Mëkanïk Dëstruktïẁ Kömmandöh - Magma

Mëkanïk Dëstruktïẁ Kömmandöh - Magma, 1973

1. Hortz Fur Dëhn Štekëhn Ẁešt - 9:36
2. Ïma Süri Dondaï - 4:30
3. Kobaïa Is de Hündïn - 3:34
4. Da Zeuhl Ẁortz Mëkanïk - 7:48
5. Nebëhr Gudahtt - 6:02
6. Mëkanïk Kömmandöh - 4:10
7. Kreühn Köhrmahn Ïss Dëh Hündïn - 3:13

A classically influenced choral song cycle sung in the language of a colonizing alien race, Magma's Mëkanïk Dëstruktïẁ Kömmandöh is the pinnacle of this unique French band's musical vision. Originally written as the third part of a trilogy chronicling the war between Kobaïa and Earth, it was the first to be recorded, with part two (Ẁurdah Ïtah) following the next year, and the first (Theusz Hamtaahk) only released on live albums.

Though divided into seven tracks, Mëkanïk Dëstruktïẁ Kömmandöh is a single musical piece, with a break between tracks 3 and 4 (where you would have had to turn over the record). The music is heavily percussive, with drums, piano, xylophone, and other tuned percussion driving the songs forward. Rhythmic repetition and manipulation create a ritualistic, hypnotic, primal sound that resembles chant. Brass, woodwinds, electric guitar, bass, piano, organ, and synthesizer flesh out the megalithic sound, but the real motive force is found in the impassioned choral vocal arrangements. Turning on a dime from heavenly, almost gospel-influenced celebrations to operatic screams, wails, and portents, the singers on this project truly create the atmosphere and communicate the tale in spite of the "language" barrier.

The story (so I'm told) involves the benevolent Kobaïans offering their protection to the remaining humans on Earth, as long as they adopt Kobaïan culture and religion. The recalcitrant humans refuse, forcing the aliens to unleash technological destruction. The music is sufficiently doom-laden and intense, yet there are many moments of musical light throughout. The pacing and dynamics are perfect, ratcheting up the intensity only to release it in cyclical patterns of musical catharsis.

For the adventurous, Magma offers a unique and compelling musical vision. At times frightening, at others uplifting, this French group created music the like of which can be encountered nowhere else.

Arbitrary rating:  5 out of 5 operatic screams, wails, and portents

1001° Centigrades - Magma

1001° Centigrades - Magma (1971)

1. Rïah Sahïltaahk - 21:45
2. "Iss" Lanseï Doïa - 11:46
3. Ki Ïahl Ö Lïahk - 8:23

French progressive band Magma stands alone in the annals of rock music. Founding member and primary composer Christian Vander (drums) sought to tell an epic tale, spread over ten albums, about the destruction of Earth, the assimilation of humanity into an alien race on the planet Kobaïa, and the conflict between the Kobaïans and the remnant of humanity left behind on Earth. Since human culture ultimately does not survive, the story is told by the alien overlords, in their own language. The fact that the albums are sung in Kobaïan, a phonetic language invented by the band, is just one of many other-worldly elements of the music.

The three lengthy pieces on Magma's second album are stylistically rooted in jazz, but they also feature many of the musical elements the band would make their trademark: rhythmic repetition, complex song structure, creative chord changes, chant-like melodies, and (of course) Kobaïan lyrics. I believe the story centers around the Kobaïans returning to an almost uninhabitable Earth to search for other human survivors, but I can't prove it... The jazz focus lightens the sound of an otherwise intense album, with plenty of adventurous horn and woodwind charts decorating the complex structures. The opening "Rïah Sahïltaahk" is a veritable cornucopia of styles, encompassing up-tempo (almost danceable) Kobaïan party songs, symphonic instrumental vignettes, creative jazz arrangements, and menacing monotone war chants, punctuated by percussive blasts from Vander. The whole forms an organic and entrancing journey - impressive in its own right, but also a noteworthy warm-up for the band's later album-length song suites.

The two other songs offer musical treasures of their own. "'Iss' Lanseï Doïa" starts with mercurial bass, piano, and fluttering woodwinds before picking up into a horn-led modern jazz madrigal replete with intertwining harmonies among the many instrumentalists. When lead singer Klaus Blasquiz comes in, he lurches back and forth between a sunny theme and a guttural, amelodic vocal over chilly Fender Rhodes piano and haunting xylophone. Fascinating. The closing "Ki Ïahl Ö Lïahk" features some more traditional musical elements, including an impressive piano solo from Francois Cahen, but it too cycles through a fair number of styles, alternatively invigorating and spooky.

Perhaps a bit more inviting than later Magma albums, 1001° Centigrades is an impressive opus in the realm of creative rock and jazz. Though jazz never disappears from the band's palate, the sound would morph drastically with their next album...

Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 modern jazz madrigals

Ziltoid the Omniscient - Devin Townsend

Ziltoid the Omniscient (Devin Townsend, 2007)

1. ZTO - 1:18
2. By Your Command - 8:10
3. Ziltoidia Attaxx!!! - 3:43
4. Solar Winds - 9:46
5. Hyperdrive - 3:47
6. N9 - 5:30
7. Planet Smasher - 5:45
8. Omnidimensional Creator - 0:48
9. Color Your World - 9:44
10. The Greys - 4:15
11. Tall Latte - 1:03

What a trip!  An unholy alliance of progressive rock, death metal, Broadway, ambient, choral, spoken word, science fiction, and (most importantly) humor, Ziltoid the Omniscient charts the nefarious doings of the title character, a self-important, megalomaniacal alien who seeks to destroy Earth after the humans fail to deliver him the ultimate cup of coffee. The over-the-top story hides a fairly humble message: that behind the biggest bluster lies frailty and smallness.

Though every element of this album is pretty fantastic, my favorite part is the humor, particularly the spoken word portions. Everything is delivered with such a grandiose mock-seriousness, particularly Ziltoid's lines. Consider these chestnuts (though I feel like I should be typing them in all caps):

"If there were to be two omnisciences, I would be both! Prepare for the subjugation!"
"Check this out!" (crazy guitar solo) "Simple!  I am the greatest guitar player ever to have lived!"
"Curses! They must have jumped into hyperdrive. Phooey!  Indeed, phooey!"

The music is complex and intense, with layer upon layer of orchestration. Townsend plays all instruments, including the drum machine - and it qualifies as artistic use of what is often thought of as a cheat.  No one could play the drum parts on this album - he programmed unnatural, intense, brutal drums in the heavy sections, adding an alien musicality to his extraterrestrial narrative.  However, there are many moments of tender beauty and mystery in the music as well, particularly in "Solar Winds", "N9", and "Color Your World". Multiple vocal parts form harmonies and choirs at key points, and the emotional arc of the music matches the story.

The story isn't strictly an amusing sci-fi concept. It bleeds through to metafiction and metaphysics with ease, and it is easy to see the world-conquering alien who can't conquer a world as the ambitious musician trying to write "the greatest album ever". This self-deprecating twist makes the album endearing and humble, odd words for an opus that, on the surface, is a pretentious and demanding musical journey, and that certainly is a virtuostic and larger-than-life creation.

Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 self-deprecating twists

Flight To Arras - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Flight To Arras (Saint-Exupery, 1942)

A memoir of the final days of France's fight against the invading Germans in 1940, Flight to Arras covers a lot of philosophical and emotional ground. Saint-Exupery uses a flight into German territory as a springboard for portraying the disillusion, disorder, and seeming futility of the final missions of a French army in defeat. Forced to offer his life on a meaningless mission almost certain to end in death, his brush with mortality reawakens him to the reason he is fighting in the first place.

The stirring realism of the book puts you in the cockpit of a touchy, malfunctioning fighter plane, attacked by invisible bands of German pilots and an intense barrage of anti-aircraft gunnery as it attempts to gather intelligence on the German position and arms. There is no glorification or bragging here, rather the picture of men performing duty, the details and immediate needs of their situation distracting them from comprehending the shadow of impending death.

Since Saint-Exupery is a poet at heart, there are several deeply poetic scenes and images mixing freely with the exploding shells and rising flames of the burning town. He also chronicles the general picture of France's retreat: streets clogged with evacuating people, lines cut between commanders and front line soldiers, men fighting and dying to no purpose, with no ability to stop the invading army.

At the end, Saint-Exupery has several epiphanies which contain a lot of truth, but his conclusions ultimately fall short for me.  The next to last chapter is the most convincing sermon for secular humanism that I've ever heard, but I'm still not convinced. He concludes (truly) that men must have something greater than themselves to live and die for; that each person and culture has value beyond the mere number of people or the individual identities of each person; that equality transcends identity or sameness; and that a great community will risk one for many AND many for one. The recurring image he has is that of a heap of stones opposed to a cathedral. The problem is, his cathedral has significance merely as a work of architectural art and cultural heritage. Feeling that God can no longer be used as our greater purpose, he proposes Man as the replacement - Man in the abstract, representing the potential for all human goodness and creativity. He makes a very good argument, but it rings hollow for me. Nevertheless, it does not negate the chronicle of thought that preceded it, and it is still a benefit to wrestle with the ideas that came forth from the author's soul-searching.

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 shadows of impending death

The Man in the Iron Mask - Alexandre Dumas

The Man in the Iron Mask (Dumas, 1847-1850)

Dumas brings his epic saga of the end of chivalry to a dramatic close, with moments of intense grandeur and nobility intermingled with poignant and bittersweet leave-takings. Aramis's plot, hinted at since the early pages of The Vicomte of Bragelonne, finally comes to fruition, blazing gloriously to light but leaving charred wreckage in its wake. Not even the bravery and friendship of the four musketeers can withstand this final challenge.

Considering that The Three Musketeers, in which we first meet these characters in the glory of youth and strength, was published in 1844, a mere three years before this final novel was begun, Dumas does an exceptional job of aging his characters and exchanging the promise of future days for the reflective sorrow of time gone by. Old age and the inevitability of death are odd topics for an adventure novel, yet this focus produces several scenes of deep emotion that heighten the artistry of what would otherwise be "just another adventure book".  Though none of Dumas' books (at least that I've read) are truly vulnerable to that claim; rather, they reveal the artistry of a born storyteller and point toward greater truths.

Here I am waxing eloquent, when this book offers much more in its generous breadth.  Humor, prison, defiance, war, escape, chases, and political usurpation make the conclusion of The Vicomte of Bragelonne a roller-coaster of classic storytelling. Even if it's unclear why we had to focus so heavily on Louis XIV and Louise de la Valliere in the middle section, and even though many subplots turn out to be superfluous to the final outcome of the book, the final Musketeers novel stands as an impressive epic of intrigue, suspense, and friendship. While it is not a perfectly constructed plot like The Count of Monte Cristo, it offers its own charms as it chronicles the end of an era and the last grand actions of yesterday's heros.

Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 plots blazing gloriously to light

Louise de la Valliere - Alexandre Dumas

Louise de la Valliere (Dumas, 1847-1850)

Volume II of The Vicomte de Bragelonne, or Ten Years After, Louise de la Valliere focuses largely on the intrigues and romances of the pleasure-seeking court of King Louis XIV, sorely neglecting D'Artagnan, Porthos, Athos, and Aramis.  Indeed, The Many Loves of Louis XIV might be a better title for this section. Early on, after the rushing adventures and plot lines from the end of Volume I suddenly gave way to chapters detailing various jealousies and family quarrels in the royal residence, I almost lost heart. A fairly large section can perhaps be accused with that awful genre label, "soap opera", as many different men (including Louis himself) pursue Henrietta, new bride of Louis's younger brother Philip. But this is still Dumas, so despite the sudden and overwhelming focus on royal love affairs, and despite a preponderance of pages-length descriptive paragraphs, the reading is still interesting, and he still manages to generate some excitement with the fairly sedate story material (which is, for the most part, lifted straight from France's history).

If the musketeers and Raoul are largely absent, they do get some quite excellent scenes, including a hilarious vignette where Porthos dines with the king, a tense encounter between D'Artagnan and Aramis, and a meeting with a mysterious prisoner locked in the Bastille. And when the court storyline finally focuses on the romance between the king and Louise, it really does become gripping. Despite my best efforts not to be sucked in by the love story, I was gasping in surprise and reading on the edge of my seat.  Unlike Volume I, this one ends on a classic cliffhanger after the action is wrought up to a fever pitch. On to Volume III!

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 loves of Louis XIV

The Vicomte de Bragelonne - Alexandre Dumas

The Vicomte de Bragelonne (Dumas, 1847-1850)

It is hard to review this book, because it was not meant to stand alone. It comprises the first volume of the third novel in the Musketeers trilogy, The Vicomte de Bragelonne, or Ten Years After, a sprawling, generous opus of around 2,000 pages and 266 chapters. The last 500 pages are usually published as a standalone novel, The Man in the Iron Mask, which I had read before and thoroughly enjoyed. After reading the last unread Hugo on my shelf, I felt it only natural to acquaint myself with the rest of the Musketeers saga.

It is the year 1660.  At the dawn of the reign of young King Louis XIV, the four friends are scattered. D'Artagnan resigns his post as lieutenant of the musketeers in search of adventure more noble than chaperoning the king's love affairs, but when he goes to seek his three friends, he can find none of them. Athos has already set out alone on the same quest as D'Artagnan - great minds think alike - but Aramis is engaged in a secret and possibly treasonous plot. Having enlisted Porthos to fortify an island belonging to M. Fouquet, the king's powerful minister of finance, he finds he has to keep the loyal D'Artagnan at a distance. But for Raoul de Bragellone, son of Athos, all thoughts of adventure, intrigue, or advancement prostrate themselves before Louise de la Valliere, the girl he loves and wants to marry, in spite of his father's disapproval.

Dumas balances several excellent plot lines with his epic style and refreshing sense of humor. The adventures are gripping, the twists and turns enthralling, and the portraits of characters, both fictional and historical, are rendered with dashing flair and instant relatability. Though easily the most rambling of his novels that I've read, and perhaps the most readily identifiable as a serial publication, the rambles are perfectly entertaining, and a larger picture and theme emerge. We see the heros of yesterday growing obsolete with few good outlets for their seasoned power, while the next generation falls prey to pragmatic modernization at the expense of chivalry. There is plenty to enjoy in this first section, although it does end abruptly at nothing resembling a stopping place.  Be sure to have the second volume ready at hand.

Arbitrary rating:  4.5 out of 5 noble adventures