I gave it three minutes, fifteen seconds. No, I junked tapes like that the day after having made 'em, with buddies, back in those heady 'squat' days (or was it weeks, or years..? I can't remember ...). It could just as well have been (and wouldn't surprise me to learn...) a sea-lion on guitar, the bassist is plugging away looking for that all-elusive super-lydocrean scale he'd heard on a John Peel show, and the drummer is stoically trying to pile his kit into a telephone booth, but they keep rolling out. Maybe it all comes together after an hour or so; if the tapes we made at the time are any guide, I'd say that's unlikely.
No, I have no qualms whatever with this stuff being listened to, admired, imitated, praised, glorified or paid for by others; that's their prerogative, and I have no judgement to pass (even if I was qualified to do so, which I am definitely not...). As long as I'm not obliged to suffer such stuff, it's no skin off my nose, and good luck to 'em. I have a similar approach to other stuff, such as Spice Girls, or Tiny Tim, and more yet, so it's not an exclusive ignorance of the genre, it's just that I don't want to listen to it any longer than I have to. In daze of yore, I assisted at concerts by Soft Machine, Matching Mole and more, and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Maybe, I'm getting old, like your Dad..? Hmm; we'd perhaps get along just fine...
Magma, on the other hand, are serious heroes of mine, and are as impressive today as they were in the '70s. That is Good Stuff, in my opinion. Not to everyone's taste, of course, but I still attend their events if within travelling distance, and always leave elated.