The Centipede Manifesto
Pt. 1: Towards a Free Revolutionary Music (Contra Erik Satie)

        It is the goal of all serious music to be listened to. This goal — seemingly obvious but extremely difficult to realise — lies at the heart of the Centipede project. The social function of music, as we see it in the present and as we have observed over the course of our lives, is cosmetic. Hearing music is, for the present era, a subliminal activity: music is best when it sounds like music; music is best when it does not offend; music is best when it does not demand active participation (listening); music — like makeup — is best when you don't notice it's on.

        To arrive at an emancipatory music, we must first examine the aesthetic category of music. Of the temporal arts, music differs from literature and theatre in that it rarely demands its audience's active participation. Music — and I am in no way invoking the idea that all sounds are music — is ubiquitous but it is rarely presented to us on its own. We hear music when we shop; we hear music when we are being advertised to; we hear music when someone's phone rings; we hear music when we wait in line; we hear music when we watch a play, when we watch a film, when we watch television. Furthermore, music differs epistemologically from the other arts. With all due respect to the discourse on the work/text antinomy, one cannot passively read a book. One can, not reading it, look at a book, as one can, lacking consciousness, be in the presence of a play, but merely looking at a book and being in the presence of a play does not qualify one as an audience.

        It becomes clear, then, that every musical composition must distinguish itself from the undifferentiated mass of music that we ignore, that we must ignore in order to live our lives. This is not a call for listeners; this is a call for music that demands a listener, music that cannot be ignored by those who wish not to listen to it. Such a music calls into question the aesthetic category of music. This music approaches the boundary between what is music and what is non-musical sound and, approaching it, simultaneously enforces, moves, and erases this boundary, never traversing it as if it had never been there. One cannot ignore such a music. One can ignore music and one can ignore non-musical sound but, before we are able to ignore, an act of relegation, subconscious though it may be, must take place. Though we ignore music, we still privilege it as an aesthetic category. Were this not the case, we would not be able to differentiate music from mere sound. The kind of music we are calling for, then, approaching the boundary between music and non-music as it does, offends our sensibilities in its affront to our aural hierarchy.

        That we arrive at a music that, if one wishes not to listen to it, cannot be ignored and must instead be avoided is crucial. The choice to hear and to not hear requires a consciousness of aesthetic categories; the reflection sustained by this consciousness frees music from ideology. Music that is heard but not listened to, whose audience is unaware that it is even present, enters the space of ideology. Centipede finds this unacceptable.