If you had told me a few years ago that I’d be playing the piccolo in a university brass band, I would have laughed, coughed, and probably asked, “Wait, what’s a piccolo?”

But life is funny like that.

I’m part of the University Brass Band, Rhythmic Energy. And it’s been two years since I started playing the piccolo—though, honestly, this whole journey began with me not even knowing how to hold a flute.

The Audition: How It All Began

So here’s the thing: I only started playing the flute after I joined the band. Yes, you read that right. Zero experience. Nada. Before joining, I didn’t know how to play a single note.

During the audition, they asked me the most terrifying question ever:

“Which instrument do you want to play?”

At that time, I didn’t know much about what instruments even existed in a brass band — trumpet, trombone, euphonium, tuba, clarinet, percussion… the list goes on. But the only word I could remember was flute. So, confidently and cluelessly, I said: “Flute.”

They assigned me to the flute section and the crash course started: how to hold it, how to breathe properly, and how not to faint after playing three notes. The basics that nobody warns you about until your lungs are burning.

The Forbidden Fruit: Piccolo

In my first year I began to hear whispers about the piccolo — the tiny, mischievous cousin of the flute that everyone said was difficult. My section leader even had one, but hardly dared to play it because it was “too tough.” Naturally, my reaction was, “Next year, I want to play that.”

Fate intervened. In my second year, my teacher deemed me not quite eligible for piccolo duties and instead made me the flute section leader. With leadership came responsibilities — teaching juniors, running rehearsals — and the piccolo had to wait.

Finally, the Piccolo

Then, in my third year, someone casually handed me the piccolo and said, “You play this now.” That was the start. Two years in, and it’s been a rollercoaster: sometimes infuriating, sometimes hilarious, often rewarding. The piccolo has a personality — tiny, feisty, and mercurial — and you quickly learn to adapt.

Funny Things Nobody Tells You About the Piccolo

• The Squeaks: The piccolo has an uncanny ability to squeak at the worst possible moments — silent rehearsal, dramatic phrase, you name it.
• The Volume Problem: It’s small but behaves like a natural megaphone. Even soft attempts can cut through the band, earning you “the look”.
• The Teasing: Bandmates will joke relentlessly — “Flute for ants?”, “Don’t lose it in your pocket!” — but it’s all affectionate.
• That One Note: Every player has that stubborn high note that defies all logic and sounds like you’ve stepped on a balloon.

Why I Love It Anyway

Now, after two years of playing piccolo with Rhythmic Energy, I understand why I wanted it from that very first flute lesson. The piccolo is tiny but mighty — it can pierce through an ensemble like a laser and, in the best moments, add an effortless sparkle to the music.

It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. The piccolo challenged me, made me laugh often, and pushed my musicality in ways the flute never did. It found a way to become part of who I am as a musician.

One lesson I’ve learned:

Sometimes the instrument chooses you — and the journey becomes the point.

If you hear an unexpectedly bright note cutting through rehearsal, that’s probably me and my piccolo — saying hello.