Raging Review

A vie, a mort et après

I cannot live without music, but not just any music: I like harmonics to be shrill and piercing, melodics to be awkward and unsoothing, rhythm to be crass and irregular. No predictable drivel for me! So where do I end up? Well, yesterday in a small concert-hall at the eastern perimeter of Paris, to hear the most amazing group you never heard, filling up my criteria like no other (that's right, not even Zappa attains their level of uncompromising darkness, brutality and harshness, not even King Crimson, not even Foetus or NIN...). I was set on their track by a percussionist/bandleader I worked with thirty years ago, and followed them ever after, in lean times and in their renaissance of late. If you're really interested, open your u-tube and go for Magma - de futura, zombies, slag tanz... I don't know how they guessed, but they played all my favorites. It was their last show for a while; they came out of sabbatical to help this particular venue, which was struck hard by the abolition of a genre of subsidized jobs that does not suit the neo-liberal government of today; they will be back in force next year, to mark their fiftieth year of existence. I can't wait, some good things do last.

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