In an attempt to create an original piece of music from scratch, a unanimous contribution of written ideas, thoughts and sentiments was inscribed on a moodboard-esque list, with the intention that a musical narrative would take shape. In this essay, I will explore the creative process that “Existential Breakfast” undertook and why it ultimately remained an unfinished project.
From the outset, the song’s ideas comprised a vast amalgamation of randomly proposed words, names, abstract concepts, and bizarre ideas to chisel a story out of our collective ramblings. Having recorded these ideas on a giant A3 sheet of paper, we intended to sift out particular words and sentiments to serve a cohesive storyline under the given title ‘Existential Breakfast.’ Having recorded this list of branching ideas containing possible connections and directions, we essentially threw paint at the wall to see what stuck. We then settled on a story of woe and heartbreak; the “food of love and longing” was, to begin with, a key lyric in such a story about how breakfast, along with the comedic notion “whisky on cornflakes” could carry a bleak, depressive quality in its absurdist nature. The Storyboard then gained traction in this path of heartbreak and the following of love that ended dramatically and abruptly, leaving the assumed teller of the story bereft and empty. At least that was my intention with the song, as I felt one weakness of the piece was that the focus of the sessions were too occupied with the instrument playing element; rather than spending at least a few sessions more on refining the intricacy of the lyrics, we essentially abandoned the lyrical segment of the composition and played instrumental music that seemed very far removed from its foundations. Consequently, Will remarked that “I don’t think we had a singer that week” when reflecting on the second week of ‘Existential Breakfast’s creation, and that we had to “ditch the lyrics that we worked on in week one” to “make music that might’ve fit.” The absence of different band members at each session also made it harder to fit the lyrics to a given session; a lack of lyrics combined with missing singers meant we had to explore a more instrumental path without a main melody in mind to play beneath.
However, this could be seen as a positive outlet for creativity amongst the instrumental parts: we got straight to playing a Radiohead-inspired two-chord vamp and ran with assumed melismatic vocables, which allowed us space to be creative. However, there also existed a certain indecision in some aspects of the project (the intriguing concept of fluctuating major I and minor IV tonalities being the exception to this;) it was still difficult to service the project as a communal effort to play something truely sorrowful that might resonate with possible listeners who could have experienced these kinds of feelings; I personally felt that the song started with an eerie textural setting rather than that of despair, which then morphed into what I believe as triumphant in the half-time funk section. Eventually, the song gained this half-time funk-based groove with a spacious bass and drums intro preceding the two-chord vamp. This also encompassed ideas of staggering entries and a decided approach of vocables rather than lyric-heavy writing, before leading onto a shuffle feeling with a more definite groove. Although vastly different from the project’s beginnings, one strength of this endeavour is that we did eventually make a collective decision regarding what we decided to play for this composition. Additionally, I attempted to play a 6/8 triplet afro-cuban groove (as heard in the 27th of February recording) that threw people off and didn’t fit the composition at all. Admittedly, my playing sounded out-of-time with Thabani and didn’t gel with the rest of the band either in the 27th of February recording: I accepted willingly that I was trying to add too many different things in the piece at once, internalising the recurring sentiments referenced by James Squire that “Not every seed must grow” (Rubin, 2023). I found this particularly helpful in the creative process; it helped me better understand not only my particular role in this project’s process, but also in accepting that the initial objective for the composition wasn’t fulfilled, so nurturing the project to find its new conclusion became the most important factor.
In conclusion, ‘Existential Breakfast’ felt like an incomplete project due to its loose ends and deviation from the source: this piece had been pushed from an atmospheric, textural backing to having a structure based around vocables struggling to find their melody, then finally obtaining a more rounded structure with more varied chord changes that incorporated a more conventional funk/rock groove in its stead. Although departing from its original purpose to arrive at a more comprehensible structure, the composition felt as though it had potential gaps that substantial and memorable melodies could fill. Perhaps rendered so by the attendance levels of more melodic players, these melodies could have given this composition its conclusion. The most successful aspect, however, was to me the atmospheric portion of the project; its style, reminiscent of Joni Mitchell’s instruction of her various jazz musicians, felt like the strongest choice we made and the most open section of the piece. Much like Jim Horn’s memory of Joni requesting that her band “make that sound more yellow,” or her commendation of the “notes that sound like dolphins leaping out of the water,” this section felt as if it accommodated an intricate abstract space, open for improvising. (DeMain, 2020). Compared to our current ongoing project, possibly called ‘Revolution’, the particular creative endeavour ‘Existential Breakfast’ had a less decided and finite approach to the array of musical features we wanted to add, remove, or decide on mutually. As of now, our latest project features a far more tangible goal carved out for us down the line, whereby we have made strong collective decisions that remain constants for us to build upon and interpret, and a definable structure with a purpose and end goal. The current addition of a steady halftime rock beat feel, combined with the minor tonality underpinning the lyrics of revolution and the subsequent placement of Ode to Joy in a minor key, has a visible outcome in mind for its execution. Given that our newest composition has more decisions and a direct approach, it feels as though this project (had it been itself also finished) would have had more success in achieving its resolution.
Bibliography
DeMain, B. (2020) How Joni Mitchell made Ladies Of The Canyon and galvanised the singer-songwriter movement. Louder. Available online: https://www.loudersound.com/features/how-joni-mitchell-made-ladies-of-the-canyon-and-galvanised-the-singer-songwriter-movement [Accessed 12/05/2025]
Rubin, R. (2023). The Creative Act: A Way of Being. Penguin.
