Magma’s output is punk Kryptonite - prog largesse at its most self-severe, total with Hubbardian mythology, invented languages, and sufficient choirs to fill Carmarthenshire two times around. That just one minute is plenty of to realise that krautrock is not about collectors and catalogues and worthiness: as a great deal as anything at all it is about the primacy of the current moment and the cavorting foolishness of funk.