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https://mellem.lnk.to/serenade

You can now pay for Copenhagen Music Academy courses in instalments.

This makes it possible to join a course without paying the full amount upfront – so timing, momentum, and curiosity don’t have to wait.

Nothing else changes.

Same courses. Same depth. Same focus on listening, decision-making, and real craft in music production.

Send us a message and we’ll make a plan that fits you.

CMA Courses 2026
BASIC (2 DAYS) #9 – 17 Jan – 18 Jan 2026 (DKK 2,850 / €380)
BASIC (2 DAYS) #10 – 28 Feb – 1 Mar 2026 (DKK 2,850 / €380)
BASIC (2 DAYS) #11 – 21 Mar – 22 Mar 2026 (DKK 2,850 / €380)
ADVANCED (5 DAYS) #7 – 21 Feb – 25 Feb 2026 (DKK 4,900 / €656)
ADVANCED (5 DAYS) #8 – 25 Apr – 29 Apr 2026 (DKK 4,900 / €656)

– Boe

“When I Become Confused” feels like more than just a song and a video. It’s part of my story, my wife’s story and many other folks who have been touched in some way by Alzheimer’s/Dementia. Released in partnership with the Alzheimer's Society of Peel, it is both a musical offering and a call to awareness, reminding us of the power of music to reach beyond memory into shared human connection. 

Check out the song and animated and live performance videos here.

STORY BEHIND THE SONG
I was playing a gig in Aberdeen, Scotland in late 2019 and an old school chum, Rob Keiller, came out to the gig.  Catching up with Rob on the break, he happened to mention a poem he had written, inspired by his mother Ada who had died at the age of 64 from Alzheimer’s. I could relate to this as my wife and I were helping care for her mother during her journey with late stage dementia.  I asked Rob to send me the poem and the next day I opened it up and read through. It was a moving piece with a very powerful title, “When I Become Confused”, as well as other evocative lines. Later that day, I was on a plane back to Canada and literally when the plane was touching down in Toronto, I heard a melody for Rob’s title and sang it into my iPhone along with a few other lines. Over the next few weeks, I caught some more notes in the air and managed to finish the music for the song. But I still had half the lyrics to complete.  The thing about songs though, is that they have their own timing for being born. Six weeks later, I went into hospital and was told I needed open heart surgery.  

It would be another year after my heart repairs that I finally dug back in and was able to finish the song lyric. Having watched my mother-in-law Ruth as the disease progressed, I became aware of things that helped me imagine what it might be like for her. I hope the song will open audiences to a sense of empathy and understanding for someone living with this disease and for those journeying with them.

RECORDING THE SONG - TORONTO - NASHVILLE - NEW YORK
For me, so many decisions along the path and journey of a song happen like instinctive signposts or, put another way, letters to my soul.  It starts with the kernel of a song idea that eventually comes to fruition. But it then moves onto what key it should be in, what tempo, and what production approach you should take. Daniel Lanois describes the recording stage of a song’s journey so beautifully when he says it is the means of securing, “an aural photograph of an emotional or spiritual condition. The secret is being able to spot the magic and never lose sight of what it was about a song that excited you in the first place.”

With “When I Become Confused”, I was blessed to work with producer Justin Abedin, and he and I talked through all the pieces of how to capture the song’s magic. An important part of the puzzle were the players for the recording session and we chose the wonderful team of Davide DiRenzo on drums, Drew Birston on upright bass and Aaron Davis on piano. I’d never worked with Aaron before and Justin sent him my simple acoustic guitar/vocal work tape recording.  When Aaron arrived at the studio, I remember he was surprised to find I wouldn’t be playing guitar on the session, just singing.  This meant Aaron, Davide & Drew could have room to add their combined thoughtful phrasing and musical space, weaving their parts together while I sang the lead vocal. I recall vividly the amazing sense of all these wonderful parts wrapping around me as I strived to tap into the emotion of where the song came from.  All these moments of magic were captured live off the floor with vintage gear and the vintage ears of Jeremy Darby at Canterbury Music in Toronto.  After the session, Justin overlaid his electric guitar parts, creating a delicate soundscape like a textural brain fog over the live tracks that for me, along with the sensitivity of the other musicians, translated the lyrics of the song so beautifully. We sent the tracks to mixing maestro Chad Carlson in Nashville who did a marvellous job bringing out the organic nature of the instruments and vocal. After that, mastering engineer Dan Millice added his sensitive sonic touches to the track at his studio in New York.  I truly believe each of these players, producer and engineers added a piece of their own heart and art to this recording.

You could say it was happenstance or just the music doing its job. It was through performing at an outdoor concert in Toronto that the door opened for me to experience performing music in a healthcare setting. I was heard by the Music Programmer at Sunnybrook Hospital and it was an honour to play for the Veterans and their families in their Warriors Hall, in the gardens, and on some of the wards for the more vulnerable residents for more than 10 years. 
 
In those spaces, up close, I watched the power of music do its work, with all of us, moving our bodies and our hearts. There’s a kind of “musicking” that has a circular, reciprocal effect where people can somehow manage to meet in the space between, song by song and note by note. I don’t think you can do as many of these types of gigs as I have over the years without your heart naturally being wedged open further to a place of deeper empathy. 
 
After one of my performances at Sunnybrook Hospital, I was speaking with a staff member who said, ‘if only I could have put a little bit of my feet in her shoes.’ That’s all it took for my songwriting wheels to start turning and a melody was mapped out during my drive home. At the time, my wife Mary Ellen was a full-time carer for her Mom at home who was dealing with dementia. Fuelled by the carer’s need for empathy - whether in a hospital setting or at home - I set out to write the song, “Feet In Your Shoes” to capture the emotion of a carer’s need for help but not being bold enough to ask. The song won top honours at the 2022 Mississauga Summer Song Contest and is an infectious upbeat production with a horn section, stirring electric guitar and Wurlitzer piano - where the lyrics move your heart while the groove moves your body. Check out the track and video here that reminds us we are all living in a world that needs more empathy