The London Diary: Shoreditch, day 77

Day 77

Thursday March 9, 2023

A little add on to the end of the last entry of March 5.

A few years ago, as recounted in our companion piece, Mark’s Diaries, I accidentally became the house bass player with a jazz piano/vocal act which was running a kind of curated open mic called The Dial Up in Swiss Cottage in north London, not far from Kentish Town where I was living at the time. Both Jon, the pianist, and Alex, the vocalist and compere were absolutely wonderful, Jon, especially as he talked me through so many live chart reading experiences which took me right to the edge, and then sometimes quite far out, of my comfort zone. One particular experience had me feel so faint I could almost pass out immediately after the performance. Such was the breath stopping concentration required to read a four page totally original musical manuscript someone once asked us to accompany him with. This particular piece came complete with a bewildering array of navigational symbols. Oh, that was to say that while both were quite wonderful and endlessly welcoming, it was Alex in particular who I came to feel able to consider a friend and he ended up joining me as a vocalist in the jazz group I became part of. Actually, it was thanks to Alex that I was able to even contemplate agreeing to join a jazz band when I was asked. I’d originally called Alex in answer to an advert looking for a house bass player for an open mic night. Perfect, I thought. Whenever I would turn up at open mics with my bass – usually on my way home after rehearsals – someone would ask me to play with them, then I’d simply find myself staying on the stage as a whole succession of people asked if I’d stay and play with them as well. So to actually have the chance to be an open mic house bass player seemed made for me. So I called him up, he was delighted to hear from me and explained they were a piano/vocal duo specialising in jazz and the Great American Songbook and that there was a lot of on the spot chart reading involved. Oh, I said, and quickly explained this was a massive misunderstanding and I metaphorically tried to back out of the room before anyone realised I was there. Alex was having none of it and through gentle yet stubborn persuasiveness got me to agree to come along to their next show and have a go. I did, and kept going for a year or so. I can’t quite remember how long I kept it up, or why I stopped going but it became a big part of my live performing routine.

Tonight I’m back at the Dial Up Club with Alex giving it a go in central London, as I said the other day, practically in the shadow of the Gherkin.

This is in Theatre Deli, a place we are privileged to have found. It’s so hidden away it’s almost private. If you don’t know London that well, I should tell you that the City Square Mile is not very well endowed with bars or venues at all. Or at least, not many that the public can see. I’m sure all those tall buildings have got plenty of secret places going on, as well as others that are open to the public but not that widely known. This place could be filed under that second category. Me and Maja came down here a few days ago to see if we could check it out but we got to the address and all we round were office buildings. When we arrive tonight we see again that it is still just office buildings, except outside the door we were at the other day is now an A board declaring ‘Theatre Deli.’ The door is open and we go inside to find an interior office setting. A large reception area with the usual security/reception type person sitting at a desk. ‘Theatre Deli?’ we say, with that lightly hesitant question mark inflection. He directs us down the hall where we pass through some double doors to come to another large reception area with another receptionist, this time someone to guide us to the place we’re looking for. Which is down another corridor. As we start to walk down that, we can hear piano and the distinctive sounds of Alex’s wonderfully rich jazz/musical theatre voice.

And we’re in and Alex is over to us as soon as he’s finished his soundcheck. Not Jon on piano today though. Now Alex gets to meet Maja for the first time then we all sit down and wait for things to begin. The way this all works is that a special guest gets to open the show, and then play again in the middle and then at the end. Or something like that. Anyway, by the time Alex is all ready to go, the special guest isn’t as it’s some kind of group and one or two of them haven’t made it yet. So Alex asks if we wouldn’t mind starting the show. Not at all. Well, here we are and here we go. About to play for the very first time in public in London. Unfortunately, there really isn’t much of a public here to talk about. Two people who seem to have wandered in here by accident, or more likely from one of the offices upstairs and are just having quiet pints, the small part of the main act – there’s three of them here right now, and Simon, a singer/songwriter. We know each other from previous Dial Ups and we have a lovely hello after so long. Another person I’ve not seen since pre Covid days. There are still quite a lot of those around London for me. When Simon’s spot comes, we are massively impressed, especially Maja who’s seen open mics in a few cities, including Dublin, and Simon, low key as he is, is as good as anyone we’ve seen. Right up there actually. London really does just have a higher bar. Oh, apart from those guys, we of course have Alex and his pianist, and the two bar staff. No matter at all. We’ve long said that no crowd is too small and we launch ourselves into this just like we’ve launched ourselves into everything else, flying all around the bar at random and generally just surprising the hell out of everyone, not least the barstaff when they see us suddenly pop up at the bar and still playing with the stage all the way over there at the other end. We’re also doing our own little open mic thing here which we did for the first time at Sunday Slip in Berlin last summer. That is to not have any plan of what we’re going to play. Instead, we’ve written all our songs on pieces of paper which are all face down on the table, and we invite people to pick them out. In this way we can also avoid the temptation to play I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) at every opportunity. First song picked out from the ten that are there? Yep. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked).

It’s fair to say we make an impression. In fact, much more than we possibly thought. Wait for this.

Performance over and we take our applauses and Maja waits at our table while I go and get us another drink. When I return, I see the guys from the main act have now been joined by the rest of them and are all standing over the table in front of Maja and they’re all asking Maja questions. It’s about now that I discover they’re an improvisational musical theatre group called Ad Libretto – https://adlibretto.com and tonight they are Phil on piano and then Amelia, Tim, Jimmy and Neil.

I’ve heard of improv comedy, but never anything like this. They’ve decided the subject of their performance for tonight will be Maja – and The Diaries. So yes. As soon as they finish their conversation, we all get treated to Maja (And The Diaries): The Musical, complete with a reference to I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) which they’ve just heard for the first time.

Their show about us, well, Maja and a little bit of us, goes on for about twenty minutes and is just the most amazing piece of improv. Just a great show. An actual real musical with acting pieces in between the numbers. Phil on piano gently continues to play in the background, and then one of them will just burst into song, or trickle gently into one, and the others catch on and join in. It’s just magical. And to have this about yourselves, well, Maja and a little bit about ourselves, is just outrageous behaviour altogether. We now have our own London musical. Well, Maja does. We’re just in it a little bit as well. Which has led me to think. Am I now The Diary? You know you have Buddy Holly and The Crickets? And Cliff Richard and The Shadows? Are we now Maja and The Diary? Just a thought. Oh well. If so I guess I have a new name now. And you are? Diary. First name? The.

But really, I’m so happy I thought to film it because it would have been just heartbreaking to have seen something like this just disappear into the ether, only to have been seen by the few of us that were there. Even fewer than who saw us because at least we had Ad Libretto in our audience as well. By default they’ve removed themselves from the audience so it’s, well, it’s five fewer isn’t it. None more few. Is that reference too obscure? Oh, someone must. Just try reading it in Dobly. Oh alright. I’ll stop now. But seriously, what’s stopping it? And what’s behind what’s stopping it? Is my. Question. To you.

Towards the end of the show they decide they want to do a musical number based on one of ours. We invite them to pick a random piece of paper. They do, and they pick out our latest song – Without A Gloria. They do it proud, ending the show with that. Once they’ve taken their bow and ecstatic applause and cheers, Alex invites us to close the evening. How could we refuse? And we just have to play our own version of Without A Gloria now. With that, it’s so cool to play to the couple of the improv guys who didn’t see us before, and it really feels like they watch us with huge interest as they now see the thing about which they’ve just created and starred in as an improvisational musical.

Evening truly over now and everyone disappears and it’s goodbye to Alex and all wonderful new connections with the theatre guys. With that, we settle in at the bar for a little while and get talking to Aneirin and Sophie. Aneirin is one of the main guys who runs the place as a kind of co-operative theatre, and Sophie is all a part of it too, as is the girl who met us on the second reception. That’s what this place is. A bar based around a very committed theatrical community who also use this as a performance space. And all around, as we’ve been seeing tonight, it’s surrounded by large open spaces that were once offices, but are now rehearsal/workshop rooms. Fantastic. Just a fantastic discovery. Again, it seems like we’re in some kind of private London. You really do not just walk past this place and find it. You completely have to know it’s there. Now we do, we get talking to Aneirin about the possibility of us having our own show here. Yep, he’s totally up for it. We aren’t able to arrange anything right now, but he says to definitely get in touch in the next week or so and we’ll nail something down. Brilliant.

First London gig down and a lead to get another one. Oh, and we now have Maja (And The Diaries): The Musical. West End, here we come.

So here’s the musical.