magma, 1974)

1. Malaẁëlëkaahm - 3:38
2. Bradïa da Zïmehn Iëgah - 2:18
3. Manëh Fur Da Zëss - 1:36
4. Fur Dïhhël Kobaïa - 4:55
5. Blüm Tendiwa - 3:29
6. Wohldünt Mem Dëwëlëss - 3:30
7. Waïnsaht - 2:30
8. Wlasïk Steuhn Kobaïa - 2:47
9. Sëhnntëht Dros Wurdah Süms - 3:25
10. C'est la Vie Qui les A Menés Là! - 4:58
11. Ek Sün Da Zëss - 2:17
12. De Zeuhl Ündazïr - 3:41

The second part of the trilogy that culminates in MDK, Ẁurdah Ïtah was originally released as a Christian Vander solo album, with Vander playing all pianos and keyboards in addition to his usual vocals and percussion, and only Magma-ites Jannick Top (bass guitar), Klaus Blasquiz (lead vocals), and Stella Vander (vocals) participating. Somehow, it served double duty as the soundtrack to the French avant-garde film Tristan et Iseult (how that worked out, I have no idea),but for all its bizarre identities, it truly is a Magma album, and an essential one at that.

Like MDK, the two sides of the record (1-6 and 7-12) form one 40-minute musical movement, with an intermission in track 6 (which would have been the midway point of the whole trilogy as well). The tone palate is more focused compared to MDK: only bass guitar, piano, Fender Rhodes, and various drums/percussion make up the instrumentation, and the number of singers is reduced to three. That doesn't mean the music is any less adventurous. Turbulent chants and rhythms mingle with more reflective arias, celebratory choruses, and the occasional brain-stretching experiment.

Rhythmic play is the key to this album. My favorite part might be the beginning of "Fur Dïhhël Kobaïa" when the music dies down to a shaker or some other hand percussion, then a solitary vocal with piano comes in, at first in time with the percussion, then slowly increasing in pace while the rhythm holds steady. When the vocal reaches the new tempo, the rhythm falls back in time, but its character is changed. The album is full of similar subtle intricacies in rhythm, harmony, and structure.

Based on the overall arc of the music and the tenor of the vocals, I feel like this album portrays a time of negotiation between the Kobaïans and the Earthlings. Perhaps a Kobaïan messenger or prophet is preaching like Jonah to the Ninevites, while the humans, dead to the beauty of Kobaïa's celestial music, make ready for war.  But of course, I'm making all that up, since the tale isn't meant to be literal, and it's all Greek to me anyway. I'm not making up the quality of the music, though. This impressive opus is filled with alien melodies, dazzling rhythms, elemental jazz, symphonic compositional structures, and masterfully placed musical cues to tie it to the other works in the trilogy. Not to be missed for those so inclined.

Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 reflective arias and celebratory choruses