At the beginning of their career, French metal band Gojira were pumping out one album after another. Their first three albums, Terra Incognita, The Link, and From Mars to Sirius, came out within four years of each other. It’s only with The Way of All Flesh that the band began taking a little longer in between releases. Between that album and L’Enfant Sauvage, fans waited four years and such was the case again with Magma, the band’s latest album.

Featuring 10 tracks of brand new material, this album has greater weight and impact than any before, mainly because of the passing of Patricia Rosa, the mother of Joe and Mario Duplantier (guitarist/vocalist and drummer, respectively) during the recording process. Mario told Rolling Stone, “We recycle our sadness and depression in the music.” Joe added, “We had a bitter taste about the album when everything was going on. We’d say, ‘Fuck, what about the album? Fuck.’ It took us months,” speaking about the time when they returned home after their mother’s death.

They’re not wrong. Magma is an album that feels like a great amount of emotion and pain was poured into it.

Opening with “The Shooting Star”, we’re given a Gojira that embraces clean vocals which hover over a pulsating and driving beat. It’s a plodding, almost military march slab of barely restrained anger. In effect, it’s a warning of what’s to come, which is “Silvera”. Bursting with ferocious guitars and raging growled vocals, there’s an almost Cthulu-esque cry in the back that elevates this song to near epic levels. Joe cries out, “When you change yourself, you change the world” with almost palpable desperation, pleading with every listener to, “Quit moaning about fate and change“.

“The Cell” bursts forth with frenetic energy before abruptly slamming into deliberate and methodically focused anger. “Yellow Stone” gives the album an interlude in the middle that doesn’t do anything for me. It almost feels like some random jam the band did that was recorded and they said, “Eh, fuck it. Put it in.”

“Magma”, the title track of the album, is a perfect representation of how the band held onto their past while evolving and maturing. It’s adventurous, it’s emotional, it’s intense, and it’s undeniably all the things that make Gojira so fascinating. “Pray” has an almost mystical quality about it, the melodies and instruments soaring and swirling amongst each other before coalescing into a sharp attack.

“Only Pain” is perfect for those who want more of what L’Enfant Sauvage offered while the very next track “Low Lands” proves that Gojira isn’t a one-trick pony. I know I used the word “epic” before but that word certainly applies here, as this song feels like it builds to something grand, something majestic. When that moment comes, it still takes the listener by surprise because it goes in unexpected directions. It ends with a lovely acoustic interlude that is hauntingly punctuated by a thickly reverbed howl.

The album ends with “Liberation”, a track that features no distortion whatsoever, nor any vocals. It sounds like something one would hear around a campfire in Northern Africa, tribal percussion softly backing a calming melody. It’s a chance to unwind, to release all the emotion that was called forth throughout the album.

Magma may very well be the most apt name the band could’ve chosen for this album. It’s beautiful yet violent. It can move slowly or erupt chaotically. It’s hypnotizing and nearly impossible to break your gaze away from. Such is the nature of this album, which takes listeners on a journey but doesn’t hold their hand. You will be surprised. You will be hurt. But there is no reward without risk, and Gojira have taken plenty here.

The Final Word: It’s not a flawless album but Gojira clearly expanded themselves, grew as musicians, and took a lot of chances with Magma. The end result is a release that features some of their career’s strongest material.