Does anyone ever think about how weird is the relationship between an oboist and their reed? We spend hours and invest care and craft and often emotional turmoil into creating it, and then there is this oddly intimate relationship during the playing-stage (the connection between brain and face and reed is more or less unique, and you are making theoretically beautiful sounds with what is basically a vegetable), and then after a few days (or weeks if you’re lucky) it dies. And we do all kinds of crazy things to keep them alive – Jim advocates the boiling-water-baptism, Dick the vice-grip-CPR, but it’s all going to be futile after such a short while! And the words we use to talk about them – heart, back, spine – no wonder oboists are so intense.**

Anyway, the inevitability in my life as a pop musician (hopefully not as the other kind, though) is that I will be an Owen Pallett ripoff. So I thought: better get down to it! Here is a (hopefully entertaining) self-referential song from the perspective of an oboe reed for which the music is oboe loops. Um…it’s a demo. I’m not a singer. Excuses excuses excuses.

Man Is but a Reed

**Intense like CAMPING

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