Excerpt from the Naï-Kobra Manifesto:
§ 4.2 "On the Sonic Maze and the Puppeteer Within"
“Though we alchemize within a sonic free space a figment of imagination reflects a disruption. Leading through the passage of a dogmatic, sonic labyrinth of arcane narratives. We organized the construction of this maze ourselves. A Dionysian air, wet with sound, swept passed back towards the fresh breath of untroubled escape behind, while still grabbing hold of our ankles bare. Once, we evaded in fear the illywhacker-puppeteer tripping the light fantastic atop the high hedges. Now, though, we dig deep in order to thrive as stringborn and seek to adapt our entire sensory system to high-entropy environments of disrupted sonic excess.
Clandestine prospectors, as we are, we mine in mud and bring to shine sound artefacts. We transgress found borders of knowledge and here organize sonic spaces by reaching out, not to the ears, but to the undivided, though not yet unified, sensing body. An alien body engulfed in the absence of light. We unfold stories deprived of self and substance!
- Here, artist and performer are utterly lost, their significance, virtuoso intensions, their very presence, influence, and supposed importance are banjaxed and broken. Objectivity is surgically extracted and discarded as byproduct of sonic emergence. Through deterministic loss of intension a blind compulsion of the auditive takes form. A ravenous desire for the consumption and sacrifice of itself as a pervers means to become something more, something greater; to become something purely excessive, of pure meaningful being; an abomination with innate knowledge of the sacrificial value - of the transgression - and its necessary alignment with the concept of loss - of taboo.
This venal sonic fiend is born with a natural understanding of the symbiotic relationship between the concepts of loss and value. It heralds the immensely transformative power; the potential energy stored within as unbalanced tension between transgression and taboo.
- Here, these unstable and shunned sonic constructs are
encouraged to sacrifice and consume themselves. Necessarily, any association to
the
knowable must be extruded from their disposition
and all categorization and perceptible attributes renounced, as a prerequisite to step diminished and malleable into the final mould; a refinement, a completion and a galvanization of a synthesized, sonically constructed, unified existence. An immaterial awakening, a singularity in time, embodied in space by the effectuation of a deep force of passion and a fierce emotional integrity with the energy necessary to disrupt the constituent fabrics of the subject individual.
We excavate, aggregate, then shift the listening position! We refine and finalize through torture, sacrifice, and loss of sound; an odious, grotesque, and unnaturally orgiastic transmutation of sonic artefacts. The artefacts are spun into grey and black silky threads that weave together and occupy space as a highly expressive
envelope. The expression 'envelope', might seem pale, but think of the hyper-individualistic qualities of this artefact. It is a construction of sound able to produce, contain, and express an infinite number of sonic spaces and narratives. The sonic envelope is nothing but form, loss, and excess. The imagined destinations of the mind - emotional and sensory experiences - substance, meaning, value, and nothingness - the antagonist - the sense of time, space, and causality - memories - idiosyncratic cognitive systems of categorization, all this, and an infinity of other influences, form
The Narrative. A story only for the subject individual, not to be held as
The Truth, but held as forever
true nonetheless. We build on sacrifice for that purpose. We seek these hyper-individualistic universes, not to understand them, no - for that would be truly invading - we seek to induce them!
We extrude and deconstruct raw sonic material into artefacts. We alchemists of sound thriving within a maze of dogmata, we welcome our illywhacker master, the trickster, the one who tought the art of nothingness.
What can we as prospectors know about the limitations of this sonic mycelium? - perhaps more pressing: what do we know of its relation to its fruits?
- We as a collective, seek to hide beneath artefacts of sound and let the inherent qualities of the unpredictable grow as a definitive master of auditory spaces:
as a sonic storyteller in itself.“