Magma
Köhntarkösz

I am disappointed to notice that no one has bothered to review (perhaps) the greatest album in all of French music: as you may have guessed from what you read in large print above, I'm talking about "Kohntarkosz" by Magma, probably the most evil and twisted prog group ever.

Speaking of Magma, we can say that as a group they revolve around the figure of the mysterious drummer Christian Vander, an enigmatic figure who, in order to be original, invented a language, complete with grammatical syntax (unlike the language of Sigur Ros, which is simply a distortion of Icelandic grunts). The music is strongly avant-garde (in a progressive sense), and some of Vander's main influences were indeed contemporary composers (such as Bartók and Stockhausen), "free" jazz musicians (Coltrane, for example), and jazz-tinged progressives (Soft Machine and other Canterbury artists, not to be confused with the Canterbury Tales). These influences were mixed with a hefty dose of mental deviation—in an endearing sense, clearly—and gave life to this great masterpiece.

It is an album with a dark charm, one that can make you feel unwell and uncomfortable while listening. The structure of the album is daring: a suite divided into two parts (with breathtaking instrumental crescendos), a song suitable for the black masses of satanic sects, and a free tribute to Coltrane. My personal opinion is that of a group with a great idea in mind but remains misunderstood by all those who do not know Kobaïan (the language invented by Vander, used to tell the story of the inhabitants of the planet Kobaia—if he's not a genius for having invented a language from scratch...).

As for the originality of the album, it is nothing short of miraculous, you hear so little of this kind of stuff around. Furthermore, considering the temporal (1970s) and locational (France, which from what I've seen doesn't have anything so malevolent to lead a man to write such an album) context, as far as I'm concerned, this album is crowned with the scepter of Progressive Hell, taking the place of Lucifer himself, where only they and a few others (Atomic Rooster only reached the Acheron, Black Widow stopped in the fourth zone of the ninth circle, Bram Stoker didn't even have time to be guided to the Ante-Inferno) have dared to venture.

In conclusion, if you believe that evil is black metal, buy this album, and you will tell all those Norwegian screeching monkeys to go screw themselves. It can't help but deserve the highest rating.