It might seem tongue-in-cheek on the surface, but the fact that the title of Eldritch Priest's sprawling debut vinyl release, Omphaloskepsis, is the Greek translation for “navel-gazing” unlocks something essential to the Vancouver- based composer and writer's singular outlook.

Perhaps even more telling is the title of Priest's 2013 book Boring Formless Nonsense: Experimental Music and the Aesthetics of Failure (Bloomsbury), whose 300-odd pages read as though you've been dosed with potent hallucinogens. Throughout the text Priest addresses—celebrates, even—the titular elements via various musical examples, including that of his peers. What's so bewildering it is that his descriptions of how boredom, formlessness, and nonsense manifest are laced with the very tactics he's depicting. Passages tie themselves in knots, footnotes engulf the “primary text,” he even deliberately misleads the reader.

The restless stasis of Omphaloskepsis could be regarded as an extension of this book's wayward spirit. Things unfold fairly slowly and consistently but it'd be a stretch to describe it as properly contemplative. Like attempting to meditate with a high fever, any sense of tranquility is constantly derailed as one succumbs to queasy agitation. The piece's foundation is a seemingly endless guitar melody; an organic meander that neither seems to repeat or offer any concessions to narrative directionality. Priest unfurls this rambling cantus firmus in a rich, clean, jazz-like tone, but as it's played, it's repeatedly tangled with snarls of dense digital processing and shadowed by a stumbling virtual “band.” These strident interjections blatantly contrast with the guitar, yet they aren't so violent as to offer more than a faint itch of distraction. As such, the distinctive amorphousness that this piece inhabits for its 54-minute duration leaves a strong impression, but also feels utterly intangible.

In addition to his recorded forays, Priest's disorienting music has also been performed by top-tier interpreters such as the Arditti Quartet, Quatuor Bozzini, Philip Thomas, Anton Lukoszevieze, and Continuum. While living in Toronto he co-founded the collective neither/nor with John Mark Sherlock, which featured a cross section of musician-composers playing each other's work including Eric Chenaux, Doug Tielli, Eric KM Clark, Heather Roche, and Rob Clutton. “Though the name refers specifically to a loosely knit group of composers and performers,” remark's the collective's website“neither/nor is also a sensibility that refuses art’s messianic pretensions and the gaping maw of commercialized society, opting instead for art’s right to be esoteric.” In 2021, when Eric Chenaux and Martin Arnold relaunched their neither/nor-adjacent Rat-drifting imprint, an album by Priest, Many Traceries, was among the first to be released. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Priest was a student at the University of Victoria, a school that's come to be known for fostering such staunch individualists as Arnold, Linda Catlin Smith, Allison Cameron, and Anna Höstman.

As a scholar, Priest writes from a 'pataphysical perspective and deals with topics such as sonic culture, experimental aesthetics and the philosophy of experience. Priest brings these interests to his job as Associate Professor in the School for the Contemporary Arts at Simon Fraser University, interests that also inform his work as a member the experimental theory group The Occulture. In addition to Omphaloskepsis, his new book, Earworm and Event: Music, Daydreams and Other Imaginary Refrains, is also due out in March 2022 from Duke University Press.

This work is supported in part by funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council, and Simon Fraser University’s University Publication Fund.