Fire The Scriptwriter

Category: The Tour Diaries

The Tour Diaries

Prologue, day one

Wednesday November 3

Mark:

Living in your own studio in the Irish countryside with no neighbours with your girlfriend who also just happens to be half your act really isn’t a bad way to go about things. And mornings like this really are what it’s all about. We have a nice, lazy start to the day, waking up slow. But once we’re up, we’re all go and it’s on. We hit the studio. Hard.

We’ve had the set pretty much there since last weekend. Now it’s all about running the thing and polishing and sculpting which has been our priority one everyday.

To do that, we also have the warm up thing which often includes a cup of tea and a trip out to our back garden which contains a ruined 18th century factory. And a river. It’s a perfect setting and it truly fits our location as the only house on the most central crossroads in the country. This makes us geographically the most central people in the country.

So out we go to prepare, Maja loudly running her vocal scales to a tutorial video while I join in beside her but not quite so loud. I kinda keep it more talky level. While she’s the singer, my backing vocal duties mean I also have to keep up my end up. So here we are, wandering down to the river at the bottom of our garden on a crisp, semi blue skied mid morning. Flanked by the dramatic three and six storey half destroyed mill buildings and with a light rain gently swirling, the crows look down on us as, steaming mugs in hand, we run through the exercises free of any inhibition. Although the main street of our small town is right across that river, no-one can hear us.

Maja’s progress has been a thing of wonder and I consider this again as her voice soars and soars through the vocal exercises while she runs up the scales, each repetition higher than the one before. By sheer force of will she has crafted herself into a singer. She had a nice voice when we met in February, but nowhere near the power or control she wields now. And here we are. Six months after the Brexit instigated move to Ireland from London, we’ve developed our sound and our set and are ready to hit the stage. For Maja’s first ever gig.

In the past few days we’ve stopped facing each other in rehearsal and have now set ourselves up side by side, as we would be on a stage. So many young bands make the mistake of not doing that, always rehearsing in the round, and then they’re suddenly lost at their first gig as they can’t see or communicate with each other as easily as they’re used to. We also have all our equipment set up as though for a gig, speaker on, mixing desk to our left. My guitar mic’d up as it will be, although hopefully this will be the only gig where we do that; by the time we hit the stage after this first time, we’ll have an electro acoustic. And we’ll be in Berlin. The opening city for our European tour. The mad thing here is that we are following through on intentions we stated after we’d known each other less than four weeks. Back then, on March 17 and in the midst of despair at Brexit threatening to tear us apart, we decided we were going to defeat its consequences by writing songs and touring the world. And here we are, an English guy and a Swedish girl in the dead centre of Ireland with songs written and up to speed, and about to start on the next bit.

Although we know these songs very well by now and have recorded a few of them, there are still a surprising amount of details to get right and internalise, and in some cases even rewrite as we feel there are parts that just don’t quite work. Now it’s time to look at that micro picture. Really dive deep and spend time on the smallest of details. Then emerge and see the bigger picture again, the song complete. One two three go. Again and again, song after song. Got through that, now back to the start and play the whole set without pause, details complete. This includes how we approach my backing vocals and, with Maja’s voice having got stronger by the day, we look at changing a few keys. Each new key change adds that little extra whip and pop. I’d say that since we started recording a few weeks ago, Maja’s voice has undergone the biggest improvement it’s ever been through. It’s the most impressive and quickest growth I’ve ever seen in a musician and it has not happened by accident. This has been sheer will and dedication.

Maja:

Lately it’s been hard actually getting to the singing, and as things tend to do, they are starting to slip away from me. It’s on the agenda to do every day, but even living together with Mark it can be hard to get it started. But as soon as I’m up we’re on it. The rehearsals right now have started to take the shape of going through the setlist focusing on the places I think is the hardest to nail. So we get on it and start to iron out these little places. I’m having a bit of a hard time with some of the melodies, and am still at times singing certain pitches a little bit flat. We also take a look at the setlist. I’ve been finding the song When I’m With You a little bit hard to nail recently, and maybe I’m finding it a little bit uninspiring right now, so even though I know the song, at times when I sing it, it sounds a little bit – off maybe? So that song goes out of the setlist for now. It’s still a great song, we both love it, but it’s a risk right now.
A risk we’re not willing to take. 

When it comes to originals, people usually have very short attention spans. If you go to a pub on a Saturday night, people want to hear covers. They want to sing along, or just continue chatting without putting that much focus into it. With originals, people usually lose interest quite quickly. So we’ve prepared a shortened setlist of five songs, so we can keep their attention. Open up with: Smile Is Going Round, I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), Freefall, All That I Can Be and lastly All Kinds Of Wonderful. It’s a short set, maybe 20-25 minutes, that is almost guaranteed to keep the crowd’s attention. No really slow songs, everything is powerful, fast paced and poppy. Just fun. And then we’re leaving a couple of songs that we could get to if the feeling is right. We rehearse on and off until I say no, I can’t continue anymore. It’s around five and my voice is breaking. After dinner I go to rest, and spend a little too long lying in bed mindlessly watching silly videos. Mark soon comes next to me and soon I can hear him start to snore. As it approaches nine, I toss the covers off me. ‘Wake up, if we’re going to see the guys we need to go now.’

Mark:

The guys are Pat and Colm. We met them on Sunday at the end of our day trip to Tullamore, the biggest town in Offaly. We’d been round a bunch of pubs and were on our last one before catching the last train back to Clara, which left at 9:30. And it was here that Pat just happened to be performing, his friend Colm tagging along for moral support and to sing a song or two. We got talking to Pat before the show, introducing ourselves as musicians and he was very welcoming. So much so that when we rose from our seats half an hour later, and said bye, and that we had to leave for our last train, he said, ‘Stick around and have the craic. I’m going your way. I’ll give you a lift.’ Wonderful. So stick around we did, and got into the fun hanging out with Colm and having a good dance around the place and taking in the general feelgood vibes created by one man and his guitar.

On the way home, they told us they were playing a little informal show at The Trap, our local, and where we just happened to be playing on Friday. They’d love to see us there, they say. So, tonight, there is where we’re going to go.

Maja:

Mark is immediately up, properly putting on a shirt. I reluctantly brush my hair. I’m tired, I’m going to go there, but I won’t even bother changing clothes. I’m wearing my Gorillaz sweatshirt, the one that only the band got from Damon Albarn during their tour a couple of years ago, the Humanz tour. Under it just a worn down T-shirt. Well, I’m ready to go. We get there and just inside Pat and Colm and a couple of others are sitting there next to the entrance drinking pints of Guinness. We say hello, and go get ourselves a beer each then go sit down at the table next to them, in the corner of the pub. We’re a bit too far away to participate in the discussions but we’re still closeby and the football is on. Me and Mark start to talk details about the tour we’re planning. We’ve recently started to entertain the concept of really penetrating a couple of cities before continuing along. Like, actually be in Berlin for a month or so, to build a reputation, and then start over in another city, maybe Amsterdam or Prague. Do that on repeat until we hopefully penetrate something bigger and get ourselves on to a real, organised tour or something else that could be amazing to do.

Mark seems a little bit bored with me, and wants to chat with others as well since we’re out. But I really don’t feel that way. Not tonight. I just want to see the music show, watch the football and drink one or maybe two beers. Without talking to anyone. So I sit back and let Mark go and talk with someone. It’s nice not having to be social all the time. I’m great at being social, but I kind of need to be in the mood for it. I just want to be with Mark and watch what’s going on. Colm asks why Mark hasn’t brought his guitar, but it’s not really what I want to spend my night doing. Sitting alone just watching Mark play. That feels a bit… unfriendly even. 

Mark:

I actually thought it would be a bit presumptuous to just bring an instrument. Especially if I had chosen to bring anything it would have been my bass and amp which would have had everyone wondering what the hell I planned to do with that at a table performance. Of course my volume would have been totally appropriate and fine, but I think just walking in with a 300 watt amp would have sent the wrong message. Once I’ve had the invitation, I do consider going home to get it and even say I could do so but I sense a very subtle reaction from Maja and ask, away from the guys, how she feels. Totally reasonably, she says, ‘I don’t want to be sitting here on my own while you go off and play with people. That’s not really my idea of a good night out.’ Yeah. Fair enough.

Maja:

So Mark decides to stay with me instead. As the football ends the musicians go to the stage area and sit around the table bringing out their instruments. Today’s musicians consist of Pat and his friends: his uncle Colm on guitar, Michael on Cajon and guitar, and Aine on violin. Pat calls us over and invites us to sit at the table but we feel that would be a bit of an intrusion. We’re fine where we are for now.

They start to sing and we sit close by listening. After a while Mark goes to chat with some people and I enjoy my one beer and entertainment. Completely convinced I’m going to keep a low profile, not talking to anyone. 

Mark:

I’m not bored with Maja. Not at all. But yeah, we’re out and we’re playing in this place in a few days’ time. I want to be sociable. But of course, we can hang out as just the two of us as well. It’s just that we’re also new to this town and there are a few people dotted about here tonight that we’ve got to know a little and who have been very welcoming. I’d like to go and say hi at the very least, and so I do.

Maja:

After a while Mark comes up to me to say that someone wants us to play. What?

No. No way! No, no, no, no, no. That’s not happening. I’m overly clear telling Mark this, then I escape to the ladies room. Upon my return, Mark grabs my shoulders, looks me in the eyes, very seriously, telling me: We should really play something. They’re asking us to.’ ‘No way Mark. We’re playing on Friday. I don’t want to wreck my voice.‘ Once again I try to get back to my seat. I feel a bit, well, not ready to perform. Mark is on me once again, ‘Please, we kind of need to.’ ‘Fine, but ONLY if I get to do Breakthrough. Because my voice isn’t holding up for any of the big songs.’ Mark seems relieved. 

Mark:

It’s the landlord Jimmy who first asks us to play. When I mention it to Maja she firmly says she doesn’t want to. Her voice is weak from everything we’ve done today and she doesn’t want to blow it for Friday. Fair enough. And anyway, I’m not going to begin to try to persuade Maja to do something she doesn’t want to do. I go and tell Jimmy we’re not playing and he’s like, ‘Why not?’ He doesn’t say it, but I can see it written all over face. We’re playing in here Friday. There’s an audience here and musicians with instruments that we can use to help advertise ourselves, both for ourselves and, as far as Jimmy’s concerned, for his bar. I totally get it. I return to Maja and yes, I’m a bit more forceful this time, saying that we’re here Friday, the bar has been kind enough to give us the gig, the least we can do is play at least one song here to help promote it. She gets it too.

Maja:

It is kind of a sit around the table with the musicians there, who seem to be playing mainly for themselves. I feel ridiculously out of place, like I don’t belong there. I combat my feelings and go up to the table where they welcome me. Mark gets to borrow Colm’s guitar, and we both sit down at the table. One, two, three and we’re off. It’s a very low song and I can’t sing it strongly. It’s gentle, which is why I chose it, and it is not directly going to be heard outside of the table. The vocal melody is delicate, intricate, and just can’t be sung in a powerful voice. It needs to be amplified. I can barely hear myself, trying to sing it as strongly as I can without any amplification. After a little while, I can hear the other musicians join in. Some gentle cajon. And some of the most beautiful violin playing I’ve ever heard. It sounds so beautiful, with the little orchestra backing my very delicate voice. The song is enormous, but so delicate that you can’t hear it if you don’t sharpen your ears. As the last note seems to be endlessly dragged across the universe, slowly fading out in the ether, applause fills up the newly made sound space. People shout at us to sing something more powerful and the musicians around us look astonished. Aine told me that she loved the quality of my voice and would love to hear it amplified. I am absolutely delighted. Delighted beyond. Pat seems to have been completely taken by surprise. He tells Mark that he absolutely loves the song and that the chords in the melody are absolutely beautiful. Both me and Mark shine with pride as we say thank you. But the consensus right now seems to be that we have to sing one more song. Oh. What to do? We need something a bit more powerful now. ‘Let’s go with freefall.’ 

Mark directs me this time to direct the bar instead of the musicians and I stand up. No way I can sing Freefall without standing up. As we start I realise how the whole bar is into it. Freefall isn’t a quick song, but it is powerful. It has some really heavy parts in it where I can actually use some volume and punk vibes, but it has a lot of gentleness in it as well if you choose to perform it that way. I think we’re joined by the other musicians in this song, but I am too busy performing to really notice. I am absolutely in the moment. I am living the song, using my whole body to express it. It’s like the whole world disappears as I sing. I get jolted back to reality by the occasional forgotten lyric, but more often than not my brain just keeps imagining some sound to put in the place instead. Avoiding breaking the spell. It’s like I can hear the room get shocked and sucked into the song, when the dynamics of the song changes. Once again the song dies out as I slowly fade out on the last note. The audience is delighted and I hear nothing but applause and praise everywhere I look.

We order ourselves a second beer, sitting down with the musicians, chatting a little bit in between the songs. There’s not that many breaks in it, but they seem to have newfound respect for both of us which is great. After a little while Mark calls me, telling me about this girl that seems to want to talk to me. I leave the musicians table, walk up and lean towards a bar chair. This girl Sevilla comes up to me, totally praising me and being very vocal about it. ‘I love what you did, you sing great. But I want to hear you sing more. I want you to sing more powerfully.’ Sevilla says. I try to defend myself, ‘Well, you see, I’ve sung so much today that I’m about to lose my voice. I can’t sing anymore’. She is having none of my defenses. ‘I really want to hear you belt it out. Do it for us, we want to hear’. Well OK, then. I don’t really think I have a choice in the matter. ‘OK, I’ll sing one more, a powerful one, just for you Sevilla.’ I go find Mark and tell him. ‘We’re going to do Naked.’ He looks surprised but delighted. ‘Tell them, we’re doing one more’, and Mark goes up to the musicians table to see about us doing one more. But just as he is walking up there, there’s this guy that asks them to do a song and he starts singing a traditional Irish trad song. We wait our turn, and I make sure to tell the bar manager that we’ll be doing one more so he won’t miss it. 

Mark:

I would never normally do this. Be invited to play a song with people, do my thing, then go and ask if I could do more. But this is not a normal situation. It’s punters who are doing the demanding and I make this clear to Pat, saying, ‘I’m sorry mate. I don’t really care, but we aren’t being given a choice here. People are demanding we do more. Could we please come back in?’ He laughs and offers me his guitar. Oh, double bonus. Unlike the guitar I used earlier, this one has a strap on it, meaning I’m able to play standing up which is how we usually do it.

Maja:

After we sit down at our seats at the musicians table I can actually see the people at the bar communicating in a way that seems like they’re anticipating our next song. Jerry calls people to him, and I can see the rumor spreading. As the Irishman finishes his eight minutes long song, Mark gets to borrow Pat’s guitar, and I take my place up on a chair, effectively creating a stage for myself. Mark stands close to me, and I turn towards the bar. 

‘Hello everyone, we are The Diaries. This is our pre warmup gig for the warmup gig we have here on Friday. We have one more song to perform to you tonight. This one is dedicated to you, Sevilla. ‘I Like You (Better When You’re Naked)’’. The crowd cheers, and we start. Hard. I sing loud, standing on the chair. Moving with my whole body. Looking at the audience. There’s no doubt only complete confidence. I own this place. You will look at me. You will love hearing this. I absolutely belt out the song. Powerfully. There’s no amplification, but everyone hears every single word I sing. You can feel how they are sucked into the moment, completely taken back by the performance. Everyone looks at me, and I am loving it. As the song cheekily ends with ‘I like you better when you’re naked’, me and Mark go quiet and the room absolutely explodes into applause. ‘Thank you so much’, I call out to the audience feeling like a rockstar. As I step off the chair I tell the audience, ‘Here you have it. That’s for all of you that are calling me shy’. I see how the people around me are shocked. They don’t expect me to say something that extreme, but it feels so nice. I got so tired of them thinking I couldn’t sing with power just because the first songs were slow. It’s a little bit of an in your face moment, which I completely deserve. 

This is awesome. People are loving it. I can see how they’re shocked and everyone’s attitudes have changed. From being all like: ‘What you’re doing is impossible’, to treating me with respect. It’s amazing. The greatest change in attitude I see from the musicians. They don’t seem to know what they just saw. It’s like they can’t process it. 

So. If we weren’t in the musicians group already, we certainly are now. Both of us.

I am a rockstar tonight.

Mark:

This does not happen. Original songs played during cover sets mostly get ignored, just less actually cheered. But even when they do, a reaction like this? No. That really doesn’t happen. To be asked for more? Does not happen at all. To have a third demanded? Actually demanded? Does. Not. Happen. This has been an incredible first experience of our own songs fully out there in public. A great confidence boost for myself and for Maja as she prepares to front a project for the first time in her life. And a confidence boost for our music and performances in general. I think you could say we feel ready for Friday now. 

We’ve heard quite a few pieces of advice recently about what we’re about to do. A guy we met a few weeks ago almost begged us not to try to play our own songs in this town. ‘They’ll throw things at you,’ he said.

Pat and Colm, who we met last week. Full of well meaning and heartfelt advice. Colm almost pleading with us not to do what we were planning to do. ‘I really really advise you to throw some covers in when you play there,’ he said in the car as Pat was giving us a lift home. I was emphatic. ‘No. It will be all originals.’ I think inside his mind he threw his hands in the air and gave up. ‘They’ll learn,’ he may well have been thinking.

Pat had his say in the same conversation. ‘Originals? No-one wants to know. All they want is nursery rhymes for adults. That’s what playing covers is and that’s what they want.’ Here, I threw my own two bob into it, even as I was defiantly resisting, just to let them know that I knew exactly where they were coming from. ‘John Lennon himself could come back from the dead, write a song for you and you could go play it in a bar and no-one would care.’ Pat and Colm nod knowingly. Yes. It’s exactly like that. Their demeanour screams, ‘You see. You get it. So don’t do it.’

After what’s just happened here tonight, no-one’s telling us to do covers anymore. This performance is also the catalyst for me and Maja to look at each other and say, ‘Screw it. Let’s do our full set as planned.’

Day two, the tour diaries prologue

Thursday November 4

Maja:

Yesterday was amazing. But I really went overboard with my voice so I have to rest it as much as possible today, so today I’m as silent as I can possibly be. We even do a silent rehearsal where Mark plays the guitar and we just sing the song in our heads. I am trying to memorise all of the lyrics. I know them somewhat by now, but I am a bit afraid of forgetting them.

Mark:

After this we go through the song ideas we’ve accumulated in our Cubase recording notes section. This takes almost two hours and we uncover and rediscover quite a few things we really quite like, including a song tentatively called Hanging In The Place, and another that could be called Shine, or something.

We talk through a few ideas over dinner, and then generally hang out, and then, as the clock ticks past midnight, Hanging In The Place suddenly starts to take shape as we each add lyrical ideas until we have a pretty cool A Capella song which we’re both singing. I make the crazy suggestion of performing this tomorrow and Maja does the crazy thing of agreeing. So that’s it. In the set it goes.

It’s the most scarcely worded song I’ve ever been involved in writing. Apart from the chorus, it has just 22 words and one of them is sung eight times. I ‘write’ the first verse with just the word Hello. ‘Oh, says Maja. A one letter verse. Cool.’ It is of course a slip, but I take up the challenge and proceed to rise to it, ‘writing’ a third verse of just I. With a little cheating ‘I’m’ to finish. One of the things songwriters often talk of is the challenge of writing a one chord song. I don’t think the one word verse gets nearly enough attention.

Now we have a chat about exactly what we’re going to do when we hit the stage. How much talk, and when? Everything’s up for grabs, but we do make one solid decision which is that we will not talk before the first song. No introductory preamble. People just want you to get on with it. We also decide we won’t talk after it. Just straight into the next one. 

Maja:

Mark wants to go to an event about the history of town today, but I won’t go. 

Mark:

It’s not just a talk about the history of the town. It’s a story of the history of the town from the Goodbody perspective. Ahhh. You see now. No? OK. We live in the house that used to be lived in by the manager of the mill. Or something like that. And our whole back garden is the mill works. The two big ruined buildings, the courtyard where trucks used to come out, complete with those big industrial garden gate doors. And the river at the end of it all. It was all constructed and run by the Goodbody family. We live in it, so tonight’s talk is literally about what’s in our back garden. Yes. I really want to go. But…

Maja:

My voice is too weak and I want to be at home. If we’re out tonight, someone might want us to perform, and I am not ready for that. I need to save myself for tomorrow. Mark reluctantly agrees that this is the best plan and we have a nice night staying in together. 

And as we do, enjoying some celebratory whiskey at two o’clock in the morning, magic strikes us. A new song is born. We call it Bang Bang, and it goes in the set tomorrow.  

Mark:

To be fair, Maja’s all up for me going out on my own. I wouldn’t massively be against that myself, but tonight it just doesn’t quite fit. So yeah. We stay in. And bang bang happens. It’s the name of the song!!

Day three, the tour diaries prologue

Friday November 5

Mark:

My first ever rehearsal in bed. And the firstest band related thing I’ve ever done in my life. It happens as soon as I open my eyes so this record will not be broken. Unless someone uses my hands to play percussion while I’m asleep. Come to think of it, maybe they have. Maja’s already awake and as soon as she sees my eyes open she gently starts to sing our new song, which she will follow up by announcing it is now titled Bang Bang. And of course I join in. This song is an A capella with both of us singing.

And this is how we begin the day of our first gig. With our first and only rehearsal of the day and we’ve not even got up yet.

Maja:

I love that. I am getting so many of your firsts!

Mark:

Yes you most definitely are. And given I’ve never been on an actual international musical tour, I feel you’ll be getting a whole lot more of them. Oh, and people, this is actually me and Maja talking to each other in here right now. She’s in Sweden and I’m home alone in London. And Maja wrote this tonight and we’re putting it out tonight, so this is pretty much real time communication.

Maja:

You’ve been around for so much longer than I have, but I still manage to snatch all these little gems that I call our firsts. And yes, challenge accepted. I will soon play percussion with you when you’re asleep. I’m deciding that no-one has done that yet, so I’m going to! It’s mine!

Mark:

Oh no. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.

As we get into the day, Maja is supremely confident. So much so that I actually find it a little unsettling, nervous that she might have gone a little into the complacent column. I mention none of this because I don’t want to make her nervous, and this confidence is wonderful to see. The first she heard of it was when she read that last sentence you just read. So you are literally on the same page.

Maja:

I can’t not react to that, can I? No. Seriously? Did you really find my behaviour unsettling? 

Mark:

Yes.

Maja:

Wow. That’s news to me. But yeah, I feel absolutely no nervousness towards performing. I can’t even tell you why, I just feel extremely confident. I’m not complacent, I just don’t feel nervous. I feel like I could perform in a stadium without being afraid. 

Mark: 

Working ourselves into the day, we have a look at my to do list for while Maja is away.

I have just the best to do list ever. It looks like this. 

song writing – which Maja absolutely insists goes top of priorities. 

Diary writing

Record guitar tracks for everything we have so that Maja can practice over the next three weeks.

Pitching for:

A support tour with an established act

Agents for The Diaries book(s)

Publishers for the same

Then pitching for this new idea.

The Tour Diary

This is something we believe could be a proposition for publications of various types, both on and offline, and something we think such businesses would pay for. We also think that if we stick to entities which are not in competition with each other, we can write essentially the same piece each week, or whatever is required, and get paid for it from each publication. It’s an idea.

Maja:

I’m quite happy with the list that’s finally starting to take shape. Mark really has enough to do to take the time of a full time job. Nah, he has way much more to do. As for me, I really wish I could be more active in this thing right now, but I am going to Sweden to have surgery. I have a ganglion on my wrist, which is pressing on a nerve and hurts so I’m getting it cut out, and during that time I am going to hang out at my mum’s house. So it’s going to be hard for me to focus on the project, but I’ll do my best during the time I get. I won’t really be able to write that much, since I will be effectively one armed for the majority of the visit. For me, it’s going to be surgery and family and dog time. Quite nice. So I’m going to focus on that, and Mark will be doing a lot from his side. The next time we will meet each other will probably be on our European Tour. Starting, maybe in Berlin? Let’s see what happens.

Somewhere in the afternoon I start to pack. I’m effectively packing for an European tour which I don’t know when I’m getting back from. I mainly have to make sure that all clothing is clothing I feel confident in, and only things that I would like to wear performing or in photographs and videos. And also, a couple of pajamas to sleep in. Clothing, make-up, and who’s a serious musician if you’re not having a significant part of your bag filled with music equipment? Microphones, leads, interface and small bits and pieces. Yeah, I think I’m somewhat set. I’m ready. We’re going on tour, and no, I haven’t played my first gig yet. That’s next now.

Mark:

We’ve spent the past few days mildly avoiding the elephant in the room that Maja’s leaving Ireland the day after the show and we won’t see each other for at least three weeks. But we haven’t been able to help escape the quite mad narrative fact that we will be playing our first gig on Maja’s last full day in Ireland before the tour.

With that, she now starts packing. A little while later I say, ‘I’ve just realised. You’re packing for the European tour.’ ‘Yes, I know,’ she replies. ‘I’ve been very well aware of that. It’s crazy.’ And she has still never played a gig in her life.

That of course is about to change. By the time 8 O’Clock comes round we’ve got our gear together and are ready to leave. The Trap is about five minutes’ walk away from us so we’re in with plenty of time to set up and soundcheck.

While we’re setting up, quite a few curious looks are coming our way. I see this as an excuse to introduce ourselves by going up to people, explaining what’s happening and giving them a card. The first person I walk up to reacts to my pleasantries with, ‘Will you just get on with it and play some music?’ Oh dear. Without losing my friend face, I explain to him that yes, while we still are setting up, we’re not due to start until 9pm anyway. It is now 8:20. I choose not to tell Maja of this mildly hostile exchange. Whenever you’re soundchecking or setting up, it’s not at all unheard of for a drunk person or two to say words along the lines of, ‘Get on with it.’ It really doesn’t make you particularly motivated to entertain them to be fair.

Maja hasn’t flinched. Hasn’t shown the slightest sign of blinking. Carry on. Get through the song and carry on. She was right. She really wasn’t nervous. She truly was ready. She’s come in here tonight like she owns the place and really, if you’re going to do your own songs to any kind of audience really, that’s the attitude you need to have. I’m in charge here and that’s the end of it. She is, and it’s all eyes on Maja.

Maja:

The second song feels easier. I’m totally in it. I have the lyrics on a music stand out of sight of the audience in case I lose my place in the song, but I realise that it’s really hard to change pages. I just take the previous song and toss it on the floor. Good enough. We barely allow any time between the two first songs, and to me A Listing disappears almost as quickly as we started it. As the song ends I realise the number of phones that have appeared. The cheer is deafening. I can’t really think straight, but I am good at working under pressure. Mark says ‘Thank you, thank you so much’, and I realise that I need to speak.

Mark:

When we finish: Mad. Just loud, high pitched. An original band in coverband territory. This isn’t supposed to happen. They’re with us all the way now and Maja is feeling it. It’s on. She’s ready to talk and gives the shortest of speeches to mention that this is our last gig before touring, and to introduce the next song, pausing before the bracket. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), a song we started writing sitting at our kitchen table one night after Maja just came out with those exact words.

Maja:

‘Thank you so much everyone. We are The Diaries. This is our warm up gig for our European tour. Next stop, Berlin.’ Then, slightly out of breath: ‘This next song, we call: I Like You Better When You’re Naked.’ I wish I could show you the stunned looks on the audience’s faces. It’s priceless. I’m taking a sip of water, and use that short moment to really observe the audience. I couldn’t tell you how many people were here when we started, but it is definitely more now. I think the young guys from the back bar are starting to emerge as well. The phones are out. I’m loving it. And this song is really fun to perform. I won’t say fun to sing anymore, it’s fun to perform. A performance to me is so much more. I have the room wrapped around my little finger. 

Mark:

Oh man it’s on. After the adrenaline packed near disaster of Smile, which could have seen us finished before we really started, and the full throated support of A Listing, we feel we have this now. Maja’s body language throughout has shown that she never had a doubt and I think I can claim the same. We have not backed down. Not an inch. Not for a second. And now here we are. Naked just hits. It just hits. By now, the room is full of people pointing their phones at us, recording us. This level of reaction? An originals act in coverband territory? Come on. This does not happen. An original band in original band territory playing their first gig? Even there, this level of reaction does not happen. We thought the first two songs had caused eruptions. They were just warm ups for what follows Naked. Then we drop the ball.

Maja:

I had the room wrapped around my finger. I owned the room. Now it feels like no-one is listening anymore. I mean yeah, it is disappointing to see the audience right now, but I don’t really care. I can’t stop half way through a song, and if anyone is enjoying it, even one, I need to do my absolute best. Well maybe no-one is listening. It feels that way as the audience starts to creep back to their corners and beers. Even if the ball is dropped, even if they are going to boo afterwards, I need to finish this song. Finish it so we can lead into the next one. I close my eyes to try to feel the delicateness of the song a bit more. This song is all about feel. We performed this to a friend once, after showing some of our more upbeat material. You know what he did? He took a piss. He turned his back to us as I was singing and took a piss. Well, seeing that we just left. He is no friend of ours anymore. That’s a line crossed. Or more of a wall broken down with a bulldozer of disrespect. So I know that this song can be a hit or miss, and it is definitely missing today even though it hit two days ago. But dare I say we’re having a little bit of a success anyway. There’s this guy in the back with his hands in the air waving along to the music. As soon as I finish it, I let those last notes slowly die out and there’s applause. People are still cheering at us. ‘Thank you very much. Next song is called Freefall’.

Freefall feels so good to sing. It just does. There’s this delicateness in the beginning that completely matches the slowness of Breakthrough, but it is fierce. The language and melody are just strong. In the beginning it’s delicate but then it just cuts through. ‘These words are cutting far too deep, keep crawling at me in my sleep.’ Just yes. And that crawling is my little rewrite. This song just hits me so hard every time I sing it and I love performing it, which makes it a good choice to have after a possible miss. Because I won’t falter one step. I can totally just sing this song for myself, and that is going to make the audience adore me. I wanna be adored. And just by doing this, I am slowly picking the ball back up again. People are coming back out, and I have the attention once again. 

‘Thank you very much. I always wondered, what can you really be?’ I’m making this up on the spot. ‘What would you be? What if you were a door? Or a song?’ Mark fills in, telling me, ‘I think you’re a song tonight.’ ‘Yeah, I think I’m a song as well. That’s fitting for tonight. This next song is about that. It’s called All That I Can Be.’

Mark:

It’s only afterwards that we think maybe we shouldn’t have done this, but no-one ever made a mistake in hindsight. If we had chosen not to play Breakthrough we might have kicked ourselves for bottling it. But maybe to play a slowie after such a big hit of a fastie, maybe not the best of ideas. But then, maybe we didn’t think Naked would land in such a big way. But here we are. Breakthrough is a kind of a break and I get the feeling a few people are into it and having a nice groove. The bar all starts to get a bit chatty again. OK. That’s fine. I guess they’re happy to have a chance to get back to a little talk for a while. Then Freefall after that. I like the way this song starts slow and builds, fitting domino like into Breakthrough. But it’s another slow section people have to wait through and I can’t help thinking we’re slightly losing them after doing so well to have got them. Freefall is a really weird song for me. It’s a very old one and a song I’ve always put way down my own list. But it’s almost like the runt that finds its own power to beat the whole litter. It’s just kept being there. Way back when, being asked to do a radio slot, my band said Freefall was the one. Putting together a set for the next lineup of that band. Freefall was everyone’s choice. It wasn’t mine. Maja had my whole lifetime of songs to listen to. Freefall made it into the final selection. Then when we came to record, we went for Naked first. Maja’s next call? Yep. You guessed it. It just keeps being there. Whatever this thing is, it’s grown a will and a power well beyond my control. If I’d had my way it would never have been heard again past the first year of its existence. But here it is, almost two decades later still being picked above everything. You can’t do anything but stand aside when that starts happening to your own songs. 

So now it’s here now. It doesn’t get the best of reactions to be fair, but by the end we can see they’re still with us. Onto All That I Can Be and Wide Blue Yonder, a song we have a lot of faith in. Neither really fully hits anywhere near the first three, but Maja hasn’t been put off her stride one bit tonight. She’s a powerhouse tonight, her body language almost raging at the audience even as the songs drip feelgood factor. She’s selling them like they cannot be refused. And they are not being refused. The whoops and cheers of the first three songs haven’t quite happened again and I really think we’ve made a mistake with the order. But then, to not play Breakthrough would have felt like bottling it. We’ll take these lessons. Bottom line is, seven songs in and they’re still onside. I would have taken just that before we started tonight.

Maja:

Neither All That I Can Be nor Wide Blue Yonder got a huge reaction, but they are good songs and they got polite reactions. Which is fine. It feels like the audience is starting to lose focus, and they are getting used to the set we’re having. So it is time for us to stir it up with the biggest risk of tonight. Bang Bang. Written 18 hours ago, and no, I can’t quite recall the melody. Mark puts down his guitar and we start off with the first chorus together, the song starts directly with a chorus. As the chorus is about to end I turn my microphone off, put it down and start to walk around the pub singing the first verse. ‘Hello, hello, hello.’ I watch the people, kinda saying hello to them, letting the people close to me hear my voice as Mark is the only one amplified. I’m just dancing around singing, and so many people are filming me. The next chorus starts and I stay on the floor, preparing for the cool part that comes in verse two. I’m putting my hands into the pistol sign dancing bang bang, but the sound doesn’t come. Mark has completely forgotten how it goes, and he can’t hear me. Oh well, it must look really funny I think as I continue my silly soundless dance, singing bang bang myself. He soon improvises something and I continue to dance and sing ‘Walking through the tables a little unstable bang bang.’ Yeah. That’s it. The melody is slightly wrong, but it is OK. As I join him back for the last verse and chorus it feels like we did it. Now it is just the last song. There’s a loud cheer and we start our song All Kinds Of Wonderful.

Mark:

If we thought we were taking a risk on Bang Bang before we come here, it gets even riskier during Wide Blue Yonder. All I could think of was what was coming next and I just couldn’t remember the rhythm. So I lost focus and made a few mistakes in Wide as well, which we got away with, but they were there. Now we start Bang Bang and I still haven’t quite got it fully in my bones yet. It gets no introduction. Wide finishes and I click my fingers to a beat. We’re doing this A Capella and Maja is going to go out there among the audience, alone. While I stay on the stage, guitarless and alone. And with the second verse just totally gone from my mind.

But there she is. Out there, completely giving it. We really had no idea how this would go, but it’s going and Maja is owning the bar and her new public while I do my own gentle thing back here. We get to the second verse and I still don’t have it. So I just do. Something. Just keep it going. I think it’s horrendous and I will spend the next day still beating myself up about it. Like a goalkeeper who played great in a 4-1 victory but who can’t let go of the one goal that was totally his fault. But, fast forward and I see a recording of it. It really isn’t so bad at all. It even works. We got away with that one. Goal chalked off by VAR review. 4-0.


Even in the moment I feel we’ve got away with something. We were so uncertain about this one that we’d gone for just launching straight into the next song without a break, which is me pounding a down picking beat before Maja comes in when she’s ready. This results in the very strange but satisfying situation of being deep into the intro of a song while the audience is still full on cheering for the last one. Well, I guess that went OK then.

We’re now into our last song. All Kinds Of Wonderful. Another new one from Clara that me and Maja have punched and beaten into shape. One single line had us beat for two days until Maja bounded into the bathroom while I was having a shower to declare that she’d nailed it. She had.

Maja:

Performing All Kinds of Wonderful it’s like I just can’t connect with it. It feels flat, it feels just, boring almost. The attention we’re getting is devastatingly small. It just misses. That’s such a disappointment. The big one we’d saved for last. It feels like it deserves more attention, but yeah I get it. The performance is probably not doing the song any favours. I think it is a bit too poppy maybe. Maybe we can make it feel better in the future, maybe it can be just that the key is wrong, I don’t know. It needs to feel bigger. But I can’t do anything about it right now, but trying my best with what we got. So we do. As we finish, there’s almost no applause. 

‘Thank you very much guys, that was our last song. We are The Diaries.’ I finish off and take a sip of water. People are turning around confused.

Mark:

The reaction to us finishing this is a bit underwhelming. A little disappointing. We chose this as the show closer because we had so much faith in it and now everything feels a little flat. Oh well. We’ve made it this far and that really means a lot. I start to put the guitar down. Then, as I’m putting the guitar down, it begins.

More. More. More. But not just that. It feels like the whole bar is calling for Naked. An original act playing a coverband bar. Getting a rapturous encore, and a unanimous call for one song. Come on. This does not happen.

Maja:

They just started. Almost like a chant. More, more, more. People are shouting, and they want to hear the song Naked. Wow. This feels amazing. ‘Thank you so much everyone, we’ll do one more. This is I Like You Better When You’re Naked!’ And off we go. I’m sweating, my voice is beginning to break but I’m on the home run now. This is the last stretch and I am enjoying it to its fullest. I go all in, with power and all the cheekiness I can muster. I wish the audience was bigger. I am absolutely loving it.

After the cheeky ending where we both shout: ‘I like you better when you’re NAKED,’ the pub just explodes in applause and cheering and whooping. I feel like a rockstar. I am a rockstar. Again there are shouts for more. Demands. But we have to decline. I give Mark a victory kiss and we start to turn the equipment off and then we’re dragged around the different groups of the audience as people praise us. Well, of course there’s that drunk asshole that keeps asking me to get naked just because of that song, but apart from that there’s just a lot of praise. People tell us that we’re going to be huge. We sign autographs, and there’s requests to take selfies with us. After the first round of attention has settled down we order a beer. ‘Well done tonight Mark. We owned this place tonight.’

Well I’ve never done a gig before, but I don’t think this happens to everyone. Maybe it does, what do I know?

Mark:

Oh wow. OK. After all that, after all the uncertainty, with the, we have them, we don’t, we do, we don’t, we’re getting an encore. But not just that. There’s one particular song the whole place wants again. So we do it. And just like that we have them again. Totally. The place goes mad and some are even singing along to the chorus. We finish and again, there are calls for more and more. I look up at Maja. We really don’t have more. At least, not anything that can top that. And anyway, ‘Leave ‘em shouting for more,’ I say. Yep. We agree. We’re done. 

We make our way straight out into the bar. Past well wishing audience members and in among the few people we’ve got to know in here. But I get called away, and Maja does too. People just want to talk to us now.

The guys who call me over are emphatic. They want autographs. And more. They want us to sign stuff to put up over the back of the bar to show we were here. One of the guys even asks for some kind of memorabilia to display in the bar. I have no idea what that would be. I have no idea if the management would want anything and I’m not going to offer. That would just be a bit too forward. They introduce themselves to me as Albert, Steve and Joe. And they nod as Albert says, ‘You guys are going to be huge, and I want people to know you started in Clara.’ What the hell are you supposed to say to that? I just write the messages and sign the autographs. Then I take the beermats I was given over to a totally disbelieving Maja who signs the first autographs of her life. At the end of the first gig of her life. Singing originals.

Maja? What can I say? First ever gig and you’ve got two encore calls and you’re signing autographs. This. Does. Not. Happen. You are a rockstar. And I love you.

Maja:

This was amazing. I am a rockstar now. And so are you. 

I think I stole some more of you firsts tonight.

Day four, the tour diaries prologue

Saturday November 6

Maja:

We got home late last night, and maybe went to bed at around 2 AM, so my body feels destroyed as I open up my eyes at 6 in the morning. Off to a shower and then to the airport with the first train. Time is scarce, so Mark is escorting me to the airport in case I miss my flight. We make some chicken to eat on the train, and as we’re messing around with the packing Mark asks me, ‘We left stuff at the venue last night, right?’ ‘No we didn’t.’ Our PA and the trolley it was on are nowhere to be seen. Oh no. I am already dressed so I go outside to see if it is around here. As I trace our steps back to the bar, I find it. It’s neatly put towards our garden entry so it is as protected from rain as it could be. Thank you so much, whoever put it here. And what a relief as I drag it back home. 

We’re really short on time. We make the first train, where we get to have some tired celebratory chat until we fall asleep leaning against each other. It’s really cosy, and I am going to miss Mark so much it’s untrue. I wish I didn’t have to go, but reality is reality and I need to go. As we reach the airport we need to run to the check-in counter, where I just about made it before they closed. Before I leave him at the security check we look at each other and say, ‘Goodbye rockstar. See you in Berlin.’

Mark:

Yes. Goodbye rockstar. See you in Berlin.

Some of the coolest words I’ve ever said or heard.

Once I’ve made sure Maja is through and in line to board the plane – possibly the quickest I’ve ever seen anyone do that from terminal entry to line by the way – I get the bus back to the station. I have no intention of hanging around Dublin. I’m just going to get back home. Arriving at the station, I see the next train isn’t for another hour and a half. Oh bum. Oh, but there’s a big Premierleague soccer game on today that starts in an hour or so. New plan. I walk back into town and find a place to watch that.

On the way, walking along the River Liffey, I have a chat with Rick who’s curious about how last night went. When I tell him, his reaction is, ‘That is phenomenal.’ I see people playing original songs in bars all the time. No-one cares. It’s ridiculous that you got that reaction.’

Getting back home and me and Maja talk on the phone. We agree that we have a whole new confidence now about what we can do in Berlin and beyond. And a whole new confidence of being able to pitch to tours and agents. You can believe in your songs or your product all you want, but until you take it out to market or put it in front of people, you just don’t know. We went into a very tough arena last night and the thing just hit. You really do have to take something out of that. And we’re taking it all the way to Berlin.

Day five, the tour diaries prologue

Day five

Sunday November 7

Mark:

I want to go and see Pat in Tullamore again. First, just because I want to go and it would be nice to keep up with a new friendly face. But cynical me really does want to take news of what happened on Friday, bearing in mind the insistence we got last week that we were going to get nowhere round here playing originals and no covers. Granted, we still haven’t actually got anywhere. But neither is two encores and autograph requests nowhere. I really really want Pat to know this, and hopefully from there, maybe some word of this to other musicians he knows because he’s someone who seems to know them all.

My first surprise of the night is that the bar staff remember me and Maja from last week and are wonderfully friendly. Wow. That is impressive from them. About ten minutes after I’ve arrived and settled down, Pat shows up. We have an enthusiastic hello and the first thing he asks is how Maja’s getting on. Thanks for that. The second is yes, he asks how the show went last week. He’s delighted when I tell him, but I also think a little surprised. I can’t deny that I do enjoy telling him after last weeks’ insistences but to be fair, like I said at the time, I really think we did get a new found respect from him after he let us sit in on his set in The Trap. 

Maja: 

I arrived safe and sound at my parents place yesterday, and I am going to spend the time there until I meet up with Mark next time. Wherever that is going to be. It’s wonderful to be back home for a little while, and I get to hang out with my family and hopefully some friends as well while I have surgery and recover from it. My surgery appointment is on Thursday, and then they are going to remove the troublesome and painful ganglion I have on my left wrist. For the second time. I hope it’ll disappear for good this time. But who knows. It certainly has been restricting movement in my left hand for about a year now, and I’ve barely been using it since last spring. Which is a real shame, since I have really wanted to play both bass and guitar. I’m only just starting out with guitar, I know some basic chords and rhythms, and it would be a great tool for me to have especially in songwriting, but no. I have a messed up left hand instead. Balls. But what this actually means is that I won’t be distracting myself with what really matters for me and our project right now, which is training myself to be a great singer. I can do that. I am doing that.

But I still grieve the lost mobility of my left hand. I want it back. I hope it’ll come back soon.

I’m not going to go into details on day to day life here in Sweden. We’ll get back to that when the tour is properly starting. Oh boy, am I looking forward to that. 

Days six and seven, the tour diaries prologue

Day six

Monday November 8

Mark:

On the way back from the airport bus to Dublin city centre I have the radio on my headphones. Out of nowhere, the DJ starts talking about a show he saw in London’s West End recently. Pride And Prejudice (Sort Of). Says it’s the funniest thing he’s seen in a long time. 

MJ calls me today. He’s an old friend from Cork and is one of the most positive, talented and hardest working people I’ve ever met. Apart from it just being cool to get in touch with him again, he is someone I would like to know about what we’re doing simply because he’s always all over the place in all kinds of interesting creative projects so you just never know what he’s into or who he’s dealing with. I don’t plan on asking for anything, I just want to give him the heads up and leave that to settle. He totally gets it and is thrilled to hear of everything that’s been going on and basically gets a real kick out of hearing the story, where we are with it and what we’re planning to do next. But after the initial hellos and how the hell are you doings and all that, I ask what he’s been up to. Well, that Mr DJ’s favourite new show, MJ’s only the sound designer for it, developing the songs. There’s kudos. My old mate. All the way to the West End. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person. So yeah, he is quite well positioned. And of course, as you’d imagine, a whole load of other stuff going on as well, including an independent record deal and an actual vinyl album on the way. I’ll give that a little plug when I hear all things are finalised and it’s available.

This is a really wonderful and energetic chat and we cover a lot of ground. But it’s also cool that we don’t get nostalgic at all with talking about old respective glories and adventures – among other things, he was once in my band and I depped with his.

Later on me and Maja are on the phone for four hours. It’s a full on hang out and an evening in itself. Once we’re done, not far off midnight, it’s movie time. Some Kind Of Monster, the docu-movie that almost inadvertently ended up covering the break up of Metallica. Before I put it on, I go and bring the guitar up from the studio. I think it will be good to just have it to hand.

A little way into the movie, maybe inspired by all its studio vibes, I pick the guitar up and start to work on a little idea we called Shine, from the two hour random material listening session we did on Thursday. Snatches of ideas start to come. For the following three hours I alternate between the movie and the song. Write till I feel there’s no idea left, back to the movie. Oh. Idea. Back to the song. And on it goes. I continue with this until I feel totally dry and really can’t do anymore. By the time lights go out, I’m nowhere near the end of the movie. They haven’t mentioned looking for a bass player yet.

Day seven

Tuesday November 9

Mark:

I’m woken sometime around 8:30am with ideas rattling round my head for the break in When I’m With You. This was supposed to be in Friday’s set but a few things with it just weren’t sitting right and the issues centred around the break. By 9 I’m up, pen, paper and guitar, and within a few minutes I have a new break. Oh man I feel ON. Today will be just songwriting. I can really feel it. Shine is well on its way and there are so many other ideas flying about that I just have to get hold of.

Yeah. It worked to have the guitar in here. If I hadn’t, I’m not sure I would have got to my writing session last night. And it was really nice to have it just sitting there this morning to get up and hit it straight away with what was in my head and to have the idea come out like that.

There and then I realise it’s not enough to have the guitar here for whenever I want it. I want the full studio setup. So I go downstairs and, in relays, bring up everything else for recording. It’s not a huge mission to be fair, but it’s so cool to now have it all here at the end of the bed. Mic stand and mic. Music stand. Interface and cable, headphones and external speaker monitor. Along with guitar and stand. And of course the computer. I also bring up the small coffee table to use as a desk and the wooden mini step ladder that also serves as a chair. This would not work if the two of us are here. Bedroom is bedroom and studio is studio. For very good reason. If one of us wants to go do something at 2am, we can, by going downstairs to a whole other room. Completely defeats the purpose to have it all in here. But with me on my own, I’m not disturbing anyone so I can have it here. Also, while the studio does get natural light from the back window out to the back garden, the front window is on the street. Not only do we want privacy in here, but we also don’t want to advertise all the music stuff we have. The basses, the amps, and other bits and pieces. Upstairs, I can have the blinds open and all the natural light you could want. Our studio is simply the coolest room I’ve ever had in any house I’ve ever lived in and I know it’s the same for Maja. And she’s just the tiniest bit sad when she hears later I’ve done this. But I’ve always thought it would be nice to have the window, and for right now, it makes total sense for me to have studio and bedroom as the same space. 

Set up like I am now, I get right to it examining and playing through the ideas I came up with last night. By 11:30 I’ve got a song written and done a one track recording of it on my phone to send to Maja. I love it love it love it and I know Maja will too. I just know she will flip when she hears this.

My plan now is to take a break, and then get onto some of the other ideas. I fully expect to get another song out of today. Maybe even another two. And in between I plan to get a few guitar parts down for Maja of our existing songs. 

Maja’s on the phone. She says nothing about the song. She doesn’t know I’ve sent her anything. But then she says she’s listened to it. This is not very encouraging. Then it gets even less so. ‘What do you think of it?’ she asks. This is not a good sign. It’s like when you finish a gig or a jam and someone says, ‘Did you enjoy that?’ They didn’t like it but don’t want to hurt your feelings so they fill the gap with something they think will be nice right where their opinion should be.

Maja:

Oh, I only got time to listen to it once and the recording was a one track demo so I didn’t really want to give an opinion about it even before listening to it again. I tell Mark ‘The first time was a bit meh, and I remember so vividly how it felt when we were working on the songs in progress a couple of days ago. I want it to feel like that. I’m not even sure what’s wrong, please let me get back to you.’

Mark:

Oh well. I’m honest about it and tell Maja I was really excited about this one, and that I’m crushed. She in turn says she’s heartbroken to hear that but I rush to tell her I’m actually encouraged. It shows the honesty and that she’s not put off by hurting my feelings although it’s clear she’s not enjoying this. ‘Look,’ I say. ‘When people go around in music creation trying not to hurt people’s feelings you end up with St Anger.’ This is the album Metallica ended up making in that documentary I was watching last night. It’s pretty much unanimously agreed that it is a terrible album by a great band. But one of the reasons it happened, in my opinion, is that they decided to be too nice to each other. Brutal honesty disappeared and total mediocrity entered. 

So we get into a chat about what’s wrong with it. Maja thinks I’ve lost the vibe of the original idea. Fair enough. So we talk about how we could get that back without throwing the whole thing out. She says she’s going to have another listen and get back to me with some more specific ideas. One of my thoughts here is that I should have let the song sit for a day or two before sending it, then I might have come to the same conclusions. One thing about songwriting is that so many times you can get so excited about a new song you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever written, and then the next day listen to it and wonder what the hell you were thinking.

About half an hour later Maja calls again. I love it. Forget everything you were planning on doing today and record that for me to work on. We break down what’s just happened in the past half hour. Maja sat down to listen to it to analyse what she didn’t like. As she listened, she thought, ‘Actually, I like that part. I like the way it does that. I like that bit that’s totally different to the rest of it and makes it sound like two songs mashed together. Oh. I like it.’

Maja:

I just love it. Yeah. It is true to what I already knew it was and could be. Now I have something to work on. Brilliant. Well done.

Mark:

Wow. I get on it. But it proves a really hard guitar part to get down. It has to be really energetic but tight and it’s so hard not to speed up, even on the metronome. And I’m not sure if it is a difficult song to remember – not technically, but there are a few dips and changes to go through – or if it’s just so new I’m thinking about too much to be able to play it cleanly. Also, as I’m playing without vocals, it’s so hard to internalise what’s happening and when to hit changes, especially in some of the longer passages. In the end I decide to record a really boring one-two-three guitar part. All just down strumming exactly on each metronome beat while gently singing the song to keep myself in place. The idea then is to record a vocal over this. Not a good vocal, just a perfect in-time vocal with every single syllable exactly where it’s supposed to be. It’s enough of a job just to get those two things done, complete with vocal drop-ins to correct every tiny timing mistake, to make sure the vocal matches the metronome. Because when I come to play a guitar take, any vocals not right on the beat will throw me off. 

Later that night I get to it again, transposing the guitar part to a different key to open up the chords a lot more which also has the effect of moving it up half a step; I’d written it in F# with all barre chords. It’s now in G with all open chords. A whole lot more dynamic. I record a one track version on the phone like this then two more versions in different keys to give Maja options when she listens to it. 

By the time I’ve done all that it’s 1am

Day eight, the tour diaries prologue

Day eight

Wednesday November 10

Mark:

First thing I send Maja the three versions I recorded last night and then hit the studio. Damn it’s hard. All the songs we’ve recorded so far I’ve gone into the studio and just laid the whole guitar part down first time. Or hit a minor bubble, started again and nailed it. I’ve even been recording multiple guitar parts for songs – the same part tracked. Again, in and out. This one, I just can’t get it to work. Either can’t stay on the metronome or forget how long parts are supposed to be, all kinds of stuff. It doesn’t help that. Oh, and having changed the chords from barre to open last night, the first thing I have to do is redo that simple recording concept I did last night before I can even get started.

By the time I’ve got that done and am taking a studio and screen break to get ready to go in again, Maja has other ideas for us. This very prologue thing you’re reading right now. She’s been writing her bits and pieces to get us up to date with last Saturday, meaning she’s now finished her parts covering the gig, and the next day and everything up to all that. And she’s been reconfiguring the website to include The Tour Diaries, and made whole chunks of the thing easier to use and more attractive to look at. It’s all astonishing work, not least because she’s done it while being preoccupied with surgery first thing tomorrow morning, but yes, she also wanted to get it done before then so that I could start contacting people and basically sending us out to the wider world. We’d already agreed that if she hadn’t got to this stage I would have just started running with what we have, but she has done it. So now she needs me to do a final thing myself which is to check her writings for English and to add any reactions I might have to what she’s written into the actual Diary. Once I’ve got onto that, we are done. We are ready.

Maja:

I’m just absolutely delighted I was able to finish writing the tour diary prologue, and update the website to actually feature it in a nice way. I also did a couple of improvements and I think the whole thing is becoming even more user friendly. I have a couple of more ideas of improvements I want to do to optimize usability, but I don’t know if they’d be doable without too much effort. I have a European tour to prepare for so my time is really limited.

Mark:

So what we have now is:

The Tour Diaries prologue up to and including our first gig.

The Diaries. Admittedly a long way behind, but they are there.

The website itself.

A whole bunch of different pitches written for different disciplines which can be easily personalised. 

A back of the book type presentation, which I’ve just decided I’ll give you in here in a minute.

Tracks recorded and up.

And a gig that went pretty well which really helps in the confidence stakes when I’m telling people what we can do.

Which, by definition means we have the set together to do a gig. It’s around half an hour with a few more songs in touching distance of being ready.

On top of that, we have our cards and beermats and a whole lot of merchandising ideas for stuff we can easily put together and transport in bulk in a car.

That back of the book thing

Maja’s life is falling apart. Living in Sweden, her marriage is crumbling along with her fledgling dreams of playing music professionally. 

Mark is an experienced professional musician living in lockdown London. He becomes Maja’s online music tutor and mentor. He has no idea of the turmoil in her life.

With nowhere else to turn, Maja confides in Mark who says, ‘You could come here.’

Exactly one week later they meet for the first time at Heathrow Airport. Before they arrive at Mark’s house they are an item.

Problems

Brexit. Maja can’t stay in England long term, and Mark can’t live in Europe.

Corona. Travel restrictions are in place all over the world, removing any other options.

Solution

Realising they can both live in Ireland, The Diaries move from central London to a tiny town in the Irish countryside where they set up their own studio. This becomes the staging post for songwriting and recording as they prepare for their next step – touring the world.

The Diaries series is a true, inspiring, and living story of love, music, and travel set against impossible odds, all told with an unwavering sense of fun and optimism.

Day nine, the tour diaries prologue

Day nine

Thursday November 11

Maja:

Today is finally time for my dreaded and anticipated hand surgery. I arrive early and get to meet the hand surgeon who explains the procedure; they are planning keyhole surgery, and depending on the findings they might not need to reopen the old incision. They are removing a ganglion, and that ganglion is just under my thumb, next to a big artery. Usually ganglions have a root, and they hope to find that root, remove the root from the inside and then it hopefully won’t reappear again. The ganglion will then disappear in a couple of weeks or months. I feel very positive about this as I go into surgery. I get dressed in the hospital gown, and wait for my turn in the assigned bed in the wakeup area. I get to chat with the nurses, and have a nice chat with the nurse from my last surgery. She remembers me and we chat about what’s been happening with the music and my move to Ireland since last time. It’s nice to be remembered. As the time drags closer it’s my turn and I follow the nurses to the operating theatre. The room is quite big and I don’t really get a proper look around since everything goes so quickly. There’s a small board/bed like object in the middle of the room which I am instructed to lie down on. They cover my body in a couple of blankets because the room is properly cold, and I am shivering. They strap me in with a safety belt on top of the blankets, I guess in case I start to roll over or move or something. On my right arm they check my blood pressure. I also have an IV inserted into that arm. My left arm is getting disinfected and I’m asked to hold it up in the other direction. After it is properly disinfected, it gets covered in a sterile cloth and I lose sight of it. It feels very awkward lying here in the same position as Jesus on the cross. Without any control over my arms. The nurse holds the gas element over my mouth, and I focus on her eyelashes as I breath in the gas. Her eyelashes are slightly lumped together with mascara.

Next thing, I am in another room feeling completely dislocated and my hand is enormous. It takes quite a while before I am able to properly wake up. When I am more awake I get a cup of tea, apple juice, a sandwich and chocolate which I absentmindedly eat. I’m still groggy. When the surgeon comes by I am finally awake enough to have the conversation. He had opened up six holes on the back of my hand for the keyhole surgery, but he couldn’t find the root of the ganglion. But he found some other tissue injury on the back of the hand which he fixed. As for the ganglion, he had to open up the wrist up where the old incision was and remove the ganglion. He then said that he burned the area to prevent it from coming back again. But there’s still a chance it might come back again, and then he might not want to surgically remove it again. 

I am absolutely devastated. It might come back and if it does, he might not want to take it out again. I can barely call a surgery like this a success. 

When I get home, I’m sad and in pain. It might be fixed, but I am mourning since it might not be. I don’t want to live with that thing on my hand, restricting my movements. Please. Let it never come back. Please.

Mark:

Maja’s into surgery first thing this morning so I know I won’t be hearing from her for a while, although we do have an early morning call and keep in touch right up to when she goes in.

Now I start to send pitches. The bulk of this will just be researching who to send it to and just sending it and hope they get back. I’m looking at sending to different types of publication, both on and offline proposing a regular feature of The Tour Diaries once we get on the road in December. And there will also be book pitches to be sent and literary agents. And I’m also trying to get us on an established tour, either something to make us change our plans for December or, more likely, something starting hopefully early next year.

What I can say is that the people I want to get our stuff to really do not want to be called. I get it. You work for a music publication. The world and his mother either wants to be writing for that publication or being written about by it. That’s a lot of people looking for their attention. If you were able to call, they’d never be off the phone dealing with just that stuff. So, email us please. If we like it, we’ll call you. Fine.

But there is one person I can speak to. I hope. I know we’re not right for him, but he might just know someone we will be right for, then I can go to them with his name and his blessing. And it will be nice to start with at least one friendly phonecall where I might just get the time of day and a little more besides. This is to John Dolan who was my boss when I was a music writer and general feature writer on The Evening Echo in Cork.

The mad thing here is, he was already going to be my first attempted point of contact today. He popped up on my social media last night and we had a little hello and I let him know I was living in Ireland. Which he said he would be interested in knowing more about. Well, he’s about to get the full lowdown.

I message him first thing saying I have something I would like to talk about and I leave my number, and he’s back to me almost immediately with his number saying I can call anytime. I’m on it immediately and we have the most wonderful catch up and chat. He’s hugely enthusiastic about all that we’re doing and says that yes, it really sounds like something the right kinds of publications would be very happy to work with and would pay for. Not his as they have a more specific brief, but then I knew that. What he does do is give me the name of the right person to speak to on one of the nationals. And I can drop his name in there. Brilliant brilliant. Thankyou very much. I’m on it. I call that newspaper office, expecting to be put through and to tell that person I’m an ex colleague of John’s and a former fellow journo and all that. But reception tells me all journalists are working from home, can’t be called and here’s her email address. Great. My one solid contact, complete with reference, and all I can do is email and hope it gets picked up. At least I’m able to mention my association with her friend and colleague in the subject field but that really isn’t the impact I was looking for.

After this, it’s onto the numbers game of identifying publications, trying to identify the right person if possible and sending the right kind of email.

Out of office hours and it’s back to recording, finally succeeding in getting a vocal down that’s absolutely on the line for every single syllable. 

Day 10, the tour diaries prologue

Day 10

Friday November 12

Mark:

7am and I’m up and on the guitar to prepare this song for recording. In the kitchen with yesterday’s vocal track playing and the metronome on. I’m working on internalising this guitar part and getting it totally locked. A lot of this is just looping the intro and the first verse, really nailing it with the vocals.

I get that done, complete with double tracked vocals, and send it to Maja, she loves it and asks for another version in a different key. This means repeating the whole recording process all over again. But I have this now and little more than an hour later I have that too. Then I decide to learn the next song she wants for recording – an old one of mine called Does It Matter. 

Maja:

With very few exceptions, there are no proper studio recordings of Mark’s old songs. It’s mainly simple demos that he recorded by himself which I have listened to. And recently, listening to them, I have really started to feel Does It Matter. I want to do that one, and feel confident that I can perform it in a good way. I want to blow life into that song. 

Mark:

In a way Maja has blown life into so many of the songs. She really is making them feel brand new, even to me and it’s really mad to be hearing and especially playing some of them again, while at the same time adding new material to the pile that we feel equally good about.

After a solid day of practice and recording I’m totally done. And it’s bar time. This will be the first time I’ve been to The Trap since we played.

I am in no way prepared for what meets me. At first it’s kinda gentle. Just chatting and hanging out with a few of the regulars, mainly Breda and Mick. Then out of nowhere, Breda says to me, ‘Your song, I Like You Better When I’m Naked. That’s the best song I’ve heard for years.’ And I won’t say who, but someone asks if I’d be interested in selling them the rights for it. I won’t say how much for either, but I think they’re actually serious. No no and no. Breda again. ‘That song is a hit. You really should sell the rights.’ I really think I shouldn’t. She then tells me that last week we absolutely blew up on Snapchat. Wow. OK.

Maja:

No way we’re selling those rights. As a 50% shareholder, I am putting my veto in. Not happening.

Mark:

Meeting adjourned. Rights stay where they are.

Then the landlord Jimmy suggests I go and see what’s happening out back. So I do. Damn. It’s a full on wedding afters. The band is really cool – just acoustic guitar, cajon and a frontman but they really make it work. I say hi to a few people I know then go back into the front bar. A little while later, our new friend Eileen grabs me and leads me to the buffet area where the band are taking a break and hanging out. She introduces me to them as a songwriter. Cool. So we have a bit of a chat there before they go back out, and we’re joined by Adam, a well known DJ in the town who’ll be doing this thing later on. 

When the band kicks off again, I feel like checking them out so back in I go. I’ve been in a few minutes when Cyvina comes up to me. She’s the girl who first got Maja to sing in here a few days before our show. She didn’t make it to our Friday night, but she says to me now, ‘Do you know you guys have gone viral?’ Sorry? What? Your show last week. It blew up on Facebook. She shows me some stuff now. Three videos, all with hundreds of comments, a combined total or around a thousand likes, and whole bunches of shares. One video of our A Capella song Bang Bang, which we wrote the night before the show, has had well over 500 likes and over 50 shares. I don’t know what really constitutes as viral, but if you consider the local numbers, this is quite significant. This town has 3,500 people and the biggest town in the county, Tullamore, ten minutes down the road, only has 15,000. And to put it into even more perspective, when The Trap announced it was reopening after lockdown, that post got just 20 shares. It’s now that I start to realise that I’m kinda being recognised. A girl I’ve never seen before comes up to me and says, ‘I thought you guys were on tour.’ To which I reply we soon will be, but Maja has gone to Sweden and we’ll be meeting in Berlin in a few weeks. OK. She’s satisfied with that answer. 

As for the ‘viral’ videos, I’m really sorry to report that I don’t have the Facebook links. What I subsequently learn is that Cyvina just happened to be looking at a message as she saw me, scrolled down that person’s feed, and found the videos and then grabbed me and showed me. She’s then very quickly off before I get the chance to ask her to copy the link and send it to me, and I think I’ll see her later on but I just don’t. Moving forwards, she was later unable to remember whose page they were on and so far, I’ve not been able to find them to see what else is going on or to engage with people. It feels like a big missed opportunity and I’m kicking myself for not being quicker in the moment, but it really didn’t feel like an urgent enough thing to try to stop her from running off, and she will tell me she’s kicking herself for not being more on the ball in the moment as well. But it’s fine. I saw it, and I can just feel recognition in the air. Being in here tonight, I can see that we really have tickled some kind of consciousness.

Maja:

I’m so envious. Ridiculously envious. So I’ve been performing and been grabbing these peoples hearts, but, really, I have no way of knowing that except through Mark. He tells me all kinds of stories when we talk in the evening. I’m lying in bed, trying to rest and am feeling sorry for myself with my hand resting on a pillow. It hurts too much to have it on the bed. So someone tried to buy the rights to our song at the bar? Wait what? That’s just mad. And people are recognising you? And asking about me? Wait what? I don’t even know anyone there. I mean I’ve kinda half chatted to some people at the bar, but not even that much. This just feels strange. And amazing. I wonder what people would tell me if I was there. Would they care? Would they love me? Try to take photos? Would heads turn? Would whispers spread? Am I having hubris, or would those things actually happen? I have no idea. Maybe they would demand a performance like last Wednesday? That was just crazy and I really didn’t wish to sing that night, but it was still amazing to be so popular that I couldn’t refuse a request like that. Everything feels so unreal as I lie in bed, fantasizing about fame, the very same bed I slept in as a teenager. The very same room I lived in as a teenager. I remember so many nights lying here, speaking on the phone, dreaming about the future. Dreaming about my next trip, my next adventure. So here I am, once again, lying here, dreaming. But this time the dreams feel so unreal. So I am dreaming about becoming something of a pop/rock star. It just feels so unrealistic to even type, but it just feels like it is going to happen. It feels like I’m telling you we’re expecting rain tomorrow. It’s just going to happen. Of course I don’t know that, as you never know that it is actually going to rain.

Mark: 

We live in Ireland. It’s going to rain tomorrow.

Maja:

But right now, speaking with Mark about what happened at the bar today, it feels like it’s going to happen. And thinking about that feels just mad. It makes me excited, but also very sad that I am not there to see the reactions for myself. It would be amazing to see, but I can’t. But that might be for the best, who knows? What I can do is just to lie here in bed, rest and dream. Dream about everything that can be. Everything I will make happen.

Day 12 to 27, the tour diaries prologue

Day 12

Sunday November 14

Mark:

Sometimes if one of us can’t get to sleep – normally me – one of us might go to the other room for the night. Again, normally me. When I wake up I’m surprised to see Maja isn’t next to me. My immediate reaction is to wonder why she slept in the other room last night. Then I suddenly wake up properly and realise where she is. Oh. Silly boy.

Once I’m up and awake, I decide to get a pretty significant job off my to do list. Record the set for Maja on just guitar so that she’s able to practice by herself with this to run through. I go into the studio for that and it actually turns out to be really good practice for me as well, playing the songs through without any vocals. And also just playing the songs through because if you don’t do this every now and again, they can disappear from your mind and be a hassle to get back again. Also, seeing as one of my next things is going to be to start getting to recording all these for Maja to make actual demos of in Sweden, it’s great practice there. 

Maja:

We’re optimistically thinking that I’ll actually be able to record any of the demos and yes, I’d love to do it. But I’m not in shape to start yet, but maybe I’ll get to it either here in Sweden or maybe in Germany, so it’s great to have them. 

Day 13

Monday November 15

Mark:

I really thought there would be a lot more publishing opportunities than there seems to be. I’m not talking books, more magazines and newspapers and their online equivalents. I thought there would be almost countless opportunities to target and maybe build up some kind of syndication or portfolio that could serve as an instant income stream and constant publicity, but now I’m looking up close, I see that we really fall through the gaps of so many; not quite completely music and not quite completely travel. And when you’re looking at publications around the world, they generally have one thing in common. They feature people from their catchment area. So American press, if they were to feature anyone abroad, would feature Americans and so on. We just don’t seem to be hitting the buttons hard enough and pretty much falling through the cracks. 

Maja:

It’s just great that Mark’s on this. Hopefully we’ll be able to catch someone’s eye. I think we have something cool going on. If this is not worth publishing, I honestly don’t know what is.

Day 14

Tuesday November 16

Mark:

I settle into a pattern over the next few days of recording tracks for Maja to work on in Sweden and contacting venues in Berlin. And looking at all the Irish bars they have there that might not have music regularly or at all, but we think we could go in and persuade them to let us do our half hour thing. There really is no point contacting them though. I have enough experience of this with bars through my years booking and hustling with The Insiders. Music venues, yes. Email them, or maybe even call them, but most don’t like being called as I’m seeing here. But bars? Forget it. You have to walk in, find a manager, and talk to them. Then, maybe, just maybe.

So my thing now is mostly being in the studio for recording and calling and emailing. With this, I move everything back downstairs and start utilising our wonderful studio space again. It really was fun to have it all in the bedroom but equally, it’s feels great to be back in here again.

The plan now is for everything to have two identical guitar tracks to thicken that out, then under there, bass which may well be barely audible and just enough to lift the guitar tracks. Then we’ll have some light percussion and of course the vocals. The idea is to be able to present a representation of us that is big and lively, but not so much that we’re selling ourselves on false pretences. You know, wonderful grooving basslines locked into supercool drums, people hear it, book us for their band night, then we turn up with just a single guitar. 

So yeah. Next few days is just totally on that. I have work to do.

Maja:

And I’m just sleeping. Glad someone is doing the work.

Day 18

Saturday November 20

Mark:

I’m not really one for going out to a bar with nothing going on on the offchance. If there’s a gig on, or a jam, or sport, or anything really, great. Then I can happily hang on my own and get talking to people, either strangers or people I know however vaguely. Tonight works as a go-ey out thing. Saturday night in The Trap is band night so yeah, I’m there

Almost immediately I bump into Adam, Steve and a few of their friends. They start telling anyone around us that I’m in the next U2, and they ask about Maja and how she’s doing. Then Adam sings, ‘I like you better when you’re naked,’ at me. Wow. This thing has really hit. Now there are a whole bunch of guys at a table behind us and Adam and Steve want to introduce me to them. There’s a band in here and it’s a bit loud so no-one can really talk much and we can’t even really do introductions. But the guys at the table make it clear they know of me. Before I know it, I’m centre of a whole bunch of guys and pictures are being taken. Then I’m picked up like a trophy. And pictures are being taken. Or video. I have no idea. Is this a ‘we’re with the guy in the band’ moment or a ‘Let’s make fun of the guy in the band’ moment? I have no idea but it all feels like good times Saturday night times. And just like last week, a few people come up to me and ask when the tour’s beginning and ask where my girlfriend is. And just like last week, I don’t know anyone who’s asking. Seems like we’re getting around this town.

I settle in and basically have a great night among the regulars, mingling in and out with people. And afterwards Maja calls to hear all about it. Once more she’s feeling thrilled and totally left out at the same time. And once more, I tell her she’s the coolest person in town precisely because she’s not here.

Maja:

Come on. This is just mad. What’s even the deal with this? Someone just picked you up? To take photos, or videos? And I was the one singing? No-one has ever done anything even similar to me. It’s mad. And amazing. I am envious beyond, but at the same time so happy that it is happening. It’s absurd being here and just hearing about all the cool things that are happening in Ireland. 

Day 19

Sunday, November 21

Maja:

Mark is really trying his best to find publishers and magazines to monetise this project as quickly as possible, but I’m thinking we should focus a little more on what actually matters, the tour, producing music and writing diaries. We can’t allow ourselves to be derailed too long from the core project that is the diaries. We live life, do music and write about it. Right now, the music needs more attention, and we need to focus on that. Doing too many administrative tasks before we really have the music in place could be a little bit counterproductive. It’s important to stay focused, and I don’t think that we can do too much until we’re on the ground. People are about meetings, and it’s easier to explain to someone when we’re there, face to face. I know these things take time, but we agree Mark should be focusing on music right now. We’re going to make this happen. We’ll find a way. We have a couple of ideas. Let’s see what we decide to do next.

Day 20

Monday November 22

Yep, and as we move into the last week in Ireland before Berlin, I’m really focussed on contacting venues to see what can be shaken out, and really just getting ourselves introduced. It’s pretty much that and prep work to make sure all the packing is in order, and the house is left in as good a shape as it can possibly be before I leave.

Day 22

Wednesday November 24

We have our first gig offer for Berlin. The Artliners, December 19. This quickly gets agreed and confirmed. We have lift off. 

Maja:

Just amazing. Someone actually got back to us with a gig offer. And it is going to be livestreamed, so anyone following The Diaries can actually tune in. Amazing. I can’t believe it is true. And no, I have absolutely no concept whatsoever of what it is actually going to be like to play it. But I look forward to it. A lot. It’s probably not that big, but surprise me. It’s going to be an amazing to experience. And I also think we’ll meet other musicians that are going to play there too, which I have never done before. I’ve never been to a gig like this before, not even as an audience member. My experience is a couple of concerts and rock gigs in Stockholm over ten years ago, but I have no idea if this is going to be similar in any way, shape or form. I just don’t know and that excites me. I hope we get a big audience, the bigger the better, but honestly I’m going to perform the same way regardless.

Day 23

Thursday Nov 25

Mark:

All the other replies coming in is from venues saying they’re not currently doing gigs because of Covid. This is a little concerning to say the least as it seems a real danger that Berlin could close down before we even get there. There’s already talk of other places in Europe talking about lockdowns. This is a bit of a concerning time and, while I know many other people have suffered much more from Covid, it would really be a blow to cancel our European tour this close to heading off after planning this for so long. Right back to that conversation on March 17, eight months ago. And all the preparation in Ireland. This really has been in the works a long time and it would be heartbreaking to have it all closed down before it even had a chance to begin.

Maja:

I guess this is the only thing that worries me. Eventual lockdowns and other impossibilities because of covid. But if that happens, we’ll just go back to Ireland and produce our album. Another thing I am nervous about is the hustling. Actually going into pubs and bars and asking for a gig. Could it really happen just like that? But this is Mark’s speciality so I’m going to leave the talking to him. I’ll command the room at our performances instead, that’s my job. That somehow feels easier right now. But I might learn how to do the hustling, who knows?

Today it is finally two weeks since the surgery and I get my bandages off. At the hospital, they cut off the bandages and I can finally see how my hand looks. It actually looks quite alright. The new incision follows the old one really nicely. It’s going to look like only one scar when it’s healed. As for the keyhole surgery, I find 5 holes at the back of my hand that kind of look like staples. They’re black and straight. It is really painful on both the backside of the hand and the front, and a lot of bruising. But that is going to go away real soon. I get to meet another surgeon and talk a little and then I get two wrist supports. One for more day to day activities if I want to use it, and one for training, so that I won’t hurt it doing more strenuous activities. Such as push ups. The surgeon expresses a lot of anger regarding push ups, and talks about how bad it is for young women with soft joints to do sports like that since it so easily wrecks their wrists. She’s apparently seen many people like me. Young active women with wrecked wrists. Which is quite sad since we’re encouraged to do push ups, but no one is talking about the dangers with it. Only the benefits. So beware, if you have soft joints, push ups can actually be bad for you and wreck your wrists, and then you’ll have surgery. Twice maybe more. As I had. But an encouraging thing we spoke about was guitar/bass playing and she doesn’t think that that will make the ganglion come back. Which is great. 

I just hope it won’t come back full stop.

Day 24

Friday Nov 26

I’ve decided I don’t really want to go out tonight. So I don’t Instead, I stay in and write Insanity. This is from a fragment of a song idea I started messing about with a few weeks ago which was centred around lyrics we wrote back in London in Maja’s first few weeks there, with the concept coming from Maja’s own thoughts and experiences. I’m now bashing and shaping this few pages of lyrics into melodies which fit what I’m working on now. I get it finished, roughly recorded and send it to Maja. She gets back to me immediately. 

Maja:

Insanity! It’s insane. It’s just amazing. And I remember very well when we started with the lyrics back in Carol Close, in London. It was lovely being next to Mark. And now, I’m struggling with multiple feelings. I really really wish I was there so I could be more present in what he is doing, but I am also so happy that he finds the motivation and time to write music. It’s great. But I’m still sad. I feel left out. Left out of something that feels so incredibly personal to me. But I’m going to get the opportunity to put my spin on it as soon as we meet up and start working on it. I just wish I was there.

Mark:

With this I decide I will go out afterall. Off to The Trap where, as soon as I enter, a girl sitting at the bar who I don’t know insists on buying me a drink. Five minutes later, she and her friends leave. I’m now hanging out with a few of the regulars we’ve got to know quite well in here and who were at our show.

They start to talk to me about a bar in New York which is pretty much the Clara bar where a lot of people from Clara go and people from Offaly, who live in New York, frequent. They give me their surnames and say that if we go in there and mention we know them, and say we live in Clara, we will be assured of a warm welcome. With this, we suddenly have an in to New York.

Maja:

Every time Mark goes out something completely unexpected seems to happen. Which is amazing. So we have somewhere to begin in New York now. I’m not sure how much that actually means, but it is something that we definitely didn’t have yesterday.

Day 25

Saturday November 27

Band night at The Trap and I’m out for it. The place is packed when I enter around 9pm and I know a few of the guys around the bar in front of the band. Immediately they’re asking me if I can get up and do a song tonight. I bat the requests away, saying that no-one wants to hear me sing. Yes, me and Maja have spoken about it and agreed I won’t do any performances without her. Still, the insistences continue and I continue to politely refuse. But I can’t deny that this is really cool. 

Day 26

Sunday November 28

It’s Pat’s Sunday in The Goalpost in Tullamore but I can’t get hold of him and don’t want to assume I can just turn up and get a lift back. He might have canceled for any reason for a start. Or he might have plans for later. But really, I just don’t want to do him the dis-courtesy of just turning up expecting I can get a lift home without asking. And there really is no point taking the train because, by the time I’d arrive at the venue, I’d have already missed the last train home. 

I decide I’m quite cool with staying in and am getting well settled when my phone rings about 8:30. It’s Pat returning my call. I thank him very much for getting back, but say it’s too late now. I’ve already missed the last train out. No problem he says. He’s five minutes away, he can give me a lift there and back. Brilliant. Best get my proper skates on and get ready then. So I do.

We arrive and as he goes to his spot to set up, he sees someone at the table right in front that he knows. Hang on. I know him too. It’s the drummer from last night and Pat formally introduces us. His name’s John by the way. This is cool. Pat gets started, nice and lively so it’s not really possible for me and John to talk too much, but we do the clinky glasses thing and snatch little, inconsequential chats in between songs.

Later, we move over to the bar and it becomes a little easier to talk. We chat about John’s drumming experience – he really has a lot – and the live scene in general in Tullamore and the county. Then he asks what I’m up to musically. When I tell him I’m heading to Berlin to start a European tour the day after tomorrow, he totally recoils. ‘Oh wow,’ he says. ‘I’m talking to a celebrity.’ ‘No, no no,’ I assure him. But he won’t be dissuaded. We go back and forth and have a laugh about this and eventually, he concedes. A little. ‘OK, I’m talking to someone who’s going to be a celebrity.’ I’m happy to leave that one there.

Day 27

Monday November 29

Maja:

I’ve been fixing so much with the car recently. There are different laws and regulations in different countries in Europe, so I have to make sure I’m prepared for them. My car currently has winter tyres on, and the summer tyres are broken so I have bought new summer tyres that I am going to put on the car today. Which is crazy enough in itself. To put on summer tyres when it has just reached minus 8 degrees. But apparently it’s illegal to drive with the studded ones in Germany, so I guess I’ll have to drive around here with summer tyres for now. In the middle of winter. It’s still better to have the summer tyres on, because when I finally reach Ireland, it’s going to be summer weather. At least as far as tyres is concerned. I just hope it won’t start to snow until I leave, because I don’t think the hour drive to the ferry will be very safe otherwise. I also get the properly serviced. We’re planning on driving all over Europe and I don’t want it to break down on us so far from home.

Mark:

Nice little tickle, also while on the subject of cars. Our landlord, who’s always been super helpful when anything has popped up, has offered to give me a lift to Dublin airport tomorrow. He has something on there and says he’s happy to make the little detours to pick me up and then make the airport drop. So that’s me sorted for tomorrow. And it’s not even one of those early flights, so a nice, chilled, 11:30 departure time from the house. Absolutely brilliant.

The Berlin Diary, Day minus one

Tuesday November 30

Mark:

Off we go into the unknown. Both of us leave at exactly the same time. Kinda. The landlord picks me up at 11:30 as arranged and off to the airport with my meticulously packed bags filled with leads and microphones and other bits of performing equipment. And I just knew it. I knew I would get totally stopped by security and examined. First bag, the guy says, we’ve stopped this one. ‘Oh, I knew this would happen.’ ‘You did?’ ‘Yes. Absolutely.’ ‘So you know we found a knife in your bag?’ ‘Oh. Oh!!’ I remember now. And I’m trying to take the bag off the guy, saying I know where it is and it’s OK, and he’s saying, it’s not OK and no you don’t have it. We have it. Oh dear. I’m trying to tell him it’s OK and he’s giving me the total, ‘stay back’ treatment. He digs in and finds a carrier bag and I tell him it’s OK, just rip the thing open. He gives me a look that says, ‘Quiet you. You’re in trouble here boy,’ but then does indeed rip the bag open. The next look on his face, I’m not sure if it’s relief or disappointment. I really want to think it’s disappointment. As he pulls out the table knife I’d forgotten about that I’d packed to make sandwiches on the way. That I’d forgotten to do. ‘Oh,’ he says. Yep. That’s disappointment written all over his face by the way. ‘It’s a table knife.’ Yep. He’s not getting his James Bond moment with me, or whatever he thought he was going to get. ‘That’s OK,’ he says, and puts it back. I’m free to go. Almost. Now I get called over by someone else who’s just checked the other bag, this one which is full to capacity with all the leads, microphones and everything else. ‘I’m going to have to unpack this bag to check it,’ she says. And proceeds to break my heart as she rips it all apart. ‘How the hell did you manage to get all this in here?’ she asks. ‘I have no idea but I’m about to have to start to manage it all over again.’ Which is how I end up on the airport floor surrounded by musical detritus and empty bags which I’m now trying to remake. Yes, I get it done and I’m in. Plane time. Off to Berlin.

And this is where we’re leaving at exactly the same time. My takeoff time is 3pm. Just as that happens, Maja is setting off on her drive to the Swedish coast to get the ferry that will take her to Gdansk in Poland from where she will begin her epic drive to Berlin at sometime around midday tomorrow. My job now is to get on the ground, get us set up at the hostel, and then tomorrow, go hunting for a free parking space, or at least some parking space, so that Maja has somewhere to actually drive to when she arrives in the city.

As for my own arrival, I land, find the airport train station, and within two minutes, a train is leaving for Warshauer Platz, the exact station for our hostel. Major result. Out of the station and I’m checked in and in our room within 15 minutes. I’ve not written about it but the past few days have been an absolute flurry of house and packing activity as I’ve organised everything and cleaned everything so that it could all be left for a while. It’s been quite the project. Multiples bigger than I possibly imagined, and with the arrival now, possibly after all the nervous energy accompanying such a trip and the preparations for it, I’m seriously exhausted. But anyway, Maja had already asked me not to go out and experience Berlin without her. This is something we’re going to do together and I’m in no shape for a mad night out anyway. I settle in for my own private movie night.

Maja:

It’s traveling time. Finally. I have had a wonderful time with my parents and dog, which was very personally necessary for me, but now it is time to go start my next adventure. And I don’t know when I’ll be back. It is with conflicting feelings that I pack my bags and load them into the car. I’m driving an hour to the ferry that goes from Nynäshamn to Gdansk. Well there I check in and have a room for myself. Isn’t it amazing to be able to travel by sleeping? I’m fascinated by that concept. It’s just so much better than flight when you just have to stress, and you can bring your car. Once on board the ship I locate the piano bar where my phone can receive internet, so I sit there and use the time to update the Diaries. It’s wonderful to sit here and listen to the piano while writing. I haven’t really been able to get to it as much as I wanted, and I’ve only just been able to somewhat start using my hand again. It’s so much easier to write with two hands. 

The Berlin Diary, Day zero

Wednesday December 1

Mark:

I have one job today. One really easy job, then I can chill for the rest of the day. Maybe get some writing done. And then see Maja tonight as I welcome her to Berlin. Three weeks after we said goodbye at Dublin airport. This job is to go out and find a free parking space for her to drive to. I’ve researched this and have seen that where we’re staying is right at the edge of paid parking. We can’t assume she can just find a parking space outside the zone as they might be really busy. So all I have to do is walk down the road and find areas that aren’t used so much, then it’s job done. It’s pretty cold so I really want to just nip out, confirm all is good then quickly retreat to the hostel. Possibly even back to bed for a while before lazily getting round to some writing when I feel like it. Maja’s due here around 7-8pm so I have absolutely loads of time.

This is how it actually plays out. I quickly find ‘free’ parking but it seems to be residents’s parking because I soon see a few cars have been clamped. And closer inspection shows me that all the unclamped cars are displaying some kind of green sticker. Oh. Not here then. Let’s walk a little further. Yep. I just keep seeing the same thing. So I guess these areas are free, so to speak, but only for residents who have this special green permit. Not at all what we’re looking for. I’ve heard about free parking lots so I decide I now have to ditch the street idea and go looking for them. 

I get on google maps and find a few and make myself a little route of them. It’s raining now. The temperature has dropped considerably and I’m starting to feel just a little chill through my three layers but I’m kinda OK. It’s all well and good knowing these areas exist. But again, I really do need to go there just to make sure they’re not wildly oversubscribed, or anything else. I brace myself and set off on the walk to the first one, a few kilometres away from where I am now. I get there and this ‘free’ parking space is a supermarket carpark, free as long as you’re doing your shopping. Balls. Let’s go to the next one. Another few kilometres away. Balls. The same thing. And again. And again. By this time, I’ve been walking five or six hours and Maja’s going to arrive soon. I have time to check out one more. There is another place I knew about this morning but it’s way out and I never really had it as an option, but it might have to be now but there’s no time to get out there and back by the time Maja arrives. Not even on the public transport. Or at least, I’m not going to risk that as I have no idea how it works yet, or even if it will go anywhere near the place in question. So I go and check this one last place out, thinking I really could do with this one working. And yep. Another supermarket. Balls, balls and balls. Sorry Maja. I couldn’t possibly have done more and I’ve failed. So now to call the hostel, which I know has parking available at a tenner a night. But no answer. So I have to get myself back there as quickly as possible and hope they can accommodate us. For this I manage to work out how the trams work and am mercifully able to save my legs for the journey back. Once on a tram, and so sitting in a warm place for the first time in eight hours, I check my route on an app which I know is always a few kilometres short for long walks. Damn. It’s clocked me at 18 kilometres which means I’ve done at least 20, and most likely one or two more. For no result. Not at all what I was planning for today. On the way back Maja calls, sympathises with my fruitless, heartbreaking quest, although she’s got problems of her own in destructively snowy Poland right now. I’m really glad that she’s not too put out by what I haven’t found and says yeah, sure. Let’s pay for the hostel and sort this out in a day or two. Then she makes a request that she’d really like to get on. She was talking about Wiener Schnitzel while we were still both in Ireland and now she’d really like to find such a place where we could have dinner together tonight. OK. I’ll get on it. 

Maja:

At 12 sharp the cars are able to leave the ferry. And I’m off on my own driving in a country I’ve never ever been to. I have my phone GPS on and follow the route going directly west almost reaching the shoreline of Poland and then it’ll go almost directly south. It’s supposed to take 6 hours and 38 minutes. Perfect. My mum’s been warning me about a snowstorm that’s been in southern Sweden, where it apparently snowed about 50 cm in the matter of only a couple of hours. I’ll have to watch out so I don’t get snowed in somewhere. As I drive through the Polish countryside, for the first time in my life I receive a text message from a number that I don’t recognise warning me about strong winds and snowfall possibly disrupting traffic. It’s unusual and quite impressive that they send out those things on text messages nowadays. I need to stop after a while and use the restroom, so I park at a little village in the middle of nowhere, and walk into the supermarket and ask one of the staff, ‘Excuse me, can I use the restroom?’ I’m met with total incomprehension. She starts talking to someone else, looking at me and it’s clear to see that they don’t speak any English at all. I gesture that I need to pee and say ‘Toilet.’ That seems to have done the trick. I get the harsh answer ‘Nyet.’ Balls. But they’re still talking and one girl seems to type something on her phone. She then shows me google translate that says ‘There’s a restroom next to the church,’ and points in a direction. OK, thank you very much. I buy some drinks and snacks and start walking in that direction. There is a huge church there, which I run around, but there’s no toilet or doors that look possible to open. Balls again. I’m in a hurry since I want to finish as much of the drive as possible before nightfall, and that’s about 4pm. I’d better continue on my way. I drive another three hours before I stop by a rest area by the highway. It’s pitch dark outside and the wind is so strong it feels like I’m going to blow away. It’s icy, cold and dark and I’m alone in the middle of nowhere far from home. Oh well, I guess that’s just how it is on the road. There’s going to be a lot of this. Well, back in the car and I finish the drive, arriving at the hostel in Berlin at 8 PM sharp. I call Mark and in a couple of minutes he comes outside. What strikes me is how short he is. I can forget these things. And how blond he is. He is BLONDE now, which feels so unfamiliar. I don’t know why I react so strongly, but it is amazing to meet him as we both explode in the happiest of smiles. Oh how I’ve missed him.

I’ve asked him to find us a good wienerschnitzel place for our celebratory dinner and after leaving my bags at the hostel we go to a really nice restaurant ordering wienerschnitzel. ‘Cheers, Mark. To our European tour, and to us!’

Mark:

Yes I am blonde now and Maja saw me through the process from Sweden so I have no idea what that’s all about. I guess that’s what an eight hour drive through the snow in Poland with no toilet breaks can do to a person. And yes, it is amazing and actually a tiny bit surreal to see her after three weeks apart. But we actually don’t have too much time to dwell in the street because her running car is right in the middle of the road and Maja makes it very clear she wants to be totally finished with the car and out of it as soon as possible so can we please go to the car park space. We do that, then back to the hostel for a quick bit of acclimatisation, then yes, it’s off to the wonderful restaurant I found which absolutely matches Maja’s requirements to the letter. She’s mystified as to how the hell I found it. Well, I google-mapped wienerschnitzel places, then went out and visited the few I found that were within walking distance and decided this was the best one. The walking part wasn’t the best fun, and I really hesitated, given my mildly wrecked state after 20 or so kilometres looking for a parking space. But then I thought of Maja struggling through the Polish snow for so long to get here, and thought I really had to, literally, go the extra mile. As a result, I was able to confirm and be totally confident in the wonderful place I introduced her to. It was absolutely worth it and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. For the record, it was Cafe Restaurant Jolesch in Freidrichshain-Kreuzberg.

Maja:

I am very happy you went the extra mile for me. That’s adorable. Thank you.

Mark:

As we talk, it becomes clear that all those other miles before that last extra one one weren’t at all necessary. Maja did actually tell me last week about the low emissions car sticker she had acquired – a green thing with a big number 4 printed in it – that allowed us to park in so many of the places that I walked right past thinking they were a no-no. She also sent me a picture of it, along with a document detailing parking rights contained within ownership. It dawns on me now that my dismissal of all those parking spaces was mostly based on assumption; in any area, as soon as I saw clamped vehicles, my two plus two equalled these spaces being for residents rather than simply free spaces for anyone with the low emissions permission. It’s also true that we were both dealing with a lot of little jobs and details last week and I’m making the defence that I didn’t quite put two and two together and that also, this one piece of information, along with all the other things running around my head at the time, simply slipped off the radar. I trust this is all completely understandable to Your Honour and esteemed members of the jury.

The Berlin Diary, Day one

Thursday December 2

Maja:

Waking up in the hostel and I keep feeling surprised about how nice this place really is. The beds are completely comfortable and we’re alone in the room. I slept OK, but I’m still tired from the journey yesterday. I’m quite excited about being in Berlin. I’ve never really been here before. I mean, I’ve been here once, during a trip after high school with a bunch of my friends, but we were only here for one night, so I didn’t really get to experience much of it. Berlin has been a place I’ve always wanted to come back to. And now I’m finally here. The shower feels amazing, and I pretty much have everything I need right here. Dressed and ready, we find our way to the local supermarket to buy some breakfast, which we eat in the well used common room/kitchen which is filled with people. No-one is really talking to us and we don’t make the effort to talk to anyone. We’re still a bit incognito, we haven’t even got a guitar yet. So what we need to do is to find a decent guitar shop so we can start with what we actually need to do. We take a walk down the east side gallery, in other words, the Berlin wall. Then, when we’re finally able to read the map a little bit better, we manage to stumble into the guitar shop which turns out to be a little repair shop with some expensive looking guitars for sale in the back. And the people in there don’t seem that chatty, so we go to the next guitar shop that we find on the map. That also turns out to be a little repair shop but this one is run by an Englishman called Gary, who seems to really enjoy a chat. We tell him what we’re about and he gives us the directions to a music store that’s big and is going to have everything we need. Yes. I’m delighted, finally we’re getting somewhere. After having a really nice chat we start the walk to a store called Just Music, which is huge. It’s a five story music shop and on every floor they have a theme. You could literally spend the whole day there without any problems, testing out everything you need. But me and Mark have been walking the whole day and we’re getting a bit tired now. We just want to find the equipment we need, and then go home so we can actually start with what we need to do tomorrow.

Mark:

It’s all very well having the car in Europe now to ferry stuff around in, but with Maja initially flying to Sweden and me flying here to Berlin, we couldn’t possibly bring the big things we needed. We’re talking about a guitar, with attendant guitar bag, and PA speaker, and trolley to carry it around on. Well, we would have needed a new guitar anyway as the one in Ireland can’t be plugged in, which is vital for our setup. But speaker and trolley? Forget packing that little bundle into carryon, so here we are.

Back in Ireland I made a bit of a mistake when looking for music shops; I looked up acoustic shops. Which is why we end up in luthierland and not guitarshopland.

So, thankyou Gary who couldn’t have been more accurate in his description or more fitting in his enthusiasm for Just Music. It’s the biggest music shop either of us has ever seen. I thought DLX in Sweden was big. And it is huge. But one floor of this place is bigger than DLX and it has four floors. Keys, drums, guitar and bass, and sound, each floor also stocking other equipment loosely related to its speciality. Actually there are five floors if you include the miscellaneous lobby. Oh. Six floors. It also has a restaurant thing at the top. It’s big, OK.

Maja:

OK.

Mark:

These kinds of decisions are always tough, but it’s great that the staff are so uniformly excellent and knowledgeable in their fields. The attendants on each floor totally do the thing they sell, so the guy guiding us through guitars is a serious gigging musician, and the guy who takes us through speakers is a fully functioning DJ. It’s fair to say the people in here really know their stuff. We find the acoustic guitar section and it’s almost impossible to know where to begin to find The One. But when we’ve picked out our favourite three from the hundreds of guitars they have, we’re delighted when our guide, without having seen our choices, makes two recommendations and we already have those exact models in the music room ready to try out. Yes. The music room. Little silent havens off to the side of the main rooms where you can go and play all you want and also try different amps, all in your own time and all in private. It’s a wonderful facility to have and we make the most of it. Our new friend suggests a guitar amp or two in here that could also work with the vocals. We put that under consideration but say that we will also venture downstairs to the specialised speaker place. But first, to try out what we have here. We have a few that we really like, but when it comes to actually playing them, they don’t quite sing to us. Then we come to the Cort, which is one of the recommendations. And yes. This will be ours. That done, we then get taken to see the guitar bags and find the perfect combination of soft and hard. Hard case for flying, but also superlight so that we can carry it around on our backs to gigs without any hassle at all. OK. Speaker next. 

When we get down there, we’re taken straight to something that looks small and powerful but is really expensive and makes no sense. Is this what they call entry level here? Then, when our new friend here takes us for a closer look at it, he starts to talk about where the batteries go and my penny drops. Oh. They think we want something for busking. No no no. That’s not what we’re looking for at all. We clear that up and we’re taken into the DJ room to look at the real gear. As we do, and we talk about the kinds of things we need and what we’re really looking for – no DI for the guitar for a start thankyou very much – we start to get treated with a little more respect and understanding. Professional to professional if you like, and the whole tone of the conversation changes. Right, the guy realises. I’ve got two people here who at least have some idea of what they’re talking about, and a whole lot of experience. How can I help?

The way it’s set up in here is that all the speakers are set up around the room, halfway to the ceiling, all as if in a nightclub. Then our friend goes into a little cubbyhole type place to stand behind a desk. I have the guitar plugged directly into that desk and he flips a switch, and with that I’m playing through a different speaker. This makes it really easy to identify the one we want. We’re now also talking far more sensible and logical prices than what we began with. And we’re looking at sensible weights too; we can’t go too big or heavy because, we explain, we have to be able to put it on a trolley, along with microphone stands and stuff, and walk around with it, sometimes for considerable distances. More than that, we have to know we’ll be able to pick the whole thing up and carry it up and down stairs, much like I have so many times with gigs around London so I know exactly how this on foot transit thing is supposed to work. While we’re talking about stands, we have a little chat here and decide that yes, we will also buy a stand for the speaker rather than try to find a suitable stool or table for it each time. Besides, such things aren’t always available, and a stand is so much more professional and practical anyway. 

So, great. Now here we are and practically set up. Guitar, case, and speaker with stand. All we need to finish the job is the aforementioned trolley. No idea where to go to buy one of those, but that can be a mini project for tomorrow. But then, just as we’re about to pay for all this stuff on the ground floor, I see exactly what we’re looking for. They have a whole bunch of little lightweight collapsible trolleys down here. Now we have something to put the speaker on to take it ‘home’ as well. Perfect. That really is job done. 

Maja:

I find it quite cool that we’ve managed to buy everything at once. And it was quite impressive how the sound guy at the PA department slowly started to realise that he was dealing with professionals who actually knew what they wanted. I don’t really believe that you should have to prove that you really know your stuff before you’re properly attended to at a store, but it was very cool that, once we did, to see how the attitude towards us changed. 

The Berlin Diary, Day two

Friday December 3

Maja:

We need to test the gear that we just bought so we’re setting up in the function room. The function room is a big hall that once upon a time used to be used as a breakfast buffet. On the blackboard behind the deserted bar desk you can read “OPERA breakfast buffet all you can eat €7,5.” There are a lot of tables scattered around the place with the chairs upside down on them. On one side next to the window there’s an art exhibition with paintings of bottle-like objects. We’ve been told that we can use this hall as a rehearsal space, but it is also used as an office by a guy sitting in the corner with a computer. We ask him if he’s OK with us rehearsing here, which he is, before we set up our equipment. We need to check that the new PA is working, so out of the box it goes. And up on the PA stand. And we plug it in the power jack. And it doesn’t come on. Aww come on. Really? We just bought this thing. Can’t you just turn on? It can’t be true. 

As Mark frantically tries to turn it on in different ways, I go behind the bar to try to find a different socket. Yes there’s one here. ‘Mark, let’s try this one instead!’ Mark carries the PA to the bar desk and we plug it in. The light goes on. Yes. Crisis averted. So now we can finally actually start with what we need to do. We find a little better placed socket and start setting everything up. Mixing desk, two microphones, PA, guitar, mic stands and our little mashed up music stand. Everything goes up and that’s great. I’m really not that used to using the mixing desk yet, so Mark shows me what goes where and we try to get our sound together. It’s hard to get something that sounds decent. I think it’s because of the enormous empty hall we’re in. It has an incredible echo to it. It’s just so loud. And it is hard to hear myself, even standing slightly directed towards the PA since the delayed echo keeps coming at me drowning out every single sound I make. But in some songs it is actually quite cool hearing myself like this, with a ton of natural reverb. Like in the song Freefall. That song really feels good to perform like this. So as soon as we’re done we pack our equipment tightly on the trolley, and we have a large backpack with the cables and mixing desk and the guitar case can also be carried on the back. So when I have the guitar case on my back, and Mark has the backpack and trolley we can carry our whole gig setup. It’s light, but it is still a decent gig setup that we think is going to be decent enough for a pub with maybe 70 visitors. It’s perfect for us. With this, we can walk to most venues and just set up and play. Now we just need to find somewhere to play. But first, let’s sort out the parking.

We extended the parking yesterday at the hostel, but now I feel we have time to actually find out how to park around here. We get in the car, drive across the bridge into Kreutzberg and almost immediately find a free parking space about 10 minutes’ walk from the hostel. Problem solved. Now we can return our focus to the gigs.

Mark:

Ten minutes’ walk away. Are you kidding me? Damn, my legs are angry at me right now. I really fear they might not talk to me for the rest of the day.

Maja:

We have a gig on the 19th already booked at Artliners in Friedrichshain, so we decide that we want to go there to say hello to Yvonne who booked us and maybe on the way we’ll find some venues that seem promising that we can go in and hustle for a gig. Basically, convince them to let us play. We set out on our walk in the cold. I think it’s touching zero degrees outside, it’s really not that comfortable and it’s very wet. Quite yucky to be honest. It’s not the weather where one would enjoy a nice little walk outside. But I think that is in our favour. Only serious people go out when it’s not nice outside. Only the real rock stars would venture out in this.

We see a sign that is green and to me it looks like a sign belonging to a nice pub, so we decide to go in and try our luck. ‘Mark, let’s not go here, it doesn’t look right,’ I carefully say after we get a little bit closer. We start to see that under the sign is an entryway to a garden of sorts. ‘No, if we don’t dare to enter a place, we’re going to get nowhere,’ Mark insists. ‘Uhm, that’s not it Mark. I don’t think this is what you think it is.’ I continue to insist. We go in anyway. We get in the little garden, have a look around and realise this isn’t a pub. It’s a school. We laugh and continue along.

We go into a couple of more venues on our way to Artliners. A couple are not very encouraging, but there’s two that actually are. One of these is the third that we walk into, a venue called Fargo and the owner there seems very stressed but also very interested in us and asks us to come back early next week, since he is leaving for Hamburg during the weekend. The other interesting one is called Zumt Und Zunder. When we enter there, we’re told that the manager would probably be interested, but she won’t be there until a coup+le of hours later. Perfect. We’ll be back. To both of these places. 

When we finally reach Artliners we realise it’s a venue for musicians, complete with stage, but it’s full and Yvonne isn’t there right now, so we decide to come back later and go get some food first. What that really means is that we’ll go hustle a little bit more before eating and then getting back to chat to Yvonne. Perfect plan, right? We laugh as we go down the cold street, and a heavy metal bar catches our eyes. That looks nice, doesn’t it? It’s a bit different from our music style, so I feel like I don’t really want to go in. But I see Mark light up. If you don’t ask, you’re making it a no already. I can’t argue with that. That’s the mentality to have and it will become something of a catchphrase in the coming days. I think Mark looks cool as, guitar on back, he opens up the doors to the venue. It’s a very heavy metal bar. Skulls everywhere and you hear bands that would probably be called something like “I will kill your children” or “Eat dogs screaming” or something horrible like that. I know my metal, but not to this extent. I’m not really sure how a place fitting for the band “Eat dogs screaming” would like a pretty little song like “All kinds of wonderful.” Well, it’s hit or miss, but to hit, you need to at least swing. The lady at the door is adamant that she won’t even let us even ask a question before we’ve shown her our vaccination passports. And left our contact information. we’d be done in the time it takes for us to check in there, but it is calm so we don’t have to stress that much about taking up her time from other customers. The conversation goes like this: 

‘Hello, we’d love to play here.’

‘No, we can’t have any live music here because of our neighbours.’

Here we think, fair enough, time to leave.

‘Thank you very much for your time.’

‘Wait a minute.’

‘OK?’

‘There’s this bar nearby called Bretterbude, they can have music.’

‘Oh, thank you very much.’

‘It’s just down the road in that direction, and then a right turn at the intersection.’

‘Great. We’ll go there and ask. Thank you very much.’

‘Good luck.’

And now we have a little lead. Somewhere to ask that has music. Great. We thank her and leave the venue with a new bounce in our steps. 

A couple of minutes’ walk and confusion later we manage to locate the venue. It’s pretty much the same feeling. To me it feels like we never even left the first place. We don’t take any time to hesitate but open the door and walk right in. And it is the same procedure as everywhere; vaccination passports and contact info and we ask the lady checking the information who the manager is. Turns out that she is, and she is called Ileana but she doesn’t speak English very well so a nice lad, Robert, sitting at the bar, helps with translation. Great.

‘Hello, nice to meet you Ileana. We’re a rock-pop duo and we’d like to play here.’

And then Ileana and Robert talk a bit in German. 

‘You can come and play here at 10 pm.’ 

‘Great, tonight?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Awesome. Thanks a lot. We’ll see you then.’ And then it feels appropriate to leave, so we leave without even getting a proper look at the place. We bounce down the street in pure joy, singing, ‘we’re playing a gig tonight.’ As reality starts to hit we realise we’ve barely performed any of the songs and we’ll need a strong and hard setlist to satisfy that crowd. So we go for dinner at a fast food-like schnitzel place next to the hostel, and as we eat we write down the setlist on the receipt. Which we forget and leave at the table. Of course we do. But the job is done and we somewhat remember what it is as I put my lyric sheets in the right order; we’ve barely been able to rehearse some of the songs, and everything has been done during such a short and intense period, so I haven’t had the opportunity to remember all of the lyrics. As we get to the hostel room, I get into the shower. We have time, so I put our newest song, Insanity, on the speakers to give myself at least a chance to internalise the song. I sit down on the shower floor, feeling the warm water heat up my body as I focus on the one track demo I have on the speakers. This is what we call the one-microphone guitar and voice demos that Mark often performs and records to help us remember the songs. They’re a great tool for us, but they’re nothing that we’re going to make public. It’s the songs in their infancy, which is everything that exists right now for most of them and exactly what we need. And it’s wonderful sitting here in here in the shower, listening, singing along and mentally preparing to go up on stage. For the first time here in Germany, Mark comes and joins me in the shower and sits down next to me. It’s a quite big shower, and we let the water wash away the cold and nervousness. We don’t have time for stage fright. Tonight is going to be hard. It’s going to be a collection of upbeat songs, and we’re going to have to be really confident doing it. As always actually. Time flies and we get ourselves ready. Stage clothes on, bags packed and we’re off once again. To our first gig in Berlin.

Our first gig in Berlin. Our first gig on our European tour. Our first gig since our debut at The Trap back home in Ireland. After our first day of hustling for gigs. Today. Right now.

We reach the bar around 10pm. It’s full with people sitting at tables everywhere drinking and talking, and we stand in the middle of the floor confusingly looking around the place. Not one table is open. And no space is empty. Mark slips in and says hello to Ileana. And he comes back and says: ‘We’re playing over here.’ And signals with his arm towards the area in front of the bar. ‘Wait what, there’s no space there.’ Mark looks as perplexed as I feel. This is just impossible. There’s no space there for us. 

Mark:

What Maja’s just described me as doing is exactly what Ileana did, although she did it a lot more off handedly. Almost as an afterthought, which is exactly what I suspect it was. She was caught, stumped for a second, then casually swept her hand across the room. ‘You can play there.’ There? There? I didn’t say anything, but yeah. Again. What Maja said. 

Maja:

OK, so let me describe how it looks in this bar. Imagine a rectangular room. You enter the room on the long side of the room. On your left you have a bunch of tables, and on the right you have a bar and a bunch of tables. Left of the bar, there is a room with a pool table and toilets, and of course even more tables. There’s not that many people in that room. The bar is on the right short side of the long room, as I said before and in front of the bar there is a little bar table for two, where Robert and one other guy sits, and on the right side of the bar, next to the entryway there is also a little table, I think it sits four to five people there. There are also tables in the middle of the room, so the floor really isn’t an open space. 

So when you hear this description, you might understand the sheer feeling of impossibility we have when we hear that we’re supposed to set up right in front of the table in front of the bar. In the little pathway that you would use to go from the front room to the back room in this venue. There’s no space. 

Mark:

I’ve got to a lot of gigs with bands and we’ve seen the space we’re expected to set up in and we’ve thought, ‘how?’ But this is the first time I’ve ever been confronted with such a thing and thought, ‘This is impossible. Not going to happen.’ Yep. I really think this one isn’t going to happen.

Maja:

Oh well. We start off with finding where the electricity is. There’s a power socket at the entry side of the bar. Great. That means that we can plug in the PA and mixing desk over there. Mic stands up, mixing desk rudely on the table as we have to ask them to move their drinks to make space for us. We also have to ask Robert to move so we’re able to navigate the leads behind his chair. Yes, it’s that crowded and crammed that we actually have to pass leads around a punter, who is very accommodating and cool about it, but still. Despite all this, everything goes smoother than we might have thought, and before we even realise it, we’re ready. Mark goes around the bar giving cards to people, and I stand in the middle of the floor for a little while just observing the room and the people inside of it. Straight behind me sits Robert, and behind him is the bar. Mark is going to be on my right and there’s the table of four or five people to my left. Also to my left is the speaker up on its stand, and behind me is the mixing desk. In front of me are more people, many of them sitting in big groups around big tables, slightly elevated. In the backroom there is a group with Swedish rockers. I chatted with them a little bit before and they expressed excitement about seeing us. Cool. Really cool. The bar is buzzing and it is time for us to start. Mark comes back, we do a minor soundcheck, and we’re ready. 

Mark:

Yeah. That going round and giving cards thing. A really useful exercise. It’s of course good for telling people who we are and what we’re about to do, but here it also allows me to gauge some kind of reaction from people who have come out to a metal bar and are about to be regaled by a pop duo with a single acoustic guitar. Metal fans actually tend to be quite broad in their musical tastes and you’ll find more ABBA fans, or admirers, than the international metal community would ever admit to. Even to each other. So as I go round and tell people what we’re about, there’s a lot of genuine interest, especially when I tell them we live in Ireland, are on our European tour and that this will be the first gig of the venture.

Maja:

We’re on. We start right off with ‘Smile Is Going Round’, then off to ‘I Like You (Better When You’re Naked)’, and then we introduce ourselves. ‘Hello we’re The Diaries, we’re from Ireland and this is our first show of our European tour!’ I’m not quite sure we’re from Ireland, but that’s our base so it’ll have to do. You got to say something. I think we get quite the response from the audience. People watch us, and some are really getting into it. The rest of the show just rolls on. Song after song, and some get more reaction than others. Two songs from the end the bar manager tells us we have one more song, so we finish with ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Tree’. Applause and we thank everyone. As soon as we finish, the guys at table to our left gives us two shots they’d bought during the show in preparation for this moment, and praises our attitude and courage playing a place like this. The shots are black, and I’m not sure what they contain. Cheers, and we down them. They’re spicy and half of mine goes on my white shirt. It feels fitting getting a little bit dirty after a gig like this. We’re walking around the place taking down our gear feeling like rock stars. Everyone is talking to us, and we get a lot of praise for being gutsy and courageous and for what we’re being told is our punk attitude. It feels really cool.

Mark:

Punk attitude. I never thought about that. But yeah. Really cool to be thought of like that being, as we are, basically a pop act, albeit with what we would like to think of as something of an edge. Then, when I’m in the toilets a little while later, I’m spoken to by a guy wearing one of those T-shirts with a band name that’s impossible to read. I’m sure you know the look. And the kind of sounds those particular bands make. He introduces himself as Julian and says he really admires our attitude. ‘You guys have a lot of balls coming in here, setting up and doing what you’ve just done.’ Well, thankyou very much. 

Maja:

It’s amazing to be getting the responses we are in here. A lady who doesn’t speak English gives us a fiver and says something along the lines of ‘really cool played, but you’re not quite loud enough for a venue like this.’ Ouch. But fair play, we’re really not a heavy metal band. But you know what? It was really cool to start off playing in a heavy metal bar. 

Mark:

I was told that Maja’s first gig in The Trap, essentially a cover bar band in our small town of Clara, was a baptism of fire. Fine. Yes it was. But then to go from that to a heavy metal bar in Berlin? That’s out of the frying pan into a bigger frying pan. And she’s come through again. Well, we both have.

Maja:

After packing up, we have a beer each on the house and sit around talking to people. Then we thank Ileana and the barman and the others, and leave. We’re bubbling with energy, and Mark wants to go back to the other heavy metal bar and thank the lady there for her recommendation of this venue. So we go back that direction and see her standing in the entryway of the venue having a smoke. Great. We don’t have to go in and search. We go up to her, thank her for the heads up, and then we have a lovely moment when we’re able to tell her that we’ve now already played there. She is absolutely surprised and delighted. Great. Thank you. And off we go to drop by Artliners in search of Yvonne. She’s been and gone. Oh well, it can’t be helped. We went and found and played a gig in the meantime, she’ll understand. So then we go for our last stop of the night, Zumt Und Zunder. Perfect. It’s an artsy bar, and we go into it and take a seat. I stay there as Mark goes to the bar to buy us beer. I sit down and write a message to my brother, ‘We’ve just played a gig, and now it is time for us to start searching for the next one.’ I hit send and look up from my phone. Mark is standing in front of me holding two beers.

Mark:

I was waiting for her to finish whatever she was doing on the phone and look up. Now I have her attention, I say, ‘We’re playing here tomorrow at 8 pm. I just spoke to the manager.’

Maja:

Oh. My. God. 

That was quick. In complete surprise I write to my brother ‘Scrap that, we just got a gig here for tomorrow at 8 pm.’ Crazy. So we sit down, and enjoy our beers while discussing the gig we’ve just done and the one we’re going to play right here tomorrow. The feeling is wonderful, it’s just amazing.

When we’re ready for home, we walk through the freezing Berlin streets. Tired and very happy, we reach our hostel room ready to sleep. We open the door and start unloading our gear into the small entryway of the room. Then Mark says, ‘Where did this come from?’ He’s pointing to a backpack. Oh. ‘Mark, we have a roommate.’ The shock is immense. I mean, it’s fine getting a roommate, we live in a shared four bedroom dorm afterall, but I sincerely did not think that they would put another person in our room especially during covid. And in our hurry to get out for the gig, we’d left the place in a mess. Whoever it is isn’t here right now so we frantically and start to tidy up so that our new roommate will have space for their things in the morning. With all of our gear we’re taking up a lot of space in the room. With the room cleared up and us a bit nervous about who the new person could be we go to bed, maybe at 2am. He comes in about 4am and as he does I slightly wake up and check the time. I’ll say hello to him in the morning. Good night. 

Mark:

We’ve done it. We’ve proved we can come to a city, where we know nobody, with no leads, and just go out onto the street and get gigs. And we’ve already played one of them and had a positive reaction. At a heavy metal bar of all places. Corona and all its attendant restrictions may yet close in around us and end this whole tour thing. But what it can’t do now is end it before it’s begun. We got there first. Berlin, we are here.

The Berlin Diary, Day three

Saturday December 4

Maja:

‘Good morning.’ We say as our new roommate starts to wake up. His name is Didier and he soon proves to be the most chill person and perfect roommate and actually a really good friend. He shows a lot of interest in us, and we talk about our music and sing a little bit for him as he gets more and more dragged into the story. When we tell him about our gig tonight, he actually says that he’ll be there. Which is amazing. That will make him the first person ever to have actively turned up to one of our gigs. Thank you very much. 

Mark:

A lot of my nervous energy before we arrived here was tied up in thinking if this thing was even possible. Could we just turn up in a city, walk round and hustle venues that didn’t actually have bands regularly, or even at all? Well, the answer now is very much yes. Two gigs booked, one played and one to come tonight. Wow. And against all the stress and general busy times in getting here in the first place. I think we settle into the rest of the relieved, with a lot of pressure taken off. And with a hell of a lot done too to be fair. So today is definitely time to chill and that’s what we do. Just take it easy and get out for tonight’s gig when we’re ready.

We do that, but also decide to try to get some hustling done on the way. It’s fair to say that doesn’t go very well and is a little frustrating. But really, however early it may be, it is still Saturday night and bar managers aren’t around to talk to so we pull out of this idea and agree that Saturday is not a day for gig hustling. 

Instead we go get a pizza and then make it down to tonight’s venue, Zumt Und Zunder. All is quiet when we arrive but we’re assured it will get busy. Which is quite cool actually as it means we’re able to set up and soundcheck in private. This can often be a mildly delicate process, especially in a new venue as you set your sound levels and the management says you’re too loud and should turn down. But that’s fine. Turn down we do, to everyone’s satisfaction and declare ourselves ready. This place is split into three rooms with open entryways between them. We’re in the corner of the middle part with a large table in front of us, two or three other smaller tables, then the games room in the room ahead of us and to our left the main bar area. 

Just as we finish soundcheck, Didier, our room mate from the hostel, turns up. Cool. He is now the first person to ever come out and go to a venue deliberately just to see us. He settles down with a friend and we join them for a while before showtime, sitting at a table a few metres from the front of our area.

By the time we start, the large table has been taken up by one big group and as soon as we’re into the first song, it’s clear we’re too loud for them as they instantly stop talking and begin to play mime at each other. We instantly clock this and turn down. Then they start talking again and I feel a bit relieved at that. It would have been an absolute disaster if they’d left and we’d been seen to cost the bar such a big table. Not long after this, we’re asked to turn down again. Oh dear. It is starting to look like we’re a bit too up and energetic for this place. Did they really just want background music? We have a few more gentle songs in our setlist so we start to pull them out. But through all this, we really do feel a few things start to happen, not least with Insanity, our latest song. For a start, there’s a guy in the games room playing fussball who’s totally forgotten the idea of playing and is transfixed with us. We see that when his friends try to exhort him to play, not only does he refuse, but he gestures towards us and reverses the exhortation to get his friends to leave the game themselves and join him. And off to our left through the bar area, right over at the far end by the main window, a table of three people has totally stopped talking with one of them having turned her back on her friends to face us. They certainly haven’t stopped because we’re too loud because they’re far too far away for that to make a difference.

So on we go with the main table in front chatting away, but even a few of them paying special attention, and with one or two people dotted about the place really here with us. And our little table of two friends. All around, the rest of the place is just carrying on, but we’re just doing our thing. Applause throughout is a touch erratic and there are no huge raptures, but it seems people are just going about their Saturday night. A few seconds after we finish you would think we’d never been there, and the manager is more concerned with us making the area useable again rather than offering any thoughts. OK. We take our gear down and go and join Didier and his friend. Once we’re set up with a few drinks – on the house so cool – I go and speak to the manager who last night was so enthusiastic about us playing tonight. She’s lukewarm on the idea of us coming again and cites toughening Covid restrictions as a reason. Whatever. She’s being perfectly nice but there’s no comment at all on what we’ve just done, merely thoughts that it might not work in the current environment. We conclude she just wanted us to be background music in the corner, out of the way. And we have absolutely no intention of doing that. We part as friends but even without her thoughts, or non-thoughts, we’ve decided this is not going to be a venue for us. But we’re also still learning our equipment, still really getting more familiar with our material and, this is still only our third ever gig, bizarre as that might seem. So, for a learning experience, it’s been great and it’s much better to do your learning in private, such as what works and what doesn’t, what hits and what doesn’t, and really how to position your sound. It’s all been happening here, we were given the opportunity and for that we’re grateful. Once we’re ready to leave, everyone says their polite goodbyes and we head back home. Yes, wherever we happen to be staying, we’re going to be referring to that as going home.

Maja:

It just keeps on getting tougher and tougher. We started off with a cover band venue in Ireland that was incredibly anti any kind of original music, but they still turned out to love us. After that it was a heavy metal bar, and they were mighty impressed with our gutsiness and attitude but we couldn’t quite be big or loud enough. And now we’ve played an artsy venue where we just couldn’t be small or quiet enough. That feels the hardest one to me. Before this we’ve been expected to be more and more and actually take a venue by surprise. To be ourselves and be big and have a lot to offer. But tonight we were expected to tone down. That’s just not us. It wasn’t a pleasant experience to get that kind of feedback, or non-feedback. It’s like if Nirvana or Red Hot Chili Peppers played there, they would be told the same. Well, I got new gigging experience which is invaluable, but other than that, let’s move on strongly as always. Playing as if to Wembley stadium at every venue we go to. 

The Berlin Diary, day four

Day four

Sunday December 5

Maja:

I am making a homesite for our musician friend Alex who we stayed with when we were in London recently, and who Mark has done session work for. He’s helping me with some production tips and tricks to help me be our producer and general sound engineer. It’s a great friend collaboration, where I do my part and he does his and we both get something we want out of it. Kinda like when I first met Mark and built his homesite as he mentored me through a few bass projects. And of course, both me and Ales love helping each other out since we’re friends. I’ve been quite busy recently with preparing for the tour, but we planned a little phone call this morning. Apart from talking about those projects, we also talk a little bit about us playing together in maybe March/April. We’ve not completely worked out in what way we’ll play together yet, but that’ll inevitably mean that me and Mark will take The Diaries to London as a continuation of our European tour. I can’t wait.

Mark:

Oh dear. We go out to get supplied up and maybe bring back something for breakfast, only to discover today that all shops in Berlin are closed on Sundays. We do subsequently learn that a few do open a little later in the day but for now we have no idea of that. All we encounter is locked doors and dark premises. The bizarrest part of all this is when we get to the shopping centre near our hostel and it’s totally open. But when we go in and walk around, we discover everything inside is closed. So it’s off to a cafe to pick up a few sandwiches for breakfast to take back to the hostel kitchen. Once there, we find all our new friends hanging out. Mattheus from Poland, Cintia from Croatia, Katia from Modova, and Didier. We join them and get stuck into our chicken, mozzarella and tomato wraps. Which turn out to contain just mozzarella and a single slice of tomato. Oh well. Someone made a mistake somewhere. They’re still quite good and we’re really too hungry to care. While we’re there, a guy we’ve never met called Eric turns up and is enthusiastically called over by our new friends. He’s from Ireland, seems really cool and gently spoken, and our little nascent crew has now grown a little. The guys ask what we’re up to tonight and we tell them we’ve decided to start having a look at the open mic scene. I used to run an open mic myself, have been to many more, and I know what great networking opportunities they can be. Especially to introduce yourself to a new scene; the general audience, of course, but also other songwriters and musicians you could end up doing stuff with and becoming friends with, and the people themselves who run the things. Open mics can be where so many people, connected to so many facets across a city, come together. Put on a good display and be a good hang at enough of them and you really can start to make inroads into the musical fabric of a place. Apart from anything else, throw yourself around enough and talk to enough people and you start to get to know what’s going on around a place as well. Mondays and Tuesdays are particularly good for them as not much else is going on generally, but Sundays too, and sometimes into Wednesdays. We’ve had an internet look around and have decided on a place called Madame Claude’s tonight. We’ve also identified places to go tomorrow and Tuesday, with all sign up times at 7pm. I did email Madame Claude’s before leaving Ireland but got no reply. Well, an automated reply with some info about the venue, but nothing from an actual person. So now we’re just going to go.

We take it easy for the rest of the day and then later catch up with Cintia, Matheus and Eric in the common room again and tell them our plans. We’re all going to leave around 6:30 but when that time comes they’re not quite ready. They understand that we can’t hang around as we can’t miss sign up, and say that they’ll follow along about ten minutes behind us. Cool. We head off across the river and into the dark side streets of Berlin’s Kreuzberg district. Tourists tramping the beaten path are not going to find a place like this. It belongs to Berliners. And maybe some of your more intrepid explorers. As we approach the address, the darkness of the street does not abate. Closer and closer. No lights, no sound. We even walk past it without realising. Then back again. There it is. Kinda. It looks more like a wall of flyers and posters than the entrance to a venue. But no. Definitely nothing happening here tonight. Oh. We stand there not really knowing what to do. Our friends will be on their way, we think. Or maybe not. Who knows? We have no way of contacting them. We stare at the locked, dark door for probably longer than anyone really should, but the truth is we have no idea of our next move. Then we hear, ‘It’s closed tonight.’ We turn round and see a tall figure silhouetted in the glare of a streetlight. Some kind of maintenance work we believe. ‘I saw you guys probably loitering a bit too much and thought I’d just let you know,’ he continues. OK. ‘I’m going to a gig a little way from here,’ he says somewhat cryptically. He’s not making any sign of moving away. Are we in conversation now? ‘What gig?’ I ask. ‘A friend of mine is in a band opening up for the main act. I’m walking down there now.’ That really does sound like an invitation without being an invitation. I step right into it. ‘As you can see,’ I begin, indicating to the guitar case on my back, ‘we were hoping to play the open mic here tonight but, you know. It would be cool if we could follow along to your thing. If you’re cool with that.’ ‘Yeah cool.’ ‘Great. I’m Mark and this is Maja.’ ‘Joel. Pleased to meet you.’ Introductions done, he sets off and we just fall in step with him. ‘The first thing we have to do,’ he says, ‘is go and get tested. It’s a new thing. You can’t get in anywhere without a negative test first.’ OK. We’re just following his lead. We walk for five minutes or so and come across a locked portakabin type thing. ‘Oh. I was going to do it here,’ he says. ‘I know another place.’ And off we go in a totally different direction. This time, after another ten minutes or so, we come to what looks like a teeny tiny mini tented field hospital with a desk at the open front of it and a medical type of person, who must be freezing by the way, standing behind it. There’s only one person getting tested as we arrive, and no-one waiting. That person is taking a while with their admin or whatever so we wait patiently. Joel says he has to go home and get something he forgot so we carry on here. After a few minutes, we hear from behind us, ‘Are you guys playing somewhere tonight?’ We turn around to see a guy and a girl we have never seen before and the guy is pointing at the guitar on my back. ‘Well, we were.’ I say, and mention the open mic that isn’t happening. ‘We’re out here checking out different bands,’ he says. ‘Well, this is us.’ And I give him our card. ‘Oh!’ he exclaims. ‘You guys are The Diaries? It’s you we were coming out to see tonight.’

‘What now?’ He introduces himself as Liam and his partner as Maddie and I introduce myself and Maja. Liam then says, ‘Yeah, we got talking to those guys over there at the hostel and they said they were coming out to see you and, here we are.’ I look and, sitting ‘over there’ are Cintia, Mattheus and Eric. Oh cool. We’ve managed to find each other out here, when me and Maja had already started wandering all different directions. 

Maja:

I’ve been really anxious about getting separated from our newfound friends coming out to see us play, so I get incredibly relieved as soon as we find them again. And meeting Liam and Maddie is just over the top amazing. 

Mark:

We get ourselves tested and go over and say hi, then announce to them, and our new friends, that the place we were going to is closed, and that we have new plans if they want to come along. Of course they do. When Joel gets back, I introduce everyone to him and he’s only too happy to have a few more tag-alongers. Well, happy is probably too strong a word. Willing would be more like it. As we walk, he and I chat about Berlin and things in general and he says he’s a casual sculpture. Cool. We also talk about the possible lockdowns here and if things are likely to close around us. ‘I think you guys will be fine,’ he says. ‘If you’ve already played and have anything booked in, I’d say it’s all going to continue and you’ll probably be able to play a little more.’ This is really great to hear from an actual Berliner that we should more or less be able to continue as we are, at least for the period we intend to be here for, and as long as we continue with the testing thing anytime we intend to go anywhere. Yes, it’s only one person’s view and things could change but hey, we’ve already played two shows and proved we can come here, sight unseen and make things happen. If it all closes down tomorrow, we’ll take that.

It’s quite a long walk to wherever this venue is and full of twists and turns as we feel we’re being taken deeper and deeper into local knowledge Berlin. Past a whole bunch of traffic works and onto yet another dark street. Nothing happening here. We keep walking. Then, he announces we’re here. It’s a large, graffiti covered door that you could easily walk past. But he goes through it and we follow. First, there’s still nothing. Just a thick curtain. But the boom bass of music is evident. Through the curtain and we enter what looks like a pirate ship room with soft chairs scattered all about, all filled with people huddled round in circles in casual conversation. Across the room to the right is the bar, and directly ahead of us is another large curtain, from behind which the music is clearly coming. The attendant does the corona check thing and invites me to leave the guitar in a safe space behind her. Cool. Then she says that the band we’ve essentially come to see are only on their first song. Brilliant. And we’re in. Across the room and through the large curtain. Into…a real gig venue. Totally full and packed. Of course. Everyone’s been tested tonight and been given a negative result. So the venue can be safe that everyone’s fine. No masks and no social distancing. This feels. Well, normal. Or rather, not normal at all because, for me at least, I haven’t been to a gig venue where people can pack in like this for almost two years. In fact, I can actually tell you the last time. It was The Blues Kitchen in Camden, Sunday March 8, 2020. Shortly after, March 20 to be exact, bars in the UK were ordered to close by the government, and since then they’ve only been able to operate – when they’ve been able to open – under social distancing rules, to various levels of strictness, but there’s certainly been no bands playing with audiences all rubbing shoulders with each other. So yeah, this is the first time I’ve seen or experienced anything like this for almost two years. Did I say it looks like normal? Well no, it doesn’t look like normal. Because for all that time, this has ceased to be a thing. And now, it’s wonderful to see and to be a part of.

Maja:

Well lucky you. I haven’t been to a proper gig venue since… Well I don’t really know. When I was a teenager following the ‘big bands’ around as a little fangirl. Maybe 2008, who remembers exactly? Or I actually went to a little gig in Japan because I really wanted to see ‘Sore Demo Sekai Ga Tsuzuku Nara’, that was maybe 2015, but the feeling of that was nowhere like this. This is more, to the miniscule experience I’ve had, like the gigs I went to in Sweden. Where people actually headbang and the musicians scream/shout/sing their hearts out. It feels great. And I can’t help bouncing around to the German metal we have here and now that really moves the room. 

The band is called No Romance, Joel’s friend is on bass, and Loophole describes them as one of their favourites. You can check them out yourself here: https://noromancepls.bandcamp.com/

Mark:

For all this up to now, Joel has left us to go and hang out with someone he’s come here to specifically meet and we all hang at the back and take it all in, totally disbelieving at the turn the evening has taken from what was supposed to be a gentle singer-songwriter night somewhere in the vicinity of our neighbourhood. 

They finish and our guys are on me and Maja. ‘Hey,’ says Cintia. ‘Why don’t you try to play in this period now between the two bands? It’s only the two of you. It shouldn’t be too hard.’ I’m really not sure but they all become quite insistent, especially Liam and Maddie, who we will learn are huge live music fans and regular gig goers with a really good knowledge of venues and music scenes all across America. They manage to persuade me to at least try and I head off into the lobby area to see who I should talk to. First stop is the attendant at the door to try to find out who the promoter is. She points me towards a tall guy wearing a slightly floppy hat. I go over and introduce myself to him. He’s warm and welcoming and brightens up even more when I tell him I’m with a band on tour here and give him a card. This is when Maja turns up to hear him say, ‘There’s something I’ve got to take care of right now. Let me go and do that because I want to give you a real minute or two.’ Fair enough and quite brilliant. He runs down some mysterious stairs, then returns and says, ‘I’m all yours.’ He now introduces himself as Mikey from America. I introduce him to Maja, briefly tell him who we are and what we’ve been doing, and then say, I know it’s a cheeky ask, but would we be able to play a song or two right now in the break. He very politely and reasonably says that won’t be possible because the schedule tonight is too tight, but he gives me his email address and says to get in touch with our links and stuff and he’ll gladly see if he could arrange a slot for us in here sometime in the near future. Wow. Contact and brief, impromptu meeting with an actual Berlin promoter who’s clearly really got things going on. This is beginning to feel like deep infiltration into the scene on only our third real day exploring it. With that, we thank him very much for his time and let him go about his busy evening while we go and return to our friends. 

They’ve all piled out into the bar area and we tell them what’s just happened, then me and Maja chat a little more to Liam and Maddie who we didn’t get to talk to much on the way here. 

Maja:

Liam and Maddie are a couple from America and they have a lot of friends and contacts in the music scene in America. They live on the road with a campervan, so they often change locations. And they’re really excited about inviting us over, maybe to stay with them in their van for a while, but also helping us get in contact with some of their friends to organise gigs. Which is absolutely wonderful and beyond helpful in every way. We’re completely blown back by their open-heartedness and kindness and their engagement and positivity towards what we’re doing. I’m finding it hard to put the excitement and gratefulness we feel to words on a paper. Words just don’t do the feelings justice. It’s a bit sad that we won’t be able to play live for them while they’re here though. They really seem to want to see us play. I wonder if we’ll be able to fix that in any way?

Mark:

Like Mikey, they’re also from America and become particularly interested in our story. As it unfolds, they love it more and more and start to open up to us about their contacts in America. Without having heard us play, they’re happy to take us seriously purely by the fact that we’re out here and doing it. They tell us about venues they know across the States who they could introduce us to and where they could possibly plug us in. New York, LA, Nashville, and a few more places in between. They want to talk seriously to us sometime about how they could help us to really get across the venues if we want to go to America. Then, when they tell us they’re leaving Berlin tomorrow, we realise they really should at least have a real idea of what we are, so we offer to play a song or two for them when we get back tonight. They love that idea and so do the other guys. We also make sure to reciprocate their invitation, telling them they’re welcome to come and visit us in Ireland anytime. They love the idea of Ireland and of having a place to stay right in the centre of the country in real, out of the way town like Clara.

I leave them for a little while now to go and say hi to our de facto host for the evening Joel. He’s with his friends and this is the first time I’ve had the chance to really chat to him since we arrived. I really just want to say thankyou very much again for bringing us here and to tell him how much we love the place. And also to tell him that we’ve just hooked up with Mikey. He’s very pleased to hear all this. He introduces me around his little circle a little and tells me that himself and one or two others work at Madame Claudes and that we should pop in sometime and say hello. Wow. Another hit. We now know the bar staff of one of the cooler venues in town which also looks like it could be a really good place for us to play sometime should an opening become available. At the very least, this could be a great social connection to have. I know this very well from my time working in bars in London – to know the bar staff in a place is to have a shortcut to be able to easily talk to and get to know just about everybody else in there, at least the regulars. It really just makes going into a particular bar a lot more fun as you’re walking in as some kind of known entity, not an anonymous face off the street wondering what you’re doing there as you try to gain some kind of footing.

Maja:

Opening up the thick curtains to the stage room, and I once again get blown back with heavy metal screaming through the speakers. It’s an experience in itself just to be here. The music is pumping and I really like this one song that the second band, Groa, does when the singer starts playing drums with the drummer and then the bassist and singer go into the audience singing and dancing really intently with each other. I have no idea what the song is about but the feeling is incredible. It’s been a while since I’ve experienced music like this, and the metal lover in my heart is getting fed some really nice metal vibes. 

You can check Groa out here: 

https://post-dreifing.bandcamp.com/album/what-i-like-to-do-3

Mark:

Totally exhilarated, spent and all very happy, it’s time to head out and start the walk back to the hostel and the seven of us all set off together through the newly falling snow which greatly helps to cool us down after the white hot intensity of what we’ve just experienced. Myself and Liam slightly fall back from the main group and start to chat about the basics of playing. Which means – the two of us in unison – ‘You have to be on the ground.’ ‘Yes, totally,’ he says. We now enter full flow of one of my favourite topics related to this; that you can sit at home and record and Youtube and social media and stream all you want. But if you’re not getting out and playing live, or going to gigs and meeting people, you won’t make the real world connections where people can really see you, talk to you, get to know you, and decide whether or not you’re someone they really want to help either directly or by making introductions or recommendations. He continues, ‘Getting out there and really doing it is exactly what you guys are doing and it’s really cool to see.’ Absolutely fair enough. He adds: ‘We will hear you play tonight and that’s great, but I don’t think we even need to. We can just see it in you and feel your energy and attitudes and we just know you have something to say that’s going to be worth hearing. We have a really strong feeling that we’re totally going to love your music.’ Whether it all materialises or not, his and Maddie’s willingness to open doors for us in America has only come about because we’re out here and doing it from Ireland. If they were just meeting a local band, and had even just seen them play, no matter how much they liked them and their music, it’s highly unlikely they’d be talking about Stateside possibilities. But with us, they can see someone who has already made the leap, and so can be confident we would have no problem making more.

On that thing materialising or not, in the early days of Mark’s Diaries I wrote about every such conversation and possibility and time and time again nothing was ever heard from such utterances again, so I totally stopped writing about them, only returning to those subjects if and when things did start to come about. Then I could write about where those ideas came from and when the conversations first started. But right now, in the first days of our tour and, by definition, our first days in Berlin, I think it’s really cool that these kinds of conversations are even happening.

We return to the hostel well supplied with beers via an outdoor tabletop burger/kebab visit and all seven of us head up to the cavernous function room on the third floor. It’s now approaching 3am so we can in no way be loud. We set ourselves up, the guys in a small semi circle around us, looking on expectantly. Me and Maja have already decided what songs we’re going to do, and what songs could have the most impact in such a quiet setting. We’ve decided we could do a chilled out version of I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) and the new song, Insanity. The quietness and gentle natural reverb provided by this vast hall lend a new epic quality to the songs and everyone listens in complete captivated silence, not least Liam who looks totally, totally immersed in what he’s hearing. When we finish, it’s not quite to applause because, well, it’s late, but Liam and Maddie come over with huge hugs and fist bumps. Liam in particular looks stunned. ‘I had every confidence in you guys,’ he begins, ‘But this really is something special. Yes, we really hope we’ll be able to do something for you two.’ Brilliant. Just brilliant. With that, they say they have to excuse themselves as they’re up and out first thing in the morning. We have a big goodbye with them and the rest of us hang out a little longer. Here, Eric has a little suggestion and a request. Why don’t we set up and do a full rehearsal up here tomorrow that they and anyone else could come to? What a wonderful idea. We immediately agree, and come up with a rough time of 2pm. With that new plan in place, it’s time for us all to head off to bed now.

When we get back to our room, the light is out but Didier is awake in his top bunk and deep in conversation with someone in the other top bunk. As soon as we enter the room, both of them say an enthusiastic hi and we suddenly realise who the other person is. It’s Katia. Of all the rooms. We now have the two coolest room mates we could possibly wish for, although we’re a little disappointed when we discover that Katia is only here for this one night.

Maja:

Oh yay! Katia! I’m so happy she is here, I’ve really wanted to get to know her better and I really like her! Hello Katia!!!

Mark:

We ask if we can turn the light on to get ourselves sorted out, and they say, please do. They then ask how it all went and we really don’t know where to begin. ‘You guys are tired I’m sure,’ I say. ‘Let’s wait and we’ll tell you in the morning.’ ‘No, tell us now,’ Didier insists. Katia voices her agreement. They both really want to hear. What happened that we went out to an open mic at 6:30 that kept us out till way past 3am?

Well…

Day three of our European tour and we’ve been offered a bunch of potential dates in London, which could then be followed by America as we’ve spoken to some people who’ve said they could really get us started with a toe hold there. We’ve made personal contact with a promoter in Berlin and we’ve hung out with some of the bar staff of a venue that we’d already identified as a great place to get known and play at.

To that you can add that we have a very positive lead with Lenny at Fargo who we’ll be going to see in the next few days to hopefully arrange something, and we have two more open mics identified. One tomorrow and one Tuesday. Oh, and we’re going to be doing an open rehearsal for anyone who wants to come tomorrow on the third floor.

The Berlin Diary, day five

Day five 

Monday December 6

Maja:

Why did we tell our friends that we would play for them at such an inhumanly early time as 2pm? Why? This is what I’m trying to get my head round as we both attempt to wake up at noon. We finally manage to crawl out of bed and into the shower at around 1pm, and I am in no way fit for any kind of performance. I am exhausted. My voice seems to have found a comfortable spot somewhere around the bottom of my endlessly crammed suitcase, and it certainly does not want to find its way back to me. I’m slightly out of it as I stand letting the hot water scald my shoulders in the hope that the heat will somehow wake me up. Disappointingly, it doesn’t seem to work. But I have made a promise, and there’s no way I’m not keeping it. Promises are meant to be kept, and I just need some clothes, along with some concealer to hide the big dark bags under my eyes. Mark has already started moving the gear up to the function room, setting up for us. When I emerge, Cintia and Mattheus are waiting for us. Eric is nowhere to be seen, but there’s no point waiting around since we don’t know when or if he’ll be here. Cintia is working, using the function room as an office, with her computer and advanced looking house plans scattered all over a big table. She works as an architect, and I am sure she’s a brilliant one judging from the professionalism and dedication she is showing. She knew she’d be working during the time we planned this, but was very clear last night that she wanted us to come and do this and that she wanted to be a part of it.

So I guess that we’re going to be a little bit of an entertainment break and perhaps background music while she works. Great. And Matteus is a fellow musician; he is currently busking around Europe with his saxophone. Both of them are very eager to hear us play, which they’re going to. But today we will also be using it as a little rehearsal, since we’ve barely been able to rehearse anything since our arrival in Berlin. Great. They help us film, which is really cool, and we go through a lot of our songs playing them as if it was a set, although we allow ourselves to restart songs a few times so that we can hopefully record a better performance video. But there is something that is bothering me. It’s holding me back. Incredibly so. And that is the sound of the function hall. It is so empty that the amplified sound bounces all over the room, and I hear myself as echoed and probably distorted from all directions, making me completely lose control my own sound. It feels awful, and no adjustments I am able to make help with this problem. After trying to adjust everything I can there’s nothing else to do but to give up. Balls. 

This is as good as it gets. I’ll just have to do it anyway. So I sing, and we manage to fight ourselves through tiredness and echo, performing and practising most of the songs in our set. After about an hour I’m so tired I can barely stand up. So we end there, and I get to chat with Cintia, Matteus and Eric, who managed to arrive in time to catch half of the show. They seem to have appreciated it all, and the song ‘I Like You (Better When You’re Naked)’ seems to have stuck in all three of their brains. It’s quite incredible that they like the songs enough to really remember them, or at least one of the songs.

It’s really nice sitting and chatting with them for a little while, but I am way too tired to be any kind of company, so I soon excuse myself and go back to bed. I’m good for nothing today. Mark is kind enough to take care of the teardown and pack up of the gear as I intend to spend the rest of the day sleeping. I did the rehearsal/mini show today, and I’m incredibly proud of myself for having done that, but now I need to repair a little bit from these intense last couple of days. 

And how did the recordings turn out, you wonder. They were all just noise. The echo made them completely useless. Oh well, we tried. Now we’ll rest and hope to get something decent recorded soon enough. Good night. Tomorrow is a new day, and I’d like to be my usual bright self for any performance that just might happen.

Mark:

It really can’t be any surprise that events have caught up with us today. A week ago Maja was in Sweden and I was in Ireland. With that, we had our individual preparations to finish then we both left our respective starting points on Tuesday, Maja’s epic journey continuing deep into Wednesday, the same day I had my mad walk of around 20 kilometres. Then Thursday was the walk out to buy our gear and walk back, with the weekend then beginning taking in Friday’s hustle and gig followed by Saturday’s gig then the big night last night. Is it any wonder at all that we’re finding it hard to even move today?

Almost as soon as we’re ‘awake’ which is somewhere around 11, we decide there’s no way we’re doing the open mic tonight. 

Once we are up and upstairs to meet the guys, we encounter rumour again, which is soon confirmed. After our little brush with pre-pandemic world yesterday, it’s back to reality today as we discover that Berlin is to ban dancing in nightclubs from Wednesday. Despite the encouraging words we heard last night, Corona and its attendant restrictions may yet close in around us in Berlin and end our plans.

The Berlin Diary, day six

Day six

Tuesday December 7

Mark:

We’re all hanging out in the canteen this morning when Katia announces she may have a temporary room coming up in her apartment covering Christmas and the new year. If this could be more or less immediate, and dates aren’t fully clear yet, this could be something for us and we quickly let her know that we’re interested. She says she’ll keep us up to date as things develop. If the dates do work, the plan could be to take the place and keep it until the first week or so of January which would encompass our trip to England to stay with my family for Christmas. We would be looking at returning to Berlin, possibly for December 31, and so New Year’s Eve, and then make plans for whatever’s next. 

Maja:

Today it is time for my first ever open mic. Apparently open mics are a thing, and many people appreciate attending them. Myself, I’ve never really heard of them from anyone other than Mark. Mark is trying to educate me in the ways of the music world. Educating me has become one of his passion projects. I guess that is because I just know whatever I know and not much else. So the next gap of knowledge needed to be filled is open mics. They’re supposed to be great craic, but who am I to tell you? This is my very first time. And the place for tonight is Zum crocodile, a bar in Neukölln. We manage to slip through the doors just about 7 pm catching the start of the show. Mark goes through to the host and puts us on the list, but since the show has already started it seems like we’re going to be on late. Great. Just sit back until then.

Our friend Eric is here too, so the three of us enjoy the show together. There are a lot of musicians that have gathered from all over the place. A girl from Portugal is up quite early. She has a story about how she ran into a window and wrote a song about that. It’s mellow, calm and nice. Like all the songs on the stage tonight. They are mellow, low key, calm and nice. The songs are mild, the performers are using their nice singing voices. The pitches are mostly perfect, no-one makes any big mistakes. But who would make mistakes in that environment? No-one is really trying anything special. It’s just calmly played guitar with calm controlled vocals. Beautiful, but I’ve heard it a thousand times before. Perfect to enjoy with a glass of red wine and then go on to forget about forever. 

Listening to the show and its gentle tones I start to get a strong feeling that maybe we’re just a bit too much. Too loud for this room. So I lean over and whisper to Mark, ‘Maybe we should play some of our quiter songs?’ He looks at me and replies, ‘No way. We go in hard and play bigger than the room as always.’ And then I realise what I’ve just done. I’ve read the room and I started to want to adapt to it. Just like I know that I can never allow myself to do. I need to aim to play bigger than the room. Great that I had Mark to stop me there, stop me from wasting the performance. This is exactly the place where you should play as big as you want, even though no-one else is doing it.

I am starting to feel a little bit stressed, time goes on and on and we’re getting close to 10 pm, which is the ending time for almost all live music in Berlin. They have to stop at 10 pm sharp to avoid noise complaints from neighbours, and we’re getting awfully close now. Then all of a sudden, host Conor announces, ‘And now it’s time for our last act,’ I’m convinced this must be us now, but instead he calls someone else up on stage. My heart drops, and the three of us all look at each other in sheer confusion. Are we not going to be able to play? Mark discretely runs up to Conor to check if we’re still going up, and comes back with a smile. Yes, we’re on, Conor must have said ‘the last acts’ and we heard ‘the last act.’ I’m starting to feel a little bit nervous. I’ve only had half a glass of wine since I prefer not to drink before performing, so I’m clear headed, but I’m also very conscious that I can’t shake this feeling of stress. Mark goes to tune up and comes back all ready to rock. I feel like ‘How in the world will we have time to perform?’ It’s really close to 10pm now. Conor announces that everyone will only have time for one song now, and please no introducing or talking about your song. Get up, play, get off. Another act goes on and then it’s time for us. And I feel stressed. We go on stage, connect the microphone and guitar real quick, and I test the microphone by saying ‘Hello, we’re the diaries on tour from Ireland.’ As I say the words I get interrupted by Conor counting us in. ‘One, two, three, four.’ I feel so stressed. Not nervous, but stressed in a way that feels completely unnatural for me. Mark ignores Conor’s count, pausing to do his own and then we start. But still, my legs shake. I have a hard time singing, my heart is beating so fast it can’t possibly be mine. But I am singing, I know the song and I get the reaction that the song deserves. Complete amazement from everyone. I feel how people look up at me in shock, with the expression spreading over their faces saying ‘Am I hearing this right? Is this really true? She can’t possibly be singing this…’ 

Mark:

Yes, you could say the song has a slightly gimmicky feel with the tag line of I like you better when you’re naked, but the whole place is totally into this from the beginning and they never let go. And those choruses and stops. Well, there are mini explosions from the audience all the way through the song. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this, let alone been a part of it. And when we finish, the reaction is spontaneous and absolutely enormous. Seeing the video later that Eric shot, we can see that we have finally captured what The Diaries are really all about and the effect we can have on an audience. We might have only had one song, but with that four minutes of stage time, we’ve achieved everything here we could have possibly hoped to have achieved. Tonight’s show, short as it was, has been an announcement. In the end, just getting that one song was perfect. 

Maja:

In the middle of the song, Conor, sitting on the stage behind us, explodes in a cheer bouncing his head like crazy, but I don’t even notice. I am too busy performing. By the second half of the song, the stress has reduced and I am able to actually enjoy the performance like I normally do. But it feels like such a waste that I allowed myself to get stressed. A performance takes the time it takes, and there was really no use for me to feel stressed. Even though we were the second to last act with just eight minutes to go. 

Mark:

For all Maja’s talk of stress and nervousness, I was there on stage with her, and saw the video afterwards. No sign of it. No sign at all.

Maja:

When we finish the crowd erupts in huge applause and cheering, and the last act goes on. They get a huge reaction as well, but I can’t help to think that it may have been because we warmed up the crowd for them. No-one is ever going to know that for sure, but to me, it feels that way. Now everything’s finished, it’s time to mingle. At open mics, you don’t talk when others are performing. That’s considered rude and a disturbance, so I’m discovering that it’s afterwards when you really get then chance to talk to people properly. And there is this one performer that I really want to say hello to. He is called Mabloni, and he sang two really fun songs, one about how he’d never been to the USA and another one about apple pies baked with pineapple juice. I manage to say hello, and we have a lovely chat. And he recommends another open mic tomorrow at a bar commonly nicknamed the red bar. Great meeting you, and yes we’ll check that out tomorrow. 

I go back to the table to hang out a little bit more with Eric, who’s managed to get our performance recorded. When we check it out,we see that he’s come up with the first real recording that captures what we can be. Finally, we can actually share what we’re up to. 

I walk back to the hostel with a victorious feeling spreading through my chest.

The Berlin Diary, day seven

Day seven

Wednesday December 8

Maja:

Yesterday I performed for a total of four minutes, but I gave it my all which I can totally feel in my body as I wake up. Today we’ll go to the open mic that Mabloni recommended yesterday, so there’s no real worry to be had for the rest of today. I can allow myself to just chill and recover a little bit then go for it again tonight. I haven’t yet really got a feel for just how physically demanding performing can be, but as of now I have performed something every single day, and while it is incredibly fun it also takes its toll on the body. As the evening draws closer, I manage to feel a little bit more like myself again. 

The place we’re going to tonight is called Laksmi. Nicknamed the red bar, it is located in the middle of Kreutzberg, and after a short antigen test detour we make our way there, arriving at a quarter to seven. As we walk through the doors I am surprised by the size of the place. It’s small. By far the smallest place we’ve been in up to now. It has two rooms, the bar and stage area in the first room with seats in a L shape around the bar and the stage is right at the apex of the L. The second room is a smaller backroom with more seats. I would perhaps say that there are 25-30 seats available in total, and there’s a steady stream of people that just keeps on coming in. Just after we enter, the host of the evening greets us. His name is Mooves and we sign up on his list. He tells us that he doesn’t expect that many performers tonight, so there’s going to be a lot of time for us to perform. We may even get two slots. Great. We’re prepared and have a lot of songs ready, so it would only be really cool if that happened. He says he’ll give everyone two songs rather than the normally expected three, but with that, he expects there to be another round where everyone goes up again for another two songs each.

We sit down with a glass of water to enjoy the show, and what strikes me about this place is the thoroughly friendly feeling that spreads between both the regulars and new people. Most of the people here tonight seem to be regulars, they know each other and they all talk to each other. Except for when the show is on. Then the whole bar turns silent. You could hear a coin falling to the floor even though the bar is crammed by now. Every seat is taken, and the room is filled with the gentle tunes of first the host and then a wonderful performer on ukulele. As the show starts I realise that this is a completely unplugged event. Which actually feels quite cool. It’s nice to not have to bother with any mixing boards and cables, especially considering the minimal stage area which is just about big enough for one man and his guitar. Or maybe you could squeeze in two people. Possibly.

Six or seven performances later, it is time for us and once more we open with I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). And I am able to perform it in a way I have never done before. I feel light, energetic and it is just fun. I’m standing in front of the stage, pretty much on the edge, slightly in front of Mark, and I am almost floating with energy. I perform to the people in the room, but I’m also bouncing off of Mark. The whole room is with us. In every breath. 

Mark:

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, we both step off the stage and start walking through the audience still playing. We have the bar to our left and a slightly raised seating area to our right so we have a good, natural path to follow, all eyes on us all the way. Already we can see the looks of appreciation on people’s faces like we’re giving something different and are really putting it out there. I’m in front and Maja’s walking behind singing. Then, as we reach the back room and give a quick blast in there, we turn round. Or rather, I turn round. Maja decides to walk backwards, crouched down and singing towards me. Now we’re both crouching down, passing through the crowd and both singing. To each other, eyes locked. The whole audience has disappeared to us but we can feel their presence and silence. And complete captivation. It’s like we’re having a private moment and they all just happen to be inhabiting the same space. But at the same time, we really are all in this together. This is our moment, but everyone else feels it.

In this backwards way we move up to return to the stage. Maja first, still singing, me still playing. My front foot reaches the stage and I start to step up with my back foot. I’ve totally forgotten my phone is hanging out of my back pocket. Now I feel it catch under the edge of a table which is now directly behind me. I’m already far too committed to my forward movement and I can do nothing as I feel the phone start to tip the table. Not a massive amount but enough to send a full pint sliding off to smash spectacularly loudly on the floor, in the process totally soaking the poor unfortunate man who happens to be sitting right in front of it. 

Maja:

There is now glass absolutely everywhere, including on the stage. Me and Mark both stop, because we have to do something to help, right? But as soon as we do, an urgent noise comes from the crowd as they shout, seemingly as one, ‘No, no. Keep going, keep going.’ The guy that got drenched is also looking up and nodding happily, urging us to continue. I look at Mark, and he shrugs and nods. And we jump back into the verse, exactly where we left off. We finish the song and the bar absolutely explodes in cheers and whoops.

Just wow. We just stand there on stage for a moment, and I catch a glance of Mark’s eyes as we take in the feeling and taste of the excitement in the room. During this little moment I can feel how everyone around us is filled with a shocklike anticipation. We hold onto the beautiful anticipatory silence, Mark taps out a four on the guitar, and we’re back in.

Mark:

It’s an amazing moment, but in the excitement of it all, I completely forget which verse we’re on. Do I hit the chorus after these four lines, or do we have another four to go in this one? I have no idea. I’m looking at Maja’s back so there’s no communication to be had. I just go for it. Into the chorus. And she drops right into it too. Damn that was the songwriting equivalent of red wire, blue wire. With slightly lower stakes. 

The reaction after our first song, our actual introduction to this place, is enormous. Far bigger than anything we’ve ever experienced before and we’ve had some pretty good experiences with it. Damn, this is big.

Maja:

And now off we go into the next song. Rock ‘n’ roll Tree. This is an epic singalonger and we can see almost everyone in the room moving with us. As we reach the climactic conclusion, I find myself smiling wide and I lower my body preparing for the explosion of sound that I know will happen soon after. We smash into the peak of the last notes of the song and the room blows up once more. 

Mooves, the host, gets back up on stage and jokes ‘Thank you to The Diaries. If you sit in front, you have to expect to get wet.’ 

As we make our way back to our seats, it seems everyone from here to there has something to say to us. I just manage to catch a couple of encouraging words before Mark comes with the first beer of the night, and the room returns to silence in respect of the next performer. The taste of that beer is the best feeling in the world. It tastes of success.

Mark:

This feeling of success is only heightened when Mooves starts to ponder what he will play next. He looks up at the audience and says, ‘I’m just thinking. I haven’t got anything as good as I Like You Better When You’re Naked.’ He’s surely half joking at the sheer audacity of the song’s title, but it sure feels like a stamp of approval.

Then, as Mooves is into his song and the room accompanies him in respectful silence, a guy at the bar turns to me and says, ‘That glass smash was just epic. True rock’n’roll. That’s how you make an introduction.’ Well yeah. I guess we have. The initial feeling was one of embarrassed horror, but looking back now, it really was quite the moment and it’s probably become the huge punctuation exclamation mark over a performance I think people in here are going to remember. We certainly are. 

Maja:

Now we’re managing to talk a little with a few other people between the performers but the focus of the people around us is not on what’s happening now. Instead, we’re getting a lot of expressions of excitement for what we’re going to do with our next set. This comes up a lot sooner than we were expecting; a few people played everything they wanted to play first time round and so decline a second turn. So it’s not that long before it comes round to us again. As I walk up to the stage, a girl sitting at the bar says that she looks forward to our performance. I get up on the stage with even a bigger smile than before. But this time it’s just me. I’m alone on the stage and Mark is at the back, in the other room. 

Mark:

We kinda planned this. Or, at least I did. Maja has no idea what I’m going to do. Well, neither have I really. We said we would start with Bang Bang this time and I thought it would be fun, with the whole unplugged thing, for us to start on opposite sides of the room. And we’ve been able to really get ahead of things and start immediately following the performer before us; this concept of everyone playing again massively helped because as soon as we saw the guy we went on after last time, we knew we were up next. So it is, before the applause for the last guy has even died down, Maja has ended up on stage on her own and I’m now at the back with an expectant table full of Irish people looking up at me, as well as the rest of this back room. I have an idea. I thought we were just both going to start singing but now I’m going to try something I’ve never done before. I’m going to get a clap going before a song begins. ‘OK everybody, on me,’ I say with huge confidence, knowing that anything less will get no reaction at all. And, hands above head, I start clapping. 

Maja:

I hear a clapping begin down in the other room and it starts to seep into the front bar. I join in while also showing my part of the audience that they should clap too. At this, Mooves thinks he’s missed something and runs up to the stage to introduce us. As he does, I turn to him and say ‘Hang on, we’ve already started.’ I can see the surprise spreading across his face as he says ‘Oh, wow. Great. These guys, wow, they’ve already started.’ This comes out in a very impressed and happy way as he hurries back to his seat. During this time, the whole room is still clapping along in unison and we haven’t even done anything yet. I stop clapping, but Mark continues. And we start to sing. We can barely hear each other, but we’re letting the people around us hear us. So we walk around, meeting each other in the middle where we bounce off each other for a little while and then switch sides, me going into the back room and Mark going next to the stage, the space I’ve just left. In this manner, we sing and the whole room is clapping. Oh, except me. I don’t clap. I just sing. 

Mark:

As if it was all choreographed and perfectly planned, we hit the stage at the same time with a few bars of the song to go. I now put the guitar on and I’m ready as soon as we finish to a wonderfully joyous reaction from our now wholly interactive room.

Maja:

We now use the time in between songs to talk a little bit more about ourselves. I present our tour and say they can read about our adventures online in The Diaries. In the meantime, Mark’s ready with the guitar and we’re off into our last song Insanity. It’s a calm song, but it is very pretty and impactful.

Mark:

Again we utilise the whole room, which we feel like we own by now. We start with me on the stage and Maja standing on a stool down on the floor and dominating the room. But then again we start to move around the whole area. This is a quiet song, we’re unplugged and we want everyone to be able to hear it. So around the bar we go, giving everyone a piece. This might mean that not everyone hears everything but they all come along with us on this journey, sharing in the epic feel of the moment as we wander right from the front to the back and back to the front again. There’s even a verse where I’m at the back singing it to those guys, and Maja is at the front singing to her people. Then we meet in the middle again, then once more it’s back to the stage. And every single person in here is with us the whole time while they’re also wondering just what the hell is going on. As we finish and the applause rises up from the crowd, getting louder and louder, we stand there and take it all in. For Maja, this kind of reaction is just normal by now. For myself, across every open mic I’ve run, played at or just attended, I’ve never ever seen a new act come in and dominate and own an evening like we have tonight. In fact, I’ve seen very few established people even do anything like this. For us, this has not been an open mic. It’s been a show. Our show. 

Maja:

Insanity seems to have hit this audience like we’re playing them our favourite song that we’ve worked on for 10 years. As we finish up and Mooves come back up on stage, I’ve actually forgotten all about the time we played it at Zimt Und Zunder, and I tell him that this was our first time performing this song. It certainly felt like it was the first time I’ve ever sung that song. And he absolutely loses his mind over that fact which actually isn’t that far off being a real fact. 

As we leave the stage this last time, there’s one closing performance featuring some regulars and Mooves putting on some covers. The whole bar sings along and this totally affects the room as soon as the song ends. It all turns into one of the best parties I’ve ever been to and I feel like a rockstar and center of attention the whole rest of the evening. 

Me and Mark just walk around the place talking to everyone, and everyone wants to talk to us. It’s incredible. We meet a couple of Irishmen, and one of them tells me that he’s honoured to have shared the stage with me tonight. Wait what? Did I catch that right? Come on Mark, did I really catch that right?

Mark:

Yep. That’s right. That happened.

Maja:

Ok. So someone honestly just said that. I can’t really believe it. That seems like such an absurd over the top thing to be told. But I’m grateful, and I chat around with other people some more. Then I move over to the next table. There, I get chatting to a girl who suddenly breaks off to sing ‘I Like You (Better When You’re Naked).’ Stunned, I join in singing the song with her and then she tells me how much she loves it. Now, still singing, she starts to dance. Wow…is this really happening? Next I go to the bar to get myself a drink, and the girl that said that she looked forward to our second performance earlier on has some other amazing things to say. We talk for a while, having a wonderful time. I get to chat with her boyfriend as well who also played tonight. He’s from London and is an excellent musician. He seems really impressed as well. Then I talk a bit with Mooves who also has a lot of warm words to say. And he says he wants to introduce me to his producer friend at the other side of the bar, as well as the usual regular presenter of the open mic here; I learn now that Mooves fills in for occasions when it clashes with something the regular guy has on. Like a gig. Great. I’m happy to chat a bit more with these guys while Mark mingles around the rest of the place. A bit later the people in the bar have started to turn over and there are now a lot of new people here. They missed the show which means that the mingling part becomes a little bit harder. But that’s OK. It’s around time to leave now anyway. So we tell Mooves it’s been wonderful and start to say our goodbyes. This has all been so much. We’ve both been caught in a whirlwind in here tonight and we’ve barely seen each other since the end of our last performance. Just like it should be. Two people mingling is double the amount of contacts made. 

What an evening. This was by far our best performance, best reaction, and the best evening we’ve had since we’ve been in Berlin. All at Laksmi, the red bar. I really want to come again.

Mark:

Yep, that would be brilliant but unfortunately this is the last such event here until after Christmas. But maybe the bar itself will be open next week. It could still be pretty cool to come along to for the hang.

The Berlin Diary, day eight

Day eight

Thursday December 9

Mark:

We wake still in something of a state of disbelief at what just happened last night, which can also be added to the reaction from Tuesday. One question someone asked me last night keeps swirling in my mind. ‘What the hell just happened in here?’ It was ‘only’ an open mic, but it’s the single best show I’ve ever played. The best set of songs I’ve ever played and the greatest reaction to an open mic act I’ve ever seen, let alone been part of. Now I’ve got a little distance from it, albeit only a single night’s sleep, I can honestly say I’ve simply never seen an act, new or established, come into an open mic and affect a room like that. Certainly no first timer I’ve seen has even come close and I’ve seen a lot of great debutants who’ve really made an impact. Last night was an event that I know we’re going to remember but I think people who were there are going to remember it as well.

Maja:

Laksmi sure is the best show I’ve ever played. The feel of the place, the reactions we got, and the pulse of the music we played was just incredible. Simply put, it was amazing.

Mark:

This all adds up to a big feeling of validation that we have something here which really could be something. If you have any thoughts of doing anything as an original act, in pretty much any creative discipline, you have to be able to go into a room of strangers and, with no hype or expectation, transport them and really provoke a reaction. It’s a huge ask and a big thing to expect of yourselves. But we definitely did that last night, and warmed up for it very well by what we did the night before at Maja’s first ever open mic. We already had some kind of faith and belief in ourselves otherwise we wouldn’t have come out here to do all this in the first place. But it goes to another level when your own perception of reality could be comes into contact with actual reality and they at least in some way correlate.

After having turned up with nothing in the book until the 19th, so far in Berlin, we’ve now done a performance of some kind everyday. But now with nothing else on the horizon it’s time to get out and hustle the street again. If we don’t do it today, we’re going to be backing right up into the weekend. Also, today gives us something of a buffer possibility if we get asked to return or call tomorrow to speak to a manager. We now know that once Saturday comes, all bets are off. Then you could also be looking at Monday or Tuesday before managers start surfacing again. Or so my truly extensive experience of bar hustling tells me. Tonight is optimal and we have nothing on. Out into the early Berlin evening we go. It’s snowing and the temperature is only just hovering above freezing. But that aint going to put us off one little bit. We’re hustling.

Once more we head out over the bridge that crosses the huge expanse of railway tracks, and so affording our epic view over to the east of the city, right to the iconic TV tower. Over that and around 10 minutes later me and Maja are deep in conversation and not really paying much attention to our surroundings. The person coming the other way isn’t much more alert. So it’s quite the public scene when all three of us intersect each others’ paths and we realise we’re face to face with Katia. Bang. So great to meet her like this and she reacts exactly the same way. The bizarrer thing is that for the past ten minutes we’ve been in message communication with her as she’s been asking about our interest in the apartment and we’ve had a few questions of our own. Now, after the initial excitement of this out of nowhere meeting we can see if we can just get things sorted out. Maja’s been the contact point on this so she asks what the state of play is. So far we’re booked into the hostel until the 13th so some kind of immediate turn over would be good, and if that happens, we could well be settled there until the new year when we can make more plans. But it isn’t. Good. Katia proudly says that the room is available for us from the 20th. Oh balls. That really doesn’t work. If not for this place, we were thinking of doing our show on the 19th and possibly being out of here by the 21st. Or something. We still really don’t know. But her dates, or her landlord’s dates, or whatever, just seem a bit too messy for us. We tell her we’re not completely out, but that this looks like it really won’t work for us. No problem, she says. We’ll stay in touch. Well, we will anyway and it really has been great to see her. And to have this issue come to some kind of conclusion, even if not the conclusion any of us were really looking for. We chat for a little longer, then go our separate ways, our heads fully back in the game. That game includes making our way to Loophole, on the way hustling any venue that looks in any way promising, the idea being to concentrate on the Neukolln area. But first, and this is where we’re on our way to now, we’re walking in totally the opposite direction to head into Friedrichshain and Fargo to hopefully meet Lenny and organise a show there for the coming days.

He is indeed there when we arrive, and very happy to see us. ‘No problem,’ he says as soon as we’ve done our hellos and I ask. ‘How would tomorrow be for you? Say, 9 O’Clock?’ Great. And that’s that. Gig booked. Knock on enough doors, battle through enough nos and you find these people. Friedrichshain done, we now head south to Neukolln to see what we can tap out of what we believe could be a solid hunting ground for us. It’s quite a trek and as we enter the main area of Neukolln, we see that it’s wide busy commercial streets and not many bars. Our theory? Go deep. Hit the side streets. Get right off the main beaten track. Our Berlin is not out here where the mainstream and the tourists go. It’s in there. Down secret streets and hidden alleys. Into tiny bars found only by the most intrepid. And locals. The first corner we come to we find a dark, lonely bar. Could this be a thing? I’m not sure but then Maja sees the writing on its A board. ‘Spoken word night.’ A bar that has something like that has to have something for us. Spoken word is the definition of off the main track. We go in and are immediately greeted by a friendly guy who says he is indeed the manager. He’s whispering to us, as someone is in full spoken flow in a stage through another room that can’t quite be seen from here. He asks about the vaccination thing and we then tell him why we’re here. ‘Oh, I love the sound of that,’ he says. He gives us his card that identifies him as Nanoso and continues: ‘That’s definitely something I’d be interested in and could work with.’ Brilliant. Strike one and strike one. I just knew Neukolln would be our hood. We’ve been walking a while to get here and he also says he’ll be able to talk a little more at the break so we stop and have a drink, and he also goes behind the bar and pours us a shot of something spicy and tomatoey. When the break comes, he asks us to define our sound a little and we hit him with rockpop, and tell him a little about what we’ve been doing. He gets more and more interested and says that he does music in here on Saturdays and that it sounds like we could be something that fits right in with that. He’ll be looking at that over the next few days, although we’re also sure he’s quite booked up. But he invites us to send an email and we’ll take it from there. Brilliant. He goes off to take care of business and we write and send the email there and then. Then, just as we’re about to leave, he comes back to us and suggests a direction we might want to walk in to find more bars that would welcome us, including one in particular that he recommends. Brilliant.

We head down there, now also realising that we’re not too far away from Loophole. It could be a good idea to casually make our way down in that general direction, hustling promising looking bars on the way. Then, once at Loophole, we could see if our American promoter friend Mikey is around and see if there’s any joy from the email we sent after meeting him at the show on Sunday. We come to the bar that Nanoso told us about and see a jazz jam in full flow. Looks promising until we see a sign in the window, which is basically a list of all the rules of the bar’s open mic night. No this, no that, no something else. Oh dear. Looks like you could fall foul in here without even intending to. What a fragile line one must walk just to be allowed to exist in this place. We immediately decide we want no part of it and continue walking. For another ten metres or so when we find another bar we could check out. We walk in and straight into the jaws of an unplugged open mic night; a guy is literally performing to our right as we walk in and is surrounded be the audience, which we now walk right through and across to get to the bar. We’ve literally just walked all over his stage. We’re met there by a guy called Peter who is happy to hear from us and who directs us to follow him so we can talk. Out the back of the bar and we enter a small theatre-like space where Peter sets himself up on one of the rows of seats. We have a chat here and he says we sound like something that could fit in here, but that we need to talk to someone else. Peter gives us an address to contact the guy and recommends that we get in touch and say we dropped by. Great. Thankyou very much, and will do. Onto the next place. We find this not too far down the same street and walk into a busy bar where the owner, nevertheless, is happy to entertain us. We are then told that the bar has stopped live music for now, but that if we were to return in January or February, there could well be a conversation to be had. Brilliant. Put this bar on the list too. We’ll be back.

Continuing on and we find another bar to go and talk to. The guy behind the bar isn’t the manager, but I get a good vibe from him and sound him out. He says this could be good, and if we want, we could come back in half an hour or so and speak to the main guy. He also tells us of a few other places would could try. As we’re there chatting, we’re told the main guy has indeed just entered the small and interesting building. We’re introduced and he listens politely and with interest at our pitch. When we finish, he says, ‘It sounds great but look around. There is hardly any business here. You’d be playing to nobody.’ Yeah, that would be a shame. But again, he invites us to come back in a month or two and try again. In the meantime, he says, we should go have a look at a bar a few doors down. This sends us back the way we came and to a place we’d disregarded and walked right past. In the window we see one of the people we were told to ask for. We know this because we recognise him. It’s Wynton from Zum Krokodil who we saw perform a few days ago. We walk in, he looks up and very much recognises us and invites us to sit down. When we give him a card, he says, ‘Oh, you’re those guys.’ He didn’t see us the other night but says he heard all about us from one of the managers the next night. ‘I heard really good things,’ he says. ‘So what can I do for you now you’re here?’ We tell him why we’re in Berlin and what we’ve done so far and he’s in some state of disbelief. ‘I really didn’t think there were any guys like you still around trying to do things like this,’ he says. ‘The fact that you’re here and have been having some results is really inspiring and gives me hope.’ Wow. This from one of the movers and well known names on the local scene. He gives us the number of the girl who organises music here and says we should make the call, although he does urge caution that we might not be able to expect anything to happen until some time in the new year. We might be detecting something of a pattern here. But hey, we now have a name and some kind of recommendation from what that person would recognise as a trusted source. He then also tells us of an evening he runs at Zum Krokodil on Sundays called The Sunday Slip which is a general open floor for all kinds of performers, but definitely also for the likes of us. ‘Come on down,’ he says. ‘We’ll get you on.’ Brilliant. An invitation from the man himself. We will indeed be there. And apart from all that, he recommends another venue to us that we should check out.

We thank Wynton very much for his time, attention and invitation. And yet another heads up. It really has been cool to sit down and really get to know one of the local musicians a little. One more friendly face to add to our Berlin adventure.

From here, we walk pretty much uninterrupted to our destination to discover Mikey is not around tonight and that it’s DJ night. We could pay the five Euro cover to stay, but we’re not really feeling it tonight. So we decide to make a beeline for Zum Krokodil to see if we can meet the manager Wynton told us about and say hello. When we get there, the place is very quiet and our guy is not in tonight. But we still do meet one of the other managers who’s happy to see us and have a little bit of a hangout, and we also talk quite a lot to the girl behind the bar. More footprints left in the minds of Berlin’s nightlife. It’s also time for another respite from the cold and this place does great Gluvine, although not tonight unfortunately. We still stay for a while and soon decide we’re done for the night. It’s been a great hustle. Possibly the most successful such venture I’ve even been on. No. No possibly about it. This is the most successful, most welcoming, most fruitful hustle I’ve ever been on. So many positive reactions. And we’ve discovered so much, created a few possible gig leads, discovered a new open mic, and so many places have encouraged us to come and try again next time we’re in Berlin. And we booked a gig for tomorrow. That gig may well be in Friedrichshain, but yes, like we thought, Neukolln is very much looking like our Berlin sweet spot. None of this is to mention that we’ve also now got a much better idea of where our kinds of venues are, what they look like, how they work, and what the people are like to deal with. 

Time to go home now, but before we do, we have one more venue to hit which we also have some hopes for – Madame Claudes. And I remind you that we met some of the bar staff on Sunday night, so we feel like we already have half a foot in the place, socially at least. But as we get closer and closer, it becomes clear that we’re now running on empty and are in no shape to make a good, lively presentation of ourselves. No. We’re done for the night. It’s very firmly time for home and bed. But what a night. In its own and different way, every bit as epic as last night. Eight hours and 15 kilometres of hustle in the snow in minus temperatures. If this isn’t dedication I have no idea what is. It’s given us a whole bunch of positive meetings resulting in more than just possibilities in the bars we visited; as a result we also have a whole load of heads ups to check out and chase down. Myself and Maja have pretty much always known that we share a very similar work ethic, but this is just beyond. I can’t think of anyone else I’ve ever been in a project with – musical or otherwise – who would have come out and done anything remotely like this tonight, and that’s without even factoring in the weather. This truly is what going out and creating your own opportunities looks like. 

Maja:

Cold, exhausting and exciting.

The Berlin Diary, day nine

Day nine

Friday December 10

Mark:

For the first time since this all began, our plans smash right up against Corona with a call from my dad. He’s calling to see if we caught the news yesterday. We didn’t. There’s been a change to testing rules for entering the UK. We already knew testing would be required ahead of traveling and while in the UK, and to that end, our home testing kits were delivered and are already with my parents for when we arrive with testing due on the second and eighth day of the trip, although we’ll be out of there by the seventh day. But the announcement yesterday has changed all that. The new regulations state that you must not leave your designated residence until a negative test has been received from the test on day two. The way Christmas and the subsequent public holidays are falling, that means we wouldn’t receive a result until the 31st at the very earliest, the day we’re due to leave. Which means we won’t be able to leave my parents’ house for the entire stay. Which means it’s totally pointless going. With that, our Christmas plans are cancelled, along with the flights that had already been paid for. What now? We have no idea, but England is out. 

The day gets even better when rumours start to circulate, then get confirmed, that the hostel we’re staying in will be closing on the 16th, meaning checkout will have to be that day. At first we think this is Christmas closing, as we’ve been starting to learn in the past few days that Berlin nightlife pretty much closes around mid to late December for Christmas. But no. Plus Hotel Berlin will be closing its doors for good that day. Damn. Things just got even more uncertain. What we do know is that we want to stick around at least to play the Artliners’ gig on the 19th and then chill the next day. Which means a possible date of the 21st for leaving Berlin. For where, we have no idea.

We’ve been in Berlin for almost two weeks and haven’t done the tiniest bit of sightseeing. So far, all we’ve really seen is the main Berlin wall section and that’s across the road from our hostel. But that’s not bothering us at all. We’ve not come here to see Berlin. As much as we can in our time here, we’ve come here to be Berlin. To get underneath it. To live it. To reach the parts other tourists don’t reach. So far we feel we’ve given a decent account of that intention. To that end, we feel no pressure to get out and about and see the place. Not yet anyway. With our gig at Fargo tonight and considering how much we felt run into the ground last night, we promise ourselves we’ll take it easy today and give ourselves the best chance of a good performance.

Maja:

Take it easy, right. We got home way past midnight yesterday once again, and I think we might have overdone it with the walking. It’s like no matter how much I sleep, I can’t get to a state that feels fresh. I pretty much refuse to leave bed until maybe 5 or 6 pm when it is time to prepare for the gig. Today there’s been no energy for a rehearsal, no energy for any outings and no energy for any writing or anything else that needs to get done on a day to day basis. Today has all been about that gig, and it is what we need to do. I really have a good feeling about the manager Lenny, and really want to show him what we’re all about. 

We get to the venue well before the showtime to set up on the stage area which is right next to the window, so the people walking by can see that there’s going to be a show on tonight. Hopefully, that will make at least a couple of people come in to see what’s going on. Once we’re set up, Lenny is kind enough to lend us a monitor we didn’t know he had. Which is great. I’ve never used a monitor before. It should mean that soundwise, everything should be better than it’s ever been for me on stage, right?

Well, not quite. 

I feel drained, and I am having a hard time getting into the feeling for tonight’s show. It’s a show I really want to go well, but it’s like the tiredness is impacting even the soundcheck and I have a hard time putting out the usual charming me. We somewhat finish the soundcheck and it all sounds quite OK when we are done with it. Mark disappears to socialise with the people around and I go to recheck the setlist and psych myself up for the show. Time flies and our little group of friends arrive just before the show starts. Perfect. Psyched up, I go and say hello, then it’s showtime. 

We start off like we always do but in the middle of the first song something happens with the monitor. It could be that natural stage movement of ourselves, and simple vibrations have shifted it slightly. Whatever’s happened, all I can hear now is bass frequencies and it is making it really hard to hear myself. Impossible really. Every sound I make sounds distorted and wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it. Without any better ideas, I decide to power through. But I am so annoyed at the sound, it is hard to hear myself and it is already making a hard situation even harder. After a while I decide to turn it off. But this seems to completely put Mark off, or at least he doesn’t seem happy with suddenly having no monitor, so I turn it back on again. And the sound comes back as awful as it was before. But finally I do notice something I can make work with. As the bass frequencies come at me I’m able to link them to strong vibrations I’m feeling through my feet. I have no doubt the monitor is great and would normally be totally helpful. But it could be that its exact position on the stage, and maybe also my position on the stage right in front of it, is causing these vibrations. Which are drenching out the frequencies of the sound I need to hear to be able to sing in any controlled manner. If we’d soundchecked with the monitor earlier than we did and found this issue then, maybe simply moving it to a different position could have eliminated all this and everything would have been fine. But we got it just before we started, were delighted to have it, and didn’t foresee any problems. And now we’re mid gig, there really isn’t a lot, if anything, we can do about it. However, having identified something of a source to the problem, I now have something I can actually do about it. I immediately turn the volume down until I feel that the vibrations stop. Finally. What a relief. It’s not as loud as before, but it is now at a level so we both can hear it and it doesn’t drench my voice out with harsh frequencies. But it’s taken almost until the end of the show for me to realise all this and I’ve been battling with it all night barely being able to think about my performance at all. I try to relax and get into a good feel for the rest of the show. 

It still seems like our friends had a nice time, but it’s obvious that I need to get better at handling our equipment. I need to be able to always hear myself clearly, otherwise I just can’t put on a good show. How can I know I’m hitting all the pitches I need to if I can’t even hear myself?

I’m taking tonight as a wake up call. We need to have better equipment and I need to know how to use it better, so I know what to do when it sounds strange. 

Even though I’m not really happy with my personal performance, and this is the account of how I experienced it, we get a good reaction around the bar. It seems like people are appreciating the songs and recognising them for what they are, great songs. And I am very happy we got to play here and I definitely think that this show gave both us as a band and me as an artist irreplaceable live experience. I got to learn things today that no amount of rehearsal could ever give me. Now I know what to fix. 

The rest of the evening turns into a wonderful drinking party with our mates that were really happy that they were able to catch the show. Even though I’m having a little bit of a heavy feeling in my stomach, I am having a lovely evening. Thank you Lenny, and thank you Fargo. See you soon again.

Mark:

We do very much think we’ll be in here again soon and I go and talk to Lenny to see about a follow up show maybe next week. He has some very encouraging words and loves our energy, songs and overall presence and feel. But he’s not been totally convinced by the vocals tonight and says we need to work on that a little first. We know the monitor was against us tonight but we don’t want to make excuses or seem ungrateful so we let it go. But there is a very real point here. We’ve realised we do need a monitor and we need to have one of our own that we can get used to. And once we have that, we’ll also be able to incorporate that into our soundcheck and eliminate any issues a particular setting might throw up. Lenny is very open to us returning but if he’s heard issues we could fix before that can happen, then fair enough. I think we’re going to put this down as an experience we’ve learned a lot from and something we’re now going to act on.

The Berlin Diary, day 10

Day 10

Saturday December 11

Mark:

We’ve decided to stay until the hostel closes. Right up to the end. We’ve also decided, after last night’s experience, that we need to up our equipment game a little so are returning to Just Music to buy a stage monitor. We’re going to do this by taking our whole setup there to hopefully be able to see what we should buy to supplement it, and also to have a look at how the whole thing could work.

Eric comes and hangs out in our room for a while and I do something I’ve never done before – start writing a song with someone not involved in the process just happening to be there. But this feels different. I’m not picking the guitar up in hopes of fishing around and coming up with something. No. A fully formed idea pops into my head and I just know something is going to come out when I pick up the guitar. The fact that someone else is around doesn’t even begin to factor. There’s no feeling of pressure of creation. I just have this as I feel whole sections coming into focus in my mind. Before anyone knows what’s happening I’ve written a chorus and two verses, although I don’t feel like I’ve fully written them, they were just there and I managed to get them down before they disappeared. There is still some lifting and thought process going on here and Maja jumps in to help with that. Within about 10 minutes, we’re looking at something we feel could be fully put together before too long. Run has been born.

Maja:

The whole process of writing Run was one of the quickest songwriting processes I’ve ever witnessed or even heard of. It was incredible to be a part of it. Eric had just about entered the room when it started. It was clear what was about to happen. Mark got into the zone and I know when he starts getting there, the first thing he needs is silence, space, a notebook, a pen and a guitar. And a recording device because the idea might get lost as soon as it gets created. So I make sure he finds all of that as soon as possible, which is hard living in a small hostel room, and give him space and silence to get out whatever’s in his head right now. Only then am I able to help, and I do. With things like helping put the idea into shape, lyric writing, melodies or whatever heavy lifting remains. For us both, it is very important to respect the ideas and songs when they come and to give ourselves the space and respect that is needed to ultimately turn an idea into an actual song. 

We’re soon looking at a page that contains the first draft of a song. Every line has a melody and phrasing to it and the hook is catchy. A rough first take is recorded on the phone as well. It feels incredible. Sometimes, it really can be like this. 

Mark:

After a while Eric leaves for whatever his plans are and we decide to stay right where we are. Last night completely demonstrated that real tiredness has taken something of a grip and we really need to slow down. So tonight we’re going nowhere. Not even to the one gig we know is happening featuring our new friends Bodhran Slippy who we met at Zum Krokodil on Tuesday. For those of you who don’t know, this is a play on the phrase born slippy based on the bodhran, a type of Irish handheld drum which strongly features in their sound. Well, good luck to those guys on their show tonight. We’ll just have to try to catch you next time.

The Berlin Diary, day 11

Day 11

Sunday December 12

Mark:

With Sunday Slip on tonight we just have to try to finish this new song. It would be so cool to have something brand new to play. And finish it we do. This means that when we take to the stage tonight we will be playing a song that only fully came together in the very last minutes before leaving for the show. It really doesn’t get newer than that.

As you may remember, this is taking place at Zum Krokodil. With our debut here last week, and given that we popped in on Thursday night, this is now our third time here. Inadvertently, we seem to have found a regular Berlin venue. And it’s bang in Neukolln.

We get there and meet Wynton and his friend and host for the evening, Liliana. Once we’re signed up, we’re told there’s another half hour or so until things begin, so we take advantage of this for a last minute run through; new songs have a habit of slipping out of your mind when you try to perform them too early in the gestation period. We’re heading off that possibility by going out into the street now for an a capella run through of it by the light of a closed shop across the road. We get through that OK and declare ourselves as ready as can be.

Liliana and Wynton have been doing this for years and it all has a slightly different feel to an open mic; it’s more of an event and we can see how epic it could be, even though the place is very sparsely populated tonight. They have a theme song which clearly kicks the evening off, then Liliana comes out and launches into a stand-up comedy show, involving as many audience members as she can. So that’s what this is about. Not just musicians, but comedians and, as she says now, performers of any kind. She also tells the audience that people use this space to experiment and try out all kinds of new and edgy material that may or may not work. To that end, she requests that this stage is respected as their safe space. Quite brilliant. She then announces that we will be playing first, so up we go for our two songs.

We’ve decided on I Like You Better (When You’re Naked) and of course Run, which we proudly announce as being as new as new could possibly be. As I said, the place is quiet tonight and there’s a slightly flat, end of season feeling to it all. We do OK and feel well listened to and politely received, but the audience clearly isn’t ready to come up to our levels of energy just yet. It’s fair to say that through the evening it never really does as we roll through the rest of the performers and Liliana does her best to keep things upbeat. But when the last person has done their thing, even though there are essentially 45 minutes of stage time left, rather than go for another round, Liliana and Wynton decide to call time on the last Sunday Slip of the year. The atmosphere all round is still a bit flat and people aren’t really hanging around. We call it a night soon after as well, but head home very happy that we finished a whole new song today, and then came out and performed it.

The Berlin Diary, day 12

Day 12

Monday December 13

Mark:

I wake with thoughts of some kind of song running round my head, but really vaguely formed. There are no melodies or lyrics really, just a kind of style of something I really feel like getting on with. Once we’re both up and somewhat into the morning, I ask Maja to find me a set of lyrics from the notebooks we have; there are ten such books going right back to our earliest days in London, two of them A4 and quite a few of them full, including one of the A4s. Maja has a flick through and one set catches both of us as soon as the page flies open. Beanie Love. An idea from our first few weeks together which soon became a full on set of lyrics. We’ve always had a soft spot for this and constantly reference it in conversation. It seems it’s time has now come. I still don’t have any solid song ideas beyond a vague style, and I now ask Maja to give me a chord progression. She does so and I play around with that while reading the lyrics. Looking at this together, very quickly a chorus and approximation of three verses all pop out. Beanie Love is finally on its way.

Maja:

I am ridiculously excited about the song Beanie Love. We have used that title as a working title for the concept and lyrics that we started all that time ago. Lying in bed in the house in London. Staring up at the ceiling. Laughing. Writing. Dreaming. Crying and talking. I remember looking at the spikily painted ceiling, wondering why it was so textured. But it was a nice thing to focus my eyes on, and it has a funny name. Popcorn ceiling. 

And that was how Beanie Love started, with us both joking around and writing the fun things down. Now it has started to turn into a very happy and fun song, which is still as close to heart of the concept as it was when we wrote the very first words. 

Mark:

Once we’re ready to be out and about, thoughts turn to the new equipment shopping we’ve planned to do. All our gear is still packed up from Friday and we walk it down to Just Music where a seriously knowledgeable guy in the sound department gives us his full time and attention to see how we can be helped. We unpack all our gear, set it up, and get to work looking at how it can be improved. And it proves to be a little more than we were thinking, never more so than when we compare microphones.

Maja:

Testing the equipment at Just Music with the sound guy there is, at the same time, an amazing and dispiriting experience. It’s made me realise just how bad our equipment is. For a start, we discover that three of the microphones we have, which are all from the same set, are seriously substandard. When the guy sets the sound desk and I use our industry standard microphone after using one of the three others, I can suddenly hear myself so much better. It sounds just amazing. Clearer and crisper. A lot of that muddled feeling that I have such a hard time handling has disappeared. I can’t believe I used to go for the cheaper set because of the convenience of an on/off button. That was a really bad decision. Then we try the new mixing desk he’s recommended for us, as well as what he now says are the correct cables. For every little adjustment he makes, the sound quality just increases. By noticeable amounts, especially for me. Then he adds a little bit of reverb to my voice and a whole new layer of warmth appears making it even nicer to hear. I’m very impressed. 

I think I’ve concluded that if the sound going out to the audience is good, if the sound coming back to me isn’t right, I can’t sing properly so the sound going out won’t be so good. But if I can hear things properly, like it seems I will with this new setup, I’ll be able to sing so much better and impactfully which will mean a good performance and a good sound for both the audience and myself.

I also take the opportunity to learn a little more and ask any questions I have about the mixing desk, which increases my confidence in handling the system even more. Mark has some knowledge and experience of sound but he’ll be the first to admit he’s no expert and it’s great for both of us to get such a masterclass from this guy today. 

Mark:

The guy also brings out an alternative mixing desk, complete with effects which ours is lacking. We were thinking of maybe just buying a little effects unit to add a little more reverb or body to our sound, but this new desk is so much better than what we have and, added to the new microphone, is a revelation. So in it goes. As for monitor, we go through a few options and end up buying exactly the same speaker that we bought here last week so now we have two of them and we have a look now at how this should all be put together. To the collection we also add a bag in which to carry microphone stands, something which can be quite tricky on a trolley, not least when trying to carry it up and down stairs. And finally, we get advice on alternative speaker connector cables which again prove to be far superior to what we’ve been using. I think it’s fair to say we’ve completely overhauled our sound capability in here today in what has been a hugely beneficial exercise. But with all that, there’s one more thing to buy. Another trolley because all this new stuff can’t possibly be carried on one. So now the two of us will have a trolley to pull to gigs. But it also means a little weight has come off the one that we had, so overall the effect is to make the process much easier. And once we’ve started to use this equipment a little more, not least the monitor, we feel we’ll have a far better sound and much more control over it which will also translate to confidence and consistency of performance. To be fair, we may have been struggling with this a little more than we realised with equipment that wasn’t quite up to what we thought it was, and without our own dedicated monitor. As we happily leave the store, we feel ready to start working to hit the next level.

But, beyond Berlin, where is this next level going to take place? We have no idea. We kinda have plans to go to Prague next but surely there’ll be no point being there until at least the second or third week of January. Nothing happens in any immediate new year. We could go and chill for a while and rehearse and get our bearings but we’re not convinced. We consider going back to Ireland for a few weeks but that would involve a drive across Europe for a ferry, and then a drive all the way back out here when the time was right again. Seems a bit much. Stay in Berlin until we’re ready to move somewhere else? But stay where? Especially considering our current place closes in a few days. Katia’s apartment is still on the cards but far from a solid proposition. And of course we were supposed to be in England over Christmas until that got pulled away a few days ago.

But Maja has another possibility. Friends in Sweden are going away for Christmas and they’d be up for having us stay at their place from the 21st until the new year. This has been quietly bubbling away for a few days and today gets confirmed. Brilliant. So that’s that sorted. We already have Artliners booked for the 19th and were never considering leaving immediately the day after. So the 21st suits us perfectly. We can already see that Berlin is starting to wind down for Christmas and there’s no open mic anywhere tonight that we’re aware of. Fine. Given that we need to make the most of what we learnt at the Fargo experience, especially considering how tired we were for that show, we decide to concentrate on Artliners. We really want to be at our energetic best for that one, especially as it’s livestreamed. We’re very happy with how much we’ve been able to play and put ourselves about, so we decide to use this week for relaxing, sightseeing and rehearsing. And Diary writing and podcast recording. But we will do Zum Krokodil tomorrow, returning to that particular venue for the fourth time.

The Berlin Diary, day 13

Day 13

Tuesday December 14

Mark:

It takes us a while to feel ready to record today’s podcast which we title, ‘We’re Going To Need A Bigger Trolley.’ As soon as we finish, we have to leave to get to Zum Krokodil in time for registration at 7pm.

By the time we’ve finished all our little administrative things after the podcast and really got on our way, we’re leaving a bit later than we wanted and we end up almost sprint walking to the place; if the list is full tonight, arriving just five minutes later than required could be the difference between playing and not playing. But when we get there, we find a very chilled place with only two prospective performers and host Conor. Berlin is indeed winding down beneath our feet. However, the quieter atmosphere allows us to talk to Conor and the guys a little more and we get a few questions about who we are and what we’re doing here. This opens us up to talking about The Diaries and the tour a little more, and how this all began back in London. Conor is captivated by the story and promises to give us a good introduction, saying he will also tell people about the website and the podcast. Brilliant.

He holds back starting the evening a little as people are slow to arrive, but about 15 minutes after the intended start time, he does get up and do his thing in the spirit of just getting it rolling. But soon after, people do start to arrive in greater numbers and the potential list fills up and it is really looking like this could again be something tonight. When the time comes to introduce us, Conor stays very true to his word and really gives us a big lead up, showing that he totally gets our story and that he’s fully caught onto what we’re doing. We have three songs. We’ve debated this quite a bit and have agreed on Insanity and Run, but then what to play as a fourth song? We simply have to do I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) everywhere we go. But then where does that leave Rock’n’Roll Tree? We kinda have to play that too. Insanity and Run go great and then the choice of third song comes in. Almost without thinking I just launch into Rock’n’Roll Tree. Maja looks at me across the stage like, ‘Are you sure?’ I am. And it’s started now. Cool, is her reaction. And we’re in. Fully committed, right to the end. The growing audience erupts as we finish and Conor comes bounding over to us to do the whole presenter thing. ‘The Diaries, ladies and gentlemen,’ he exclaims. ‘You will be seeing them next at Wembley Stadium.’ Well, yeah. That’s the attitude we’re performing with. Nice to see it’s being caught onto.

The rest of the evening goes by with some really high quality performers, and when it’s all over, plenty of them stick around for the post show hang.

Maja:

It’s been a great performance and there’s really not that many people around. It’s right before Christmas, in the height of covid with the new Omicron variant just starting to spread around like a tsunami of doom. It’s on everyone’s minds, and people are staying at home for both of these reasons. That means that the few people that are actually here are the regulars and a few other brave souls whose paths crossed with Zum Crocodile. We’ve also played here before, so the regulars very much remember us as that crazy act that literally shook the place with our performance. All of this leads to people all around being very easy to approach and talk to. So I get to have a great chat with Connor the host, and also with Mabloni the Apple Pie guy. Connor invites us to his performance this Saturday, but honestly I have no idea if we’re going to make it. I really want to go, so I make sure to ask if we can buy tickets at the door since I’m not sure if we can make it. I’m met by understanding and maybe a little ‘Yeah, I’ll make sure that you can. It should probably be OK.’ Great, thank you very much. I really hope we can make it. I also chat a bit with Mabloni. I really like his performances, and in my mind he is the apple pie guy that has never been to the USA. A combination of his two performances from last week, and they’ve really stuck in my head. I like the guy and I even buy his CD so I can listen to those songs myself. It’ll be fun to have something to listen to in my car for some of my long drives. 

I’m quite happy with both my performance tonight, and with how much I was able to chat to people. 

The Berlin Diary, day 14

Day 14

Wednesday December 15

Mark:

As we’ve established, we really feel we’ve been seeing the Berlin the tourists don’t see. Getting right inside it to almost become part of the place and, actually, part of what tourists do come to see, which is what the local entertainment scene has to offer. In that, we really do feel like we’ve penetrated to some level of depth.

Maja:

It’s more like we’re living the true Berlin. We’re getting into the nooks and crannies of what Berlin is, far away from the beaten tracks we imagine most tourists would see. We’re living the nightlife in deep covid territory, where you have to get a nose swab everyday before you’re even allowed in the door of the venues where you’d want to go. That’s the Berlin we’re used to, the Berlin filled with hope and creativity perfectly imperfectly stalled by a pandemic. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to see the tourist Berlin a little bit too. It is after all a city filled with historical meaning which seeps through every corner of every building, every gust of wind and even the people walking the streets. 

Mark:

Well today, we are going to hit the tourist trail and we want to do it while it’s still light. First destination: The famous Christmas market in Charlottenburg. There are quite a few of these around Berlin, but this one is right at the centre of Kurfurstendamm, or the Ku’damm, the city’s most prestigious and possibly most attractive shopping street. At its centre is the Kaiser Wilhelm Church which was bombed in the second world war and left unrepared as a memorial. This is a spectacular setting for our market today, which is built all around the church, so sits literally in the shadow of it. The market itself is a wonderful display of traditional stores left and right all the way around in a large circle and we take in the whole thing before opting for German currywurst followed by a hunt for something on the sweeter scale, which we find in the shape of a skewer of candy coated grapes which are every bit as much fun to eat as you might imagine. The stores themselves are all wonderfully photogenic and we take it all in as we wander around, marvelling at the church and savouring the general fairground attraction feel.

When we’ve looked around all we can, it’s back to the car and a drive around this historic centre as we go all the way up to the Brandenburg Gate past the Victory Column roundabout, and then up past the Tiergarten and the T-34 tanks of the Russian war memorial. 

Back ‘home’ and we start to think about taking a trip out. The open mic at Laksmi isn’t on tonight but we think it could be good to go and have a hang out there and maybe see if there are any friendly faces. When we get there, it’s not just the open mic that’s finished but the whole place as a sign announces it’s closed for Christmas. Oh well. Next destination. Which is a lovely looking bar across the road that we already had our eyes on. A place advertising itself as a craft beer specialist. We really do have to go and have a look. Once inside we find very welcoming bar staff and set ourselves up at the bar to have a look at their selection and start working our way through it. As we’re talking to a few of the guys, the bar manager comes in from the back of the place and says hi. He catches that we’re talking about music and introduces himself. So we introduce ourselves as Mark and Maja, The Diaries. ‘Oh,’ he says, taking a slight step backwards. ‘I’ve heard of you guys. Apparently you made quite the impression at Laksmi last week. The landlady was in here talking about you.’ At this our bartender friend looks at us with a little more interest. ‘That’s really got me intrigued now,’ she says. ‘I will have to check you out.’ And through all this, we ourselves are very much taken aback. Once again, this does not happen. We take it as a sign that we’re developing at least the tiniest little slivers of reputation around here.

Maja:

Wait what? did the bartender of a bar we’ve never been to know us? 

I’m feeling giddily happy, and my chest can’t contain the excitement that just keeps on flowing out of me. What an unbelievably fantastic night. 

The Berlin Diary, day 15

Day 15

Thursday December 16

Maja:

Thank you Plus Hostel Berlin. You’ve been great. I wish you’dn’t have had to shut your doors. Now we’re going to have to leave this awesome start to our journey and find somewhere else to call home. 

Mark:

We’ve booked our next hostel, Industriepalast – that’s Industriepalast – for two nights with the view to staying for the duration if we like it. Before then, we take our time getting ourselves together and leaving today. Check in for our next place isn’t until 2pm and checkout at Plus is 11am. But with it being the last day of school, as long as there are employees in the building, no-one really cares what time we leave. We make it out a little after 12pm and the guy at reception tells us we are the last guests in the building. The last guests ever to be at Plus Hostel, Berlin. The place Maja has found is right across the road which is a little more of a trek than it sounds, but still. It isn’t far. So we do it all on foot in two trips. Arriving there, we tell the receptionist that we know check in isn’t until 2, but we had to be out of our last place by now, so could we please leave some stuff here and come back later. We’re told yes, and then the guy is stunned at the amount of gear we bring in to be stored in their little lock-up on the ground floor. We leave him to contemplate all that while we head out for another little tourist day to fill the time between now and check-in. Destination for today: Alexanderplatz. This is the central zone of old East Berlin and home to Berlin’s TV tower and it’s a good solid walk away.

This walk takes us right along the almost mile long section of Berlin wall from the East Side Gallery, stopping for the first time to actually take some pictures of ourselves here. Yes, we are in full tourist mode. We reach Alexanderplatz and just have a general walk around, surprised that there really isn’t a great deal to actually see here but it’s still cool to have made it to the base of the tower we’ve been looking over at for the past two weeks. A wander round the area for a while, stopping for lunch in a sushi restaurant and it’s time to make it back to check in for real. We return on one of the spectacular train routes that cross all over the city like a kind of inverse tube system. Here, it’s all above ground so that as you walk around the place, trains are constantly rushing over your head, or high to the side of you around 20 feet up. Now we’re riding one of those trains and taking in the full panoramic city view they always provide. We arrive at the hostel around 5pm, reclaim all our stuff and take it up to the room we’ve been assigned and choose our own beds – mine on one side of the room and Maja’s on the other. On a chair next to her bed, Maja’s finds a suitcase which she casually picks up and moves next to the one other bed in here that someone has already claimed. OK. So we have a room mate. Cool. There could be more to come as this is a six-bed room with three others yet to be spoken for.

But we don’t think any more about that. Today has taken it out of us again and, on our respective beds, fully clothed and on top of the covers, we both soon fall deep asleep. A half hour or an hour or so later I’m woken by the door opening to our room. I’m on the right hand side of the room looking down a small corridor towards the outer door. Inside this corridor to the left from where I’m looking is the bathroom. Into the room now comes our new roommate and would-be companion. That’s how it works in hostels, right? Everyone’s sharing bedrooms and kitchens and toilets and showers. People are on their own or in groups and most of them are on holiday or at least in some kind of holiday mode. Whatever their reasons for being here, it is by definition a shared, communal environment and everyone gets along to get along, occasionally on the way meeting people who become good friends. At the very least, you generally go for a friendly disposition and more or less expect something from that genre to come back at you. Right? OK. Let’s see how this plays out.

I look up, look down the little corridor at the figure scurrying into the room and, wanting to create something of a welcoming environment for someone entering their previously private room to now find it occupied, take the initiative and say hello. I not only get no reply, but this person glares at me with deep malevolence and silently continues down the corridor. ‘Oh,’ I think, slightly taken aback. If she’s not happy at me being here, wait till she sees the other bed. She’s fully in the room now and Maja’s also awake. ‘Hello,’ Maja offers. Again, silence. This person seems to have come in here under the impression we’ve broken into her very own private house and are sleeping on her couch having helped ourselves to her leftovers from last night, possibly kicking her dog while we were at it. Look missy, this is a shared room containing six beds. Or did you not quite get the concept when you booked in? ‘Don’t you speak?’ I ask at some attempt to break what is strangely starting to look like tension around here. ‘I have a zoom meeting,’ she barks out into the air at something or someone out there. Fine. ‘And where’s my bag?’ she snaps sharply. Maja points next to this girl’s bed and without acknowledgement she goes and picks it up and puts it somewhere else.

Did she say she has a zoom meeting? In here? In a six bed room in a hostel? I do hope she’s not expecting us to sit or lie here in silence while she conducts that. Or at least, if she did have that hope, it may well have been accommodated with just the slightest of courtesies anyone should be able to expect in this kind of setting. But no. Sorry. She’s just been plain rude and ignorant. Actually, try downright hostile. So when she does actually begin a call for which she clearly expects silence to be observed from her underlings, minions and general inferiors in life, I go across to lie down with Maja and the two of us begin to talk. Not loudly or overtly, just normal bedroom level that we somehow deem ourselves the right to have. We really haven’t read the rules or received the memo. Charm girl makes a big show of telling her zoom contact she has to go somewhere else, loudly packs up her computer and, in something of a pique, huffs out of the room, leaving me and Maja breathless with a mixture of laughter and total confusion. We stay there for another half hour or so until the door opens again, our new best friend walks in, sees us there, glares in full, eviscerating disapproval and turns and storms back out again. 

She’s back around five minutes later, this time accompanied by a friend and the pair of them start gathering all her things. This ‘friend’ is actually an employee of this place but I don’t discover that until later. I make the clearly stupid mistake of trying to say hi to him and get the same silent treatment she dished out. Not to be intimidated at all, I get up out of bed, dressed only in underpants – yes, very deliberately but I do immediately get dressed in front of the two of them – and I say to him, like I said to her earlier, ‘Do you not talk either?’ He turns to me in with what he hopes is a withering look and snarls, ‘I don’t have to talk to you.’ Whatever. I wonder if all the staff in here are so courteous to guests. Along with Maja I just watch them pack up and leave while the girl says something about having a train to catch. I can’t help myself here and go all faux friendly, wishing her a very happy journey and telling her we will miss her greatly. Oh, if only I could adequately capture in words the gravity of the eye roll this attracts. I’m sure some kind of head muscle must get pulled executing such a manoeuvre. Well, she’s gone now, she ain’t coming back and really, the very best of riddance. What a horrendous person. And what a terrible, unprofessional employee. Unless she told him something about us that really didn’t happen. So, to repeat, what a totally horrendous person it’s just been our misfortune to have to have been put in a room with. Well, she’s gone now to continue to be miserable to herself and inflict that misery on any other unfortunates she happens to encounter today and the rest of forever.

Maja:

I wish I could say that Mark’s account was over the top, that it didn’t happen quite like that, but I can’t. Every single word is true and even expressed quite lightly compared to how it really felt. So I’ll write my account of the situation as well.

Entering the room there were things scattered around everywhere. Wet clothes hanging in the entryway, underwear in the shower, bags and small stuff on every little surface in the room. Clothes on every chair except for the one next to another bed which had a suitcase on it. And of course padlocks on all suitcases and on the locker. Clothes hanging on the rail to her bed meaning no-one could really use the bed under hers. And of course, her things completely dominated the one table in the room. And in we come, with all of our luggage that we’ve struggled to carry all the way up to the room. When we’ve finally got everything in, the only thing I touch of hers is a suitcase on a chair next to the bed I’ve chosen. I move it across the room and put it next to what is clearly her bed. Now I wish I’d taken all of her stuff and put it on her bed and poured a bucket of water on it. That would have been appropriate for her level of rudeness and hostility. Maybe.

Well, I can understand that during covid she might not have been expecting company in the room, so I was very respectful moving about in the area. Not that I did much, because both me and Mark immediately fell asleep of exhaustion after moving in our luggage. Then when she comes back I wake up to the sound of the door and Mark saying hello. She takes a couple of steps into the room and I say hello. I mean, it’s a new roommate, let’s be friendly. But I am met by the most horrifying stare of my life.  She looks at me with such vile disgust that you would have thought I’d killed her cat. They are eyes of pure hatred. I am completely taken aback. It feels awful. Her first words come out in a forced, spiteful, accusatory bark. ‘Where’s my bag?’ I point to her bed where it is clearly visible. If she’d not stopped to be rude she would have walked right into it. She then sits at the table, takes out her computer and announces that she has a zoom meeting. Oh, OK. What kind of strange behaviour is this?

Why would you check into a six bed dorm room expecting to be alone? Why do you think that this is your office? How can you hate someone just for being allocated the same room as you? How can you now expect me to respect your meeting when you treated me with hatred? When I was asleep in MY BED?

I have no idea what this woman thinks when Mark comes into my bed a little while later and we talk to each other for two reasons. One, to simply annoy her if we’re to be totally honest, and two, to genuinely try to lighten up the terrible mood that she brought into the room. I’m glad we did, because she keeps looking at us like we killed her cats and dogs and everything else that she holds dear. If she knows how to hold things dear, that is. Come on, we’re not even doing anything bad, I think to myself as she keeps making distraught noises. These soon stop as she makes a big show of giving up, tossing her computer back into the bag and storming out of the room. 

This makes me and Mark start to giggle. Wow. What a jerk. I’ve never experienced such horrid, completely undeserved behaviour. It actually makes me want to get up. Absolutely shaken, we walk around the room, talking about this horrible experience in disbelief. Well, she’d been doing laundry, and we kinda need to do some as well. So I take a shower and start to hand-wash a couple of our items, hanging them all over the room as she did. Just to annoy her when she comes back. I make sure that we take up just as much space as she did so that it feels a little more fair. It’s not her room to own, and she is not allowed to mess with me. Nah ah ah. No way. I’m getting my revenge by pettiness. I’m doing laundry, which I needed to do anyway. And I’ll move her stuff a little bit to the side to fit ours in. Which is completely normal behaviour I normally wouldn’t think twice about doing, but it is certainly going to tick someone like her completely off. After moving around for a while, I’m starting to feel tired again and fall asleep next to Mark only to wake a little later to a similar experience all over again. 

What I hear is the door opening, and then slamming shut but no one enters the room. A couple of minutes later she comes armed with a male companion of sorts. We try to say hello, but are met with absolute silence. This is making us both angry and I can feel a sense of helplessness bubbling up inside of me combined with frustration. Mark approaches and asks the man, ‘Don’t you talk either?’ He abruptly says, ‘I don’t have to talk to you.’ What in the world is happening? How can you behave like this? These people seem sober, and there is literally no explanation for what’s happening. I don’t understand. I feel underdressed and vulnerable without anyone caring about what had happened from my point of view. Once again it happened when I was asleep, and I’m not especially quick up. They soon remove all of her objects with which I am helping and pointing things out and there’s been a word about her catching a train. I wish her a nice trip and am extremely polite. What a ridiculous lie I think as soon as I hear it. Well, OK. What a horrible experience. After they’ve left we’re alone again. Well, at least it’s nice to get rid of her, we agree.

I go to the toilet and realise that the hostel hasn’t even filled up our toilet paper. We’re out and I need to go to the reception to ask for more. When I get to reception, I recognise that very same guy who was in our room just now. I ask him for toilet paper and then I take the opportunity to try to inquire about what just happened. He looks troubled. I tell him that we literally did nothing and that she just came into our room while we were sleeping and was really rude. And then she just moved out. As I ask ‘What happened, what did we do?’ he just looks at me with disgust and says, ‘I’m not supposed to talk about this but that is very different to her story.’ And he gives me a toilet roll and refuses to tell me anything more. What a jerk. It seems like she has made up all kinds of lies to this man about how awful we’ve been, and now he refuses to show any interest in our side of the story. I can’t defend myself. I can’t even get to know what lies she told about us. There is nothing I can do, and it feels awful. I hate this unfriendly place. This is the most unprofessional kind of behaviour being shown by a member of staff of the hostel. 

Going back up to Mark, I completely distraughtly tell him what’s just happened, and that I  really want to go somewhere else. But at least now we kind of know that no one else is going to come and stay in our room. Why would they put someone in here now after believing whatever horrible things that girl says we did?

The Berlin Diary, day 16

Day 16

Friday December 17

Maja:

We’re really tired today, but we now have the room for ourselves so we’re able to sleep and get as much rest as possible. We need to make ourselves a little bit fresher in preparation for the gig on Sunday. I don’t really fancy a new move so we decide that this place is going to have to do until the end of our trip here in Berlin even though it is unfriendly and we don’t really like being here. So, while Mark is having a stretching session, I go out to buy some padlocks in case we get any more horrible roommates. We try to let go of the anger and frustration we feel and just go about our day. Part of this is that we really need to rehearse for our gig at Artliners on Sunday. We rewrite a part of All Kinds Of Wonderful as well. I’m impressed that we’ve managed to get so far as to run through a couple of songs and even do a rewrite with such an uneasy feeling in our chests. 

Right. Time to endure and actually try to make the best of the situation. ‘Mark, can you go down to extend our stay for a couple of days?’

Mark:

All lightness and innocence, I go down to reception today to extend our stay. The place has been quiet as anything, we know Berlin is on its last days before closing for Christmas so this is a mere formality. But no, I’m told when I make my enquiry. Sorry. The whole place is booked up. You have to check out tomorrow. There’s just no way. No way at all. This girl has clearly accused us of something quite unforgivable and without even the slightest attempt at discovering our side of the story – we wouldn’t have a side, there is no story – management has decided to just kick us out. Oh well. We’ll take that as our little side order as rock’n’rollers on tour. Being asked to leave the hotel. That’s how it’s supposed to go, right? I could say we now go and smash the place up like you’re supposed to as rabble rousing musicians, but there’s no need because the management here has done quite a good job of doing that themselves. Nothing is quite right in the place. So many things are just a little bit broken or a little bit off. Like the reception area itself. Dark and dingy and very unwelcoming. Silent staff almost whispering to each other as they sit darkly awaiting the next intake. And, as it goes in hospitality, the mood is set by the staff. So the guests equally wander about in cowed silence, barely speaking to or acknowledging each other in this air of benign repression. Maja homes in laser like towards the one huge indicator of everything that’s not quite right about this place – Industriepalast incase you’d forgotten. There’s a pool table here and no-one’s used it once since we got here despite the fact that the balls sit invitingly right there in reception. The pool table is the one sure place where strangers everywhere find common ground as they good naturedly challenge each other and then get to know each other. But no. As we’ve discovered. Here at the Industriepalast, strangers aren’t allowed to talk to each other. Even the employees will duly glare at paying guests with total hostility and state, ‘I don’t have to talk to you.’ Do you really think we actually wanted to stay here beyond our booked time? For the convenience of it, sure. But for every other reason, we’re really quite relieved that decision has been taken out of our hands. Onto the next place.

The Berlin Diary, day 17

Day 17

Saturday December 18

Maja:

We need to check out today, and so we need another place to spend the night. I found another hotel/hostel where I booked a double room for us so we’ll eliminate the risk of drama and so we can enjoy the last couple of days here in Berlin. It’s called 36 Rooms Kreutzberg and check-in opens at 3 PM. Perfect. Checkout here is at 10 AM so I leave Mark in the reception while I go fetch my car that is parked a couple of minutes away. As I return, I find Mark and our friend Mattheus sitting on the sofa chatting. Oh, how nice. He is a saxophonist playing all around and has just returned from Hamburg checking in to Industripalast as a replacement for PLUS hostel. We have a great catchup as he helps us load the car full with our bags. It’s crammed with equipment and there’s only space for two in there so we have to say goodbye. I hope we’ll meet again soon.

Me and Mark now have time to drive around for a while until check in, so we do and enjoy the views and history of Berlin from out of the car window. It’s a spectacular city.

A little after 3pm we arrive at our new place and drag all of our luggage into the hotel and to the bottom of a staircase while I go to check us in. I tell the receptionist that we have a lot of luggage and she gives me a worried look as she explains that they have no elevator and the available room closest to ground level is on the third floor. Oh my. I guess we have to carry everything. I get back out to Mark and tell him that we’re on the third floor. Ok great he says as we start to carry our bags up the stairs. We leave most of it waiting at the bottom as we start with what we can carry. We go up one flight and there’s a door. Then two more and there’s another door. Then two more and there’s a door saying floor one. Then two more and we’re at floor two. And then after the last two we’re finally at floor three. Our floor. We’re both sweating and panting. This can’t be true. We’re not on floor three, we’re on floor five. They’re only counting floors with bedrooms in their numbering system. And there’s no elevator. 

I don’t even know how we manage to get the luggage up to the room but we have to, so we do. 

Well in the room there’s barely space to stand next to the double bed. But it’s nice to be by ourselves and we enjoy it briefly before heading out for a bite. 

When we return back home we feel excited about the gig at the Artliners tomorrow, and the move here has been tiring so we look forward to a good night’s sleep.  

Well.

That doesn’t really happen. 

The waterbed mattress is way too soft and moveable, every movement Mark makes tosses me around like a leaf on a pond, which in turn increases his movement and so on, and so he wakes up too, and it just isn’t possible for either of us to relax that way. 

And curse the room that’s too small to even lie down on the floor. The reception isn’t staffed until 10 O’clock in the morning because of covid, so there’s no hope of a room exchange until morning. There’s nothing we can do. 

Mark:

I’ve never seen Maja as desperate as she is at three in the morning. She’s not slept for one minute and can’t see any way she’s going to be able to. Desolate isn’t even the word. Rather than enjoying a relaxing night, she’s fighting back tears and the tears are winning. What the hell can we do about this? To be fair, I’m feeling it a bit as well but I think I’m more or less OK with it. But she definitely isn’t. In an extreme move she decides to sleep on the floor. In a hotel. She doesn’t do too well with that either and I soon say that I’ll sleep on the floor and she can try the bed without two of us in it making shaky movements; we can’t even both sleep on the floor because there’s only room for one person down there in this tiny room. That only works just a little more with Maja just about making it solo on the bed. But not really. She even leaves during the night, saying she’s going to go and sit in the kitchen and try to write so she can at least get something out of this night. 

Eight in the morning rolls round and we’ve both been totally awake all night. And after taking it all easy for the past few days to give ourselves the best chance to freshen up for our show tonight. Well, this has been just about the worst preparation possible.

Maja:

I don’t get any writing done. I’m far too stressed for that and just end up watching Youtube videos to pass the time. When the clock turns around to morning and neither of us sees any kind of possibility of getting to sleep we feel more and more desperate. How will we be able to pull off a gig without being able to sleep? How will I be able to sing and put on a show if I’ve not been able to sleep? I have no choice but to accept this reality.

The Berlin Diary, day 18

Day 18

Sunday December 19

Maja:

I am watching the clock for when the reception opens and when they do, I go down and beg them for a room change. To a room with a real mattress. We don’t get that, but the cleaners do offer to change mattresses, giving us one from another room. Perfect. That was all we really wanted. It also means we don’t have to carry everything again to change rooms. Problem solved. Now we’re going to be able to sleep tonight, but the damage is already done, and we are going to have to perform with me having spent the majority of the night rolling around sleepless and sitting in the kitchen watching youtube. I just hope I’m able to put on a show. 

Mark:

So much for taking much of the past week off to rehearse, chill and make sure we were fully prepared and ready for tonight’s show. It’s almost 11 O’Clock in the morning and we still pretty much haven’t slept yet. But we do at least have an acceptable bed now and we fully intend to use it. I must say here that we attach no blame to 36 Rooms Hostel. The waterbed was in the room in all good faith and I’m sure many people love and venerate them. We’re just clearly not among their number and we only discovered that when we were given one to sleep on. In fact, when we first discovered it was a waterbed, we were a little bit giddy over the novelty and thought it was a great idea. Until last night happened and we got to see and experience the thing up close.

We have to be at Artliners by around 5:30 which is a 40 minute walk away. Mercifully we don’t have to take any of our gear; this is our first fully organised gig complete with stage, full sound setup, sound engineer, host, and lineup of other acts. And it will all be livestreamed. Which means that just about everything on here is a first for Maja, including playing on such a raised stage. Everything we’ve done in Berlin we’ve either hustled ourselves or it’s been open mic. She’s never played an organised gig before.

Now, this 5:30 arrival time is fine. It gives us a leave time of 4:50 or something like that. Normally that would be a perfectly relaxed schedule but not at all when you’re essentially getting to bed at 11am. We set the alarm for 4pm and when it goes off it really feels like we’re being forced to get up in the middle of the night, or at the very least it feels like a horribly early morning alarm call. Ridiculous. All we have to do is get up, go for a walk and play a gig. Hardly Monday morning blues contemplating heading off to the factory or the office. But at the same time, it’s not at all the preparation we were hoping for what we consider to be the biggest and most important gig of our whole time in Berlin. And the last one for this trip. We really have felt that everything we’ve been doing has been leading up to this, we did our very best to prepare for it, and now we’re barely able to get out of bed to face up to the walk to the place.

But we do, and our very first stop once we’re out on the street is to find a shop and stock up on energy drinks. Now we’re ready.

When we arrive, we finally meet Yvonne, our contact there, and she’s delighted to see us and says we’re there in perfect time. We are also greeted by Tom Lee, the host for the evening. No-one else is here yet. They start to trickle in over the next half hour. The members of Primark The Band, Berlin based but from the UK, the sound engineer, and a few people Tom will be playing with tonight. He will be opening the show, compering it, and playing the final set of the night after the two guests have played, the guests being ourselves and Primark The Band. We’ve got the most simple setup so it’s decided we’ll play first, once Tom has done his opening thing.

Primark The Band do their soundcheck, then it’s our turn. Up to now we’ve done very cursory soundchecks based around Maja singing nonsensical stuff while I strum random chords, just to find our levels. But in the past few days we’ve spoken about this and decided we need a different approach. This concluded in us deciding to use our own songs for soundchecks in the future. We’re able to do this now because we now have enough songs in our repertoire that we won’t play all of them in any given gig. And also because we’ve kinda left A Listing behind having admitted that it just hasn’t really hit the spot anywhere. That and All That I Can Be. But A Listing is a particularly good soundcheck song because it contains so many dynamics. We get a little worried about this when Primark The Band is soundchecking as they keep getting asked to turn down. This is The Lazy Sunday Session afterall. The difference between them and us is that they have a much fuller setup of electric guitar, bass and drums, but even so, they don’t seem that loud. When we get up, I suggest to Maja that we launch straight into the hardest part of A Listing to see where that fits into this venue’s volume requirements. We smash it out as loud as we can and no-one says a thing. That’s a really cool discovery; where a full band would be told to turn down, at our loudest we’re still perfectly OK.

Soundcheck over and everyone can chill now and just wait for showtime and for the audience to all turn up. By the time that audience has turned up, we’re able to see the capacity of this place in Corona times. I’m sure it’s been totally filled out on plenty of occasions, but that can’t happen anymore. Instead, everyone has to be sat down which means a few tables around the dancefloor at the front are occupied but that’s it down at stage level. Everyone else is behind the camera, which is on the centre of the dancefloor, and in the main bar area, all seated on stools around tables, or sat at the bar itself. This means that only the people at the front get the full effect, and in the past that probably meant a lot of people. But these are the times we’re in and it’s great that we’ve just been able to keep playing, right the way up to our very last scheduled show in Berlin.

Just before it all starts, we’re thrilled when our own little social gang turns up to do us proud. Cintia, Eric and Mattheus. They’re all here and we find a lovely table near the back to all hang out around. Now we’re ready. And here’s Tom to kick it all off. 

He’s a very seasoned performer and has toured all over the world, so it’s no surprise that he delivers a very slick, polished set which is still perfectly rough enough to feel lively and edgy. When he’s done, he announces that it’s time for The Diaries from Ireland on their European tour, here for their first show in Artliners.

Maja:

It’s time. I step up on stage with a slight feeling of nervousness and excitement. This is hands down the biggest stage I’ve been on so far, and to be honest with you, the only real stage I’ve been on apart from some school performances and similar things I did as a kid. On our other shows there have been stages at times, but nothing as dedicated and fancy as this. It’s very raised, there’s not as much space to move around in that you might think, and the stage lighting feels scorching hot on my skin. I position myself as far forward as I can and I’m struck by how far away the audience feels. It’s a peculiar feeling and I’m not sure if they can really hear me that great all the way over to the other side of the bar. I’m feeling a little isolated up here on the stage with all the light on me. This show is more for the camera that’s filming the live feed, and cameras have a tendency of not giving especially good feedback in the moment. But we’re on and it’s time to put on a show. 

As we start it’s clear to see that the crowd is getting into it more and more, and we get some great reactions to songs such as I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) and Insanity. The crowd is really getting into it, and it feels good to perform. I’m not really used to hearing myself in the way that this soundsystem works; I can hear myself clearer than I’ve ever done before, so that ought to be good. We have a sound engineer managing the sound so I don’t have to, which is one less thing for me to think about. Overall it is a fun stage to be on, and we get through our set without too many issues. I have a timer next to me so we can keep an eye on that and not run over our allocated time, and everything is going quite alright. The set holds and we’ll have time for all of the songs we plan to play. The crowd seems to be moderately into it, which is as good as you can get when you’re the first band out and the crowd is still sober and very far away. As we finish our third to last song, Tom tells us “One more song guys” and our hearts drop. I can see it as clearly in Mark’s eyes as I feel it in my chest. Couldn’t you have warned us when there were two left? Then we could have just gone for the two last songs in our set that we had left as big finish songs and scrapped the third to last song. But that didn’t happen. We’re here now and we need to finish off this show. Me and Mark look at each other and in that moment we both know and say simultaneously, Rock ‘n’ Roll Tree. And we just smash it out. It’s intense and fun and I let out all the last energy I have in me. 

As we take our gear down and Primark The Band get up on stage we get some really heartfelt compliments. The bassist Meray says to me directly that she loved our show, and I just melt inside. Thank you so much. And then the night as rock stars begins. It feels like everyone is here, and we sit with our friends from the hostel that have come all the way to see us tonight and just enjoy the atmosphere. People talk to us and it feels great. After a while Mark comes and drags me to look and see behind the bar and points. ‘Look at that,’ he says. I do but I have no idea of what I’m supposed to be looking at until Mark says, ‘See they’ve pinned our card behind the bar.’ Oh yeah, they have. And he continues ‘Have a look and see what other cards they have pinned.’ Ehm, no I don’t. There are no other cards there. I look confused. ‘Exactly.’

The Berlin Diary, day 19

Day 19

Monday December 20

Mark:

We wake to a whole new Berlin. It’s over. All done. We’ve finished.

Maja:

All done. Yes. Amazing to prove that we can do this. Amazing to know it can be done. Amazing to have this experience.

We have done Berlin. Incredible.

Mark:

No more gigs to play, no more hustling to be done, no more rehearsing. It’s day off today and then we’re off tomorrow to go chill in Malmö, Sweden over Christmas and New Year during which time we plan to consolidate our sound and set and decide and plan where to go next. Prague has the nod right now, but we’re well aware Covid Europe could yet close in around us. Let’s see how it goes. For now, we’re just going to make the most of our last day in Berlin, which means going full tourist.

We get on a train and head out towards the Brandenburg Gate. 

Maja:

I just stand there, at where the wall once was in front of the mighty Brandenburg Gate. To think that this very spot once upon a time was impassable. I look over west Berlin all the way to the victory monument seeing the tank road that Hitler built. I have my back towards east Berlin thinking of the times where west was the ultimate unattainable free country for the easterners. It feels immense to think that it was impossible to pass through this very place that I’m standing on right now. Here people walk through east to west and from west to east all the time right next to me. If you didn’t know about this place, there’s no way you would know the importance of this very spot I am standing on. So I walk back and forth on the line where I imagine that the wall stood. I don’t feel like I can cross to the other side just yet. I want to think about it a bit more. Breathe in the feelings of the place. It’s almost like I can taste the importance of this very spot. And I breathe in, look at the monument and then I decide. It’s time for me to go to the other side. And I walk into east Berlin.

Mark:

As well as a walk through the gate, we decide we might have a look at the Checkpoint Charlie museum. But we haven’t done our Corona tests for the day. No problem, there’s a mobile test centre right there. With that, we go and do what will from now on forever be known as the Charlie Swab. Negatives produced and we head into the museum where we discover entry is just short of 15 euro. Not gonna happen. No worries. This whole place is a living, breathing museum so we go check that out instead, including a large outdoor space full of stories of escapes from east to west in the days before it all came down in 1989. The stand out for me is the story of an unnamed 20 year old who totally seized the day and the moment in a way few people could ever imagine and I think he’s instantly become my new hero. Almost a posterboy for The Diaries. Just jump. Just do it. Sometimes the window of opportunity opens and closes so quickly that by the time you’ve decided to climb through it, it’s already gone. Things really can happen in the splittest of split seconds, and then disappear as though they were never there and that’s that. Well, this guy was just going about his daily business and walking past the checkpoint when he noticed a bus was slowly going through and all the guards were on the other side of it. There may have been some hesitation and deliberation but if there was, it clearly couldn’t have been much. With zero planning and nothing on him but the clothes on his back and whatever may or may not have been in his pockets, he fell into step beside the bus and simply walked into the west, hidden from sight as the bus slowly made its way through the checkpoint. The ultimate lesson in opportunism and willingness to take whatever’s on the other side when you get there. Sometimes it’s enough just to get there and take care of everything else later. We’ve been walking around Berlin for the past few weeks and of course, like everywhere else, it’s full of people of all ages. Whenever I meet someone of a certain age, I wonder what life was like for them in the days before, during and after. And I also wonder if any of them have their own stories of escape. And while I’m here, it’s worth wondering if this guy still lives in Berlin and if we’ve been in his presence, if only for a fleeting instant while crossing each others’ paths in the street. This is exactly what I mean. Surrounded by history.

Mark:

It’s almost time to go home, but there’s just one more thing left to do. Go swing by Fargo, see Lenny, fill him in on what we’ve done and tell him our plans. When we arrive he’s busy catching up on admin but he’s enthusiastic and we say a quick hello and tell him that we wanted to stop and say hi and bye before leaving tomorrow. But we also wanted to say that we will be back sometime in the next few months, and back with more experience. He’s delighted to hear it and we leave him to get on with his bits and pieces while we go and hang out a little deeper in the bar. While it’s only a Monday night, the place is still busy with enough of a buzz to keep things going. Me and Maja take our time to warm up, realising only now just how cold we’ve been pretty much all day. Strange how you can feel perfectly comfortable with all this sometimes and then feel it so intensely as soon as you stop. We were only planning on having the one and saying hello but it soon becomes clear that we really don’t feel like braving the outside world again anytime soon. Jackets come off and we settle into the evening, which includes reliving some of our favourite parts of our time in Berlin and reflecting on what we’ve achieved in the two and so weeks we’ve been fully active here. This includes four full shows, two hostel shows and four open mics. And that’s before you consider the whole load of hustling we’ve done which has opened up venues for us to return to on the other side. And we haven’t even begun to explore the Irish bar route I so carefully put together on the night I was alone here before Maja arrived. So we have that to explore as well. We’ve not done too badly on the tourist stuff either. Yep. I think you can say we’ve done Berlin as much as we could have hoped to have done it. And we’ve done all this during a Corona time when many people were doubting our wisdom to even come.

After a while, Lenny closes his admin bits and pieces and signals us to come over and join him. We do, and now we make a cosy little threesome right at the corner of the bar which we now see has a sign: ‘Fargo ultras only.’ Wow. Welcomed to the inner sanctum. We sit there and chat with Lenny, who regales us with his Berlin bar stories and his own musical adventures – he’s a guitar player, so we were right that he had a good feeling for this stuff. As we wander deeper into the evening and he also hears more about us, our short and intense history and our plans, every now and then a Fargo regular stops by to have a hello with him, and then says hello to us and we end up in conversation there as well. This is how it works. Once you’re in a bar and chatting to known people, everyone else around will start to give you the time of day and more as well. And when you’re hanging with the boss, well the kudos and instant acceptance are only that much stronger. This is only the first time we’ve ever really sat down and spoken to Lenny but it feels like we’ve done it loads of times. The vibe is so comfortable. After a while longer, he says, ‘You guys are going to go out and get a lot more experience I can see. You’re going to come back to Berlin stronger and better for it. Call me when you’re back. I think we’ll be able to work something out.’ With that we suddenly feel a far deeper connection to Berlin and to Fargo. We also feel that we could really do something here and that it really could be a very cool musical home for us. To have this kind of welcome now is remarkable and beyond what we could have hoped for when we set out. For us, the coolest bar in Friedrichshain, which is the most happening area of Berlin. And here we are, deep in it. If we thought we might have created a Berlin to come back to before, we truly know that we have now. 

The Sweden Diary, day one to fifteen

Day 1

Tuesday December 21

Mark:

Another day another pack up and go as we prepare to leave Berlin. All the way down five flights of stairs. Yes people, we’re on the fifth floor, not the third as advertised. It is a really big job to get everything out of the room, onto the landing, then get it all the way down the stairs to the courtyard, through the hostel, out onto the street and then finally across the road to the car. Back and repeat. Now it’s a three hour drive to Rostock for the six hour ferry to Trelleborg. And from there, just a 25 minute hop to our housesitting apartment in Malmö. On the boat we manage to claim just the best spot, a full on couch at the front facing out onto the open ocean for a wonderfully relaxing trip.

In Malmö and it’s out for a lovely evening with our hosts and Maja’s longstanding friends. 

Maja:

I am so happy to be able to meet Adrian again. Adrian is my homie, my friend that I treasure beyond the world. I am absolutely delighted about meeting him. He is one of the very few people in the world I feel completely relaxed being with. We meet way too rarely since we’ve been living far away from each other for the better part of our adult lives, but everytime we meet we both treasure it and it feels like we’ve never been apart. We’ve decided that me and Mark will house-sit his and his girlfriend’s apartment while they are visiting their families for christmas and new years. It’s a perfect match; we get somewhere nice to stay with all amenities you miss in a hostel while we rest up for our next adventure, and they have someone to take care of their house so they won’t have to worry about burglars or anything. And I guess they just want to be a bit nice to us which is greatly appreciated. 

When we arrive we share a wonderful meal of their favourite local dish of falafel and then continue along to the local brewery for some beer tasting and gossip.

Malmö, we’ve arrived! 

Day 2

Wednesday December 22

Mark:

We have this place for the next nine days, leaving on January 1, to where we still don’t know, but probably Prague. With New Year on the horizon and the traditionally quiet subsequent days and weeks, we don’t expect anything to be happening there for a while either, so are envisaging a week to ten days of just getting our bearings and rehearsing, possibly identifying a venue or two around the town and maybe even speaking to some of them if we can. But for now, we’re going to just totally take it easy for a day or two before we set ourselves up to begin rehearsals and consolidation.

Maja:

As a university student I used to live in Lund, the next town over, so I know the area quite well. I was a student at Lunds University where I got my masters degree in Computer Science and Engineering. So this place is very familiar to me. I really look forward to taking Mark to Lund one day and just walk around there and show him all the places. After graduating I got my first job in Lund as well and lived there for another couple of years. I pretty much went back and forth between Japan and Lund, living in both places to and forth for that time period. Lund to me is the place I was living in when I turned from a kid to an adult. I’m originally from Stockholm, but I haven’t spent that much time in Stockholm as an adult, so I am very excited about showing Mark my adopted city. The city that I first made my own. 

Day 3

Thursday December 23

Mark:

I wake with a song idea and get right to it. Six Sense Lover begins. Before Maja’s even up for breakfast I have a pre-chorus, chorus and what I think will be a second verse. More lyrics that fit the form get written during breakfast, then we’re back to it properly shortly afterwards. By a little time after midday we have a first draft of a full song. Later on, thinking it needs a little more, we return to it and add that little more. Now it feels done.

With that, we take ourselves out shopping for Christmas supplies.

Day 4

Friday December 24

Mark:

It’s Swedish Christmas this year which is celebrated on the 24th, not the 25th as I’ve always known it. So Maja’s in charge for a full Christmas dinner spread of small dishes, almost Spanish tapas style. Brilliant. After that, it’s the main event which I’ve heard a lot about. The whole of the country stops apparently to watch what is essentially a one hour advert for Disney as we’re taken through the years all the way back to the beginning and right up to the latest releases. Got to admit, it’s really good fun watching cartoons like this and hearing well known Disney characters speak Swedish.

And yes, it really, truly feels like Christmas. 

Maja:

Merry Christmas. This is my first Christmas ever away from my family, and it is with a strong feeling of sadness that I prepare the traditional dishes. But at least I’m not alone and it is really fun to introduce all the fun little traditions to Mark.

I serve him the traditional ansjovis potato gratin (Janssons Frestelse), oven baked mustard ham (Julskinka), boiled potatoes with pickled fish (Sill), and some smoked salmon. And of course, Mark loves the Janssons Frestelse the most. He is a fishy guy that Mark. 

To me it feels good to at least have the traditional food, when I can’t go visit my family for christmas. At least I give them all a call. 

Day 5

Saturday December 25

Mark:

Today is just Saturday. Christmas has happened. Now, finally feeling somewhat rested and more alert than we have for a while, we get properly stuck into Diary writing for the first time since getting here.

Day 6

Monday December 27

Mark:

We haven’t been out of the apartment since Thursday. So it really is time for us to get out and have a proper look at this coastal city for the first time. It’s a big enough place with a population of around 350,000, and a lovely shopping square leading to the main town which is dominated by the Triangeln shopping centre. All this is less than ten minutes walk from the apartment which sits right on the edge of the main district. Sales are underway and the streets are bustling but freezing cold. You really don’t want to stay outside too long, so indoor shopping centre it is. Once in there, you feel like you could be anywhere. 

Day 8

Wednesday December 29

Maja:

I can’t believe I’m getting properly sick. Again. I’m so incredibly sick of being sick. It feels like I’m sick all the time. And now it feels like I’m catching something really bad. I need to call Adrian and tell him. It’s with a feeling of embarrassment that I call him. There’s really no way around it. I am house-sitting and turning very ill. I think that I may have Covid. If I do, they won’t be able to go home when they need to. I feel so bad about that. Well, I need to make the phone call. So I do, and both Adrian and his girlfriend are incredibly understanding. They even have Covid tests in a drawer, so both me and Mark test ourselves with a complete conviction that they’re going to show up positive. They’re not. Both are negative. I’m not quite sure if I’m supposed to be relieved or not at the result. But the tests are antigen tests and the covid variant Omicron that is everywhere now isn’t showing up on the antigen tests that often. So it could still be covid. But maybe, just maybe, it’s just a cold and I’ll be back on my feet in a couple of days.

Mark:

We need to look at this in a bit more detail, but from what we can tell right now, Corona restrictions may well be starting to drive us east. We’d already decided on Prague as our next destination and were thinking of heading back into Germany after that, possibly Hamburg. But as we start to catch up on the news, harder travel restrictions are being put in place all over western Europe, especially Germany. Some eastern countries are looking, on the face of it, like they might be better for us. We’ll be leaving on Saturday so we really have to start making this decision now.

But today we begin to have something else to think about. Maja’s feeling ill. For now I feel OK but this really doesn’t look good.

Day 9

Thursday December 30

Mark:

We have to accept the tour is over. At least for now. The Corona situation in Europe is worse than we thought and travel just about everywhere is looking prohibitive. Oh well. We always knew this could happen so we’ll just be happy that at least we managed to get Berlin and show just what we could do if we only gave ourselves the chance. But as well as the tour ending here and now, symptoms of some kind or other are starting to hit both of us now. And that’s along with a heavy tiredness that started in Berlin and which neither of us has been able to shake. With all that going on, we haven’t been able to get rehearsal done at all and we really thought that would be a big part of this week or so off the road. It’s time to consider options. Are we just going to go back home to Ireland? As we’re seriously starting to consider this, the possibility of an apartment in Stockholm comes up which would be available to us until at least some time in February. Which means we could stay on the mainland of Europe and ride this out in Sweden. Which would mean we would still be on mainland Europe if and when things do open up again. It would be a long way to drive to Ireland and then to drive back out here again. Would we really do it? No idea. So yeah. We’re going to Sweden.

But wow, we really have threaded the tightest of needles. Looking back, our first show was in The Trap in Clara on November 6 and we declared ourselves ready, for the first time, to actually play a full show with all our own material on November 5. The day after the show, Maja flew to Sweden to have wrist surgery. Which meant that, factoring in recovery time, the very earliest she could drive to Berlin from Sweden was Wednesday December 1. Thursday saw us buying the equipment we needed that couldn’t be brought by plane which made Friday the first day we could try to actually play. Which we succeeded in doing, also playing a show the next day. From there, we had just over two weeks to tackle Berlin which we very much did until our last show on December 19, just as the whole city closed for Christmas, and now we’re looking at a Europe that has pretty much closed for Corona. From starting all this in earnest in May, we really did just make it into the very last two week period we could have played in, and we couldn’t possibly have been in Berlin a single day before we were. And while the tour might be over now, it’s so vitally important that we got at least Berlin in to demonstrate to ourselves that what we’re doing really can be done, and that our songs really can have the effect on audiences we were confident they could have. Yep. Eye of the European Corona needle. Wow. 

But for now, we have to take care of for now. Which means going and getting another test because we really don’t believe the negative result the home kit gave us. So we drive to a testing centre about 20 minutes away. On arrival, we see the queue is huge. And it’s cold, although at least not raining. But still. You’re sick, you have to go out and get tested, and in order to do that you have to wait out in the cold, and possibly the rain. It takes us two hours to get to the head of all this and briefly into the relatively warm refuge of the small, temporarily raised testing building. If we weren’t sick when we arrived, we probably are now. But no. We fit all the symptom profile but again, tested by professionals this time, once more we come out negative. What is going on? I’m just feeling a bit yucky but it’s getting stronger. Maja is just not good at all. Today really can’t have helped. But even today it still wasn’t a PCR test, just the normal 15 minute antigen test we did ourselves, just administered by professionals this time. We still don’t trust the result.

Maja:

It’s horrible. Everything is just horrible when you have to stand outside for 2 hours with a 40 degree fever.

We have to talk to Adrian about staying longer. I don’t think I can handle an eight hour drive in two days’ time. 

Day 10

Friday December 31

Mark:

New years is cancelled. And today is no holiday for us either. Maja has decided to book a PCR test. First thing in the morning. She wakes me and says, come on. We have to go now. Today’s testing centre just happens to be in Lund where Maja went to university and then spent the first few years of her professional life. We go and get her tested in a car park and try to get a test for me too but are told no. Fine. If Maja comes out positive, we’ll just assume I am too, although we’re kind of assuming all that right now anyway.

We’ve been meaning to come to Lund for me to get a look at this important place in Maja’s history and a drive round it today is really the best we’re going to get as it’s clear we’re both on our way to being sick by now so a bus ride and a walk around and a visit to any of Maja’s old favourite haunts really is not on. A drive round it is and I get to see Maja’s old apartment, all the university buildings that mean so much, and the office block where her professional life began. It all really adds context to see this part of her history so far away from London and what I know. There’s not much activity outside, but I really get a feel for this place as we drive through whole sections of the town dedicated to university buildings. And then a drive through the small town centre itself. But Maja is starting to struggle and we only just make it to the end of the tour when she says we really have to start the drive back now.

On this drive back, if we had any doubt, it becomes painfully clear that Maja cannot make the eight hour drive to Stockholm yet or any time soon. She gets home and heads straight to bed. I stay up and spend the rest of the day alternating between watching movies when she’s asleep and being in the room with her when she’s awake. As midnight approaches we hear fireworks outside and I go and have a look from the bedroom window. Yes, they can be seen all around in front of the apartment which is facing a large semi circular crescent. Nearby and beyond the buildings we can see, fireworks are being set off and can be seen exploding all around above the buildings. Maja forces herself up to come and join me at the window as we watch the intensity of the fireworks increase and count down the last 10 seconds of 2021. She was in Sweden for this last year and we counted down together while I was in London, an hour behind. This time we’re both in Sweden. The last second ticks down and 2022 arrives. Before the first minute of the new year is out, we’re both in bed. 

Maja:

I really struggle right now. Everything hurts, my fever just won’t go down no matter how many paracetamol I take, and I need to get my hands on a PCR test. When I wake up I once again open up the fully booked web system to see if there’s any new times available and I’m in luck. There’s one today. In Lund. But we need to leave now. I wake Mark up and force myself up and to the car. The parking space is a 10 minute walk away and there’s at least a 10 minutes drive on the highway to get to Lund. The drive isn’t fun, but I’m still quite alright. 

I’m quite happy that this enforced drive takes us all the way to Lund, because I’ve really wanted to show it to Mark. So after taking the PCR test, we drive around and I try to tell him a little bit about the town. I show him my school and office buildings and some buildings I’ve lived in. But it all is very forced and I have a hard time enjoying it. After only a very short drive around town, not much more than five minutes, I realise that I need to go to bed now. I can’t hold on much longer. Sightseeing is cancelled and I take the fastest route back home. As we’re on the highway I feel so bad that tears are running down my cheeks as I desperately try not to pass out. 

Well, back in bed and I don’t move until just before midnight when I get up to count down the new year with Mark and watch the fireworks. 

Happy new year.

Day 11

Saturday January 1

Mark:

I wake and realise this thing, whatever it is, has fully got me now. I get up and leave the room with vague intentions to write but soon realise, no. Can’t. I immediately go and join Maja back to bed. With the bedroom having an en suite, we will barely leave this room for the next two days. We already knew our hosts were going to stay away while we were sick. Today they tell us they won’t be here until at least next Saturday. Hopefully we can get well and get out of here and back to Stockholm by then.

Maja:

Mark’s got it too now. That’s not good. We’re both too sick to take care of each other or ourselves now. I can’t walk to the kitchen. It’s just too far away. We don’t attempt to eat for days. Our diet consists of tap water from the bathroom, two metres away, paracetamol in a desperate attempt to lower our fevers, and the odd cracker.

Day 12

Sunday January 2

Mark:

Maja’s PCR result comes back. Negative. So that’s that. Good news we suppose, but that doesn’t change the horrendous way we both feel; even a walk to the kitchen is an intimidating prospect beyond either of us right now.

Maja:

I don’t understand how the test could be negative, and I don’t believe it either. This is the worst I’ve felt in ages and Mark is just as bad. We can’t and won’t move at all. 

Day 13

Monday January 3

Today is the first day both wake up feeling somewhat OK but we don’t push it at all.

Day 14

Tuesday January 4

A good job we didn’t try to push it yesterday. We’re thinking we could consider leaving for Stockholm tomorrow but when we get up and try the lightest of household tasks, we soon collapse back in bed. Nope. This feeling good thing is just an illusion. Maybe if we take today as easy again, we can start to get things organised tomorrow with a view to maybe leaving on Thursday. 

Day 15

Wednesday January 5

We think we’re going to go have a last look at the town today but the weather closes in on us and it gets far too cold, wet, and not at all fun to be out. But still, we have made it out and walked a decent distance. We’re starting to feel ready to tackle things now. Back to the apartment and we start to get all our stuff together and tidy the place to make it look brand new, although we’ve kept it in pretty good shape this whole time. But yep. We’re definitely planning on leaving tomorrow.

The Sweden Diary, day 16 to 67

Thursday January 6 to February 25

Mark:

And we’re off. All packed and cleaned and out of the place by 11am and on the road to Stockholm. It barely takes any time at all to be on the motorway, and then this fast road will take us all the way there. Eight hours later we arrive. The apartment is up three flights of stairs, but this is nothing like the hostel situation we had in Berlin. It feels like a much shorter and more doable trip up and we’re soon done and all sorted. Set up at our new home for the next segment of whatever this is going to be.

So what is this going to be? Not much really. We have a look around but Stockholm feels like it really isn’t going to be anything worth playing so we decide we’re not even going to try. Instead, with the occasional excursion out we pretty much hunker down in the apartment waiting for Europe to open again. In that time we eventually recover fully from whatever was happening in Malmo and establish some kind of rehearsal pattern again but it takes a while.

Oh, and there’s the cold to get used to. The apartment’s fine, but venturing outside is a whole other thing. Some of the temperatures we encounter are the coldest I’ve ever experienced, with some days dipping below 14F (-10C) so into the double minus figures. Only a whole multitude of layers will see you through. But even then, when, one day, we bravely set off on something of a mild hike through the frozen local forest, we get to a stage where our legs are uncomfortably cold through our trousers. A common enough thing for Maja in these conditions, but something I’ve never experienced before. Night times – and are occasional forays out late on – could see drops of up to (down to) minus five fahrenheit (-20C). Quite ridiculous territory really, and not entirely fair. Maja takes all this in her stride. Literally, as she teaches me how to walk on frozen ground, which we have to do more often than not, especially as we often have vast fields to walk across. The trick is to kind of semi skate, or at least glide your feet forwards rather than lift them like you would when walking conventionally. It takes a little while, but I do somewhat get the hang of it and can at least pretend that I might belong here. A word on those fields. They get covered in snow, naturally enough. Then on a relatively mild day, that snow melts, totally waterlogging the place. But then, what is now water freezes and the whole vastness takes on the appearance of a frozen lake, or at the very least, a series of what now looks like frozen ponds. Amazing to look at and exhilarating to walk across, especially once you’ve mastered the art of the run and slide.  

Back in the apartment, and once we manage to properly get back to it we really work on ourselves and take our overall performance to a whole new level. We also manage to add a few new songs. Within these is the one we’ve been wanting to have for a long time – Beanie Love. This is based on a set of lyrics we wrote in the first few weeks of London after we had just met, and based on a mad, surreal conversation we had during that time which inspired those lyrics. We have lyrics all over the place in a dozen notebooks and every now and then, some of them turn into songs or have parts of them turn up in songs. Well, in Berlin we got the Beanie lyrics out and did something with them that we really felt had potential. During this downtime in Stockholm, we dust them off again and have a look at what we did in Berlin and get it fully into shape. With that, Beanie Love is done. Another one to mention that comes up during this Stockholm period is Fire. This is one that will continue to grow for a little while, but the basis of it is all there in that first flush. Among other pokes into the waters, we manage to have one quite spectacular evening when we write eight to ten songs one after another in a burst of inspiration and improvisation. A look at this a few days later shows that while none of them are total keepers, there are some interesting and workable ideas that may well be looked at closer. How many of them, or how many of their component parts, will pop up into anything keepable we have no idea, but the adage of songwriting is certainly being followed. Just keep writing. Just do it and the likelihood is that two things will happen. Good parts and good songs will be produced if by just the sheer weight of numbers and the probability of statistics. The second is that by the very act of doing it, you will continue to get better. Songwriting is a skill like any other that gets better with practice. It is true that anyone can get lucky and come up with a great song at anytime but, to slightly paraphrase the wonderful words of legendary golfer Gary Player, the harder you practice, the luckier you get. 

About that practice thing, we’ve really upped our game here and have been rehearsing in the most unforgiving manner – through headphones. This is kind of like what I’ve always imagined driving a super high performance car would be like. Get everything perfect, and boy does that thing fly and look super cool. But one little error and flying takes on a whole other meaning. Where we’re concerned, when everything is on and things sound good, it can be like listening to yourselves on the radio as you’re playing there in the moment. But conversely, if things are even slightly out in any way, boy do you know about it. And with everything going through our mixing desk into headphones, we’re also recording every rehearsal so are able to listen back. So even there, parts you thought might have sounded good, you sometimes discover really didn’t. Or, more to the point, don’t. We are putting the harshest of spotlights on ourselves here and really analysing and discovering so much. If you really, truly want to know where you are, and really truly want to up your level, there can be few better ways of doing it than this.

Into the last week of February and we’re coming to the end of our apartment’s availability just as Europe is tentatively starting to open up again. But at the same time, the Ukraine situation is showing real signs of deteriorating and we realise a Russian invasion could actually happen. So no way are we going east and driving towards a potential warzone. With that, we decide we’re not going to Prague which we’ve had in our plans since the beginning. We don’t want to return to Berlin, although while we’re here, a little word on that particular city. A few venues seem to have woken up as we’ve started to work our way into the new year, and have replied to our initial emails, sent before we left. They’re interested in hearing from us again the next time we’re there. Great. Add that to the little pile we’ve gathered of friendly Berlin venues. However, if we are to return, we don’t want to do that without having had a little more live experience first. We look at the map of western Europe and shortlist a few possibilities. After a little discussion, we settle on Hamburg. That’s it. We’re on again

The Hamburg Diary, day zero

Saturday February 26

Mark:

We did um and ah quite a lot before deciding on coming straight to Hamburg. We’re aware Corona restrictions are still in place and won’t be relaxed until next week, but we’ve thought it could be good to chill and get our bearings for a while, then when things do open up we can kind of hit the ground running so to speak.

We’ve only got two relatively short drives to get to Hamburg from Stockholm. A few hours to the Swedish port of Nynäshamn, then two hours or so the other end from Rostock to Hamburg. In between is an eighteen hour ferry trip. We weren’t able to book a cabin so we’ve resigned ourselves to what might not be the best night’s sleep on some kind of couch thing somewhere, should we be lucky enough to snag something like that. But no. This isn’t that kind of ferry. Instead, all the seating is on one deck of the nine it’s made up of, meaning aeroplane type seats in huge rows all over the deck. But somehow we’re one of the first people on which means we’re able to get ourselves a row of four seats right at the front of the deck in front of the huge windows looking out to sea. Not only that, but we’re able to inflate the double airbed we’ve been able to bring. We’ve also brought sleeping bags and pillows. With that, we essentially have a cabin right at the very front of the ship and now feel like we’re travelling in totally relaxed luxury. As the ship sets sail, we sit in our seats, reclined with our feet on the bed, and pour ourselves cups of some kind of Japanese citric wine. Yeah. We can manage 18 hours like this. We chill for the evening, then as night falls, it’s in bed to sleep until the sun comes up bright and spectacular in the morning. In between, at 10pm, four hours after leaving, we make a scheduled stop at Gotland, a Swedish holiday island, where just about everyone gets off and hardly anyone else gets on. This creates a bizarre situation where, for around an hour, we’re the only people we can see. Alone on a ferry in the middle of the sea. Even once the new arrivals are on board we’re able to stand at certain points and look all the way down from front to back and not see a single person. Pandemic and upcoming European crisis may have just combined to make this happen with people still holding off on travel plans. We don’t know but it is all very strange.

When morning comes, by 9am-ish we can see distant landfall and have a wonderful chill on the bed in the sun watching the busy sealane while contemplating the gradual encroaching landscape before us. There’s none of that usual travel feeling of, ‘Are we there yet?’ No. We could quite happily stay here all day and another night. As it is, we casually pack up and leave for the car around noon for the drive to Hamburg.

Maja:

I have long lost count on how many ferries I’ve been on, but the whole concept of even being able to buy a ticket for a longer trip without a cabin is new to me. Usually when I get on a ship I like to spend the majority of the time in the cabin sleeping and preparing for the adventures the next day but today we don’t have that opportunity. Having learnt our lesson from our first ferry to Ireland, Mark waits with the car while I get to reception as quickly as possible to try to get to the top of the list for possible cabin cancellations. Standing in line there, I overhear the receptionist explaining to an eldery woman that they’re fully booked. The inquiring lady then asks, in that case, would it be OK for her to inflate an air mattress. The receptionist replies that that would be fine. Yes. This is perfect. I ask the receptionist the same thing, just to inform her that I plan on inflating my air mattress as well, and she is apologetic and encouraging. Great. So we manage to get some seats right at the front of the ship as the other seats are slowly filling up. There seems to be a high school trip to Gotland, and the ship is very lively with a lot of youngsters making a lot of noise with a fair bit of drinking going on as well. Children are running around, crying and the guys on the school trip are talking very loudly just behind us. And then I go forward and inflate a big air mattress. The pump is loud and I can feel the stares in my back but I don’t care. It’s better to get this over with before people fall asleep. As soon it is inflated I lie down on it and just internally laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It is actually quite fun. I’m the only person comfortably lying down in this area. Also, the cost of the air mattress and sleeping bags are cheaper than the cost of a cabin, and this is way much more fun. In a bizarre way. 

Some strange japanese liquor in our cups and we talk the evening away and sleep wonderfully the whole night. In the morning we warm ourselves up by singing a couple of songs and playing some guitar while watching the horizon as Germany gets closer. What an amazing part of the trip this has turned out to be. 

Mark:

We are totally giddy with excitement in the car as we get closer. Then, shortly after 3pm, we’re suddenly on the Reeperbahn on which our hotel is situated. Wow this is bringing back memories. I was here twelve years ago in 2010 with my Madrid pop punk band Drunken Monkees. That time when we were fresh off recording our album and thought a German trip, starting in Hamburg, would be the way to try to break ourselves, or at least get something going. We had a wonderful time here and made quite a few useful contacts before we realised that the shoulder injury I was carrying wasn’t going to go away and I wasn’t going to be able to play at all. So we called it a holiday, stayed a while longer then headed back to Madrid without having played a single show. And where the first thing I did was go and get shoulder surgery in which some kind of calcium ball about a centimetre wide was removed from between the bones of my right shoulder. No wonder I couldn’t move the thing. But we still managed to create a lot of memories and make friends, and here I am again. We find our hotel and unload our gear – on the first floor this time. Result. Then it’s off to find a parking spot, a task that takes a frustratingly long time and we still don’t manage to find a free area. But we eventually find a reasonably priced place a little walk from the hotel, so we accept that for now, go back for shower and rest, then take a walk out to have a look at this place.

Maja:

Hamburg is vibrant.

HELLO HELLO!!! The Reeperbahn is breathing life like a monster. It’s alive. It’s been a while since I saw this many people and everyone seems to be after a good time and a good night. We walk to a kebab place for dinner, and then off to the London Pub for a celebratory pint. Tonight we’re celebrating arriving in Hamburg and hoping for as much success and experience as we can get. And I get to hear a lot of stories of when Mark was here with The Drunken Monkees. 

On our way back to the hostel we take a walk to the BeatlesPlatz and down the street next to it which is full of nightclubs. All around is crazy but this street is absolutely deserted. It is clear to see that Hamburg is still suffering from the Covid restrictions which we knew, but it is feeling a little bit strange. So the town feels really vibrant and alive. The streets are totally full of people, but dancing is still banned so the clubs are closed. I’m not even sure why there are so many of the people here or what they plan to do, but since the pubs are open I guess that they make do with that. The whole thing gives me a bizarre feeling. The combination of things being closed and alive at the same time. And little do I know, but this feeling will soon get stranger.

Mark:

The nightclubs might be closed but this place is still alive, alive, alive. And I’ve never seen such a concentration of entertainment venues like the Reeperbahn and its nearby areas. I’m sure there will be a lot of cover band activity, but it really seems like almost every second venue we pass is a potential place for us to play. On the immediate face of it, I’ve never seen so much possibility.

And, for people of a certain stripe, there’s an abundance of possibility of another kind. This place is full, and I mean, full, of sex bars of all kinds of varieties. It’s so open and full on, you can’t really even call it seedy, although what goes on in these types of places I have no idea and I have no intention of finding out. 

Oh, but our hotel room looks out right into the back of one of those sex places, the very biggest one with silouhettes of naked girls in various positions plasted over all four stories of its pink walls. Turning our back on this scene we head out into the night to get a closer look at the city and begin our participation in it. We’re not quite in the mood for a packed and crazy place so I decide to head to The London Pub, first for what I remember being its more chilled vibe, and also because I hung out in here a lot when I was here and got to know Tina, the owner, quite well. I wonder if she’s still here. Unlikely given the time distance and whatever Covid has done to these businesses, but you never know. If she is here, I’m hoping for a friendly face in a strange town and maybe maybe someone to help us get a bead on how things are round here and what kind of places might be good to focus on. No surprise that Tina is no longer here. Left a good few years ago, but the new boss is a good friend of hers so the connection is still there. And while the place is relatively chilled enough for us to get a comfortable spot at the bar, it’s still busy enough for the two staff to be kept rushed off their feet so there’s very little chance for chat beyond a snatched word here and there. Just the one drink here and we discover we’re starting to hit the wall. So back to the hotel it is. We’ll have another look at this place tomorrow. 

Right. That Drunken Monkees Hamburg thing, and the Drunken Monkees experience in general. If you’re interested in reading about that, I covered it in detail in Mark’s Diaries along with the whole of my six years in Madrid in a breakout section. You can find that here: https://marksdiaries.wordpress.com/category/professional/2017/september-2017/

To find the beginning of my time in Madrid just search for ‘The Madrid Story’

Hamburg begins at part nine. Or you can search ‘Album done, summer here’

The Hamburg Diary, day one

Day one

Sunday February 27.

Mark:

After a mercifully slow morning we’re out early afternoon but everywhere around the Reeperbahn is closed. Everywhere. Oh well. We give up and come out to try again around 7pm. But again, most places are still closed. After the fully pumped up environment we found ourselves launched into last night this is a confusing and frustrating experience. But we find two possible venues where the people we speak to make positive noises but it’s more, come back in a day or two when the manager might be around. In one of them is some kind of test the power of your punch boxing machine with a few enthusiastic participants playing it. This creates a quite annoying punctuation of aggression every now and then which makes talking to the assistant manager quite difficult and, when we leave, we’re not entirely sure we would want to play there anyway. This is added to the guy talking to us about playing a three hour set. Or at least playing a few sets in a three hour period taking the bar deep into the night. We do not do covers so that wouldn’t work for us; no-one wants to see an originals band for three hours. Even in famous land, only the very top top and legendary acts play for three hours or more. More often, you’re looking at an hour to an hour and a half.  We have a slight language barrier along with the sounds of that mad boxing game so he doesn’t quite grasp all this. But he still seems positive and he does come round to the possibility that we could play for an hour or less while another act takes the rest of the night.

Maja:

How can a city have felt so alive just yesterday and today feel like a ghost town? I don’t understand it. I just don’t get it. Someone, please come here and explain to me so I really understand. This just does not make sense. At all. 

Maybe it’s a German thing? When we were in Berlin a little while ago, the whole city was closed on Sundays as well. It was so closed that even the supermarkets weren’t open. Come on guys. Seriously? Do you need to close down the entire country every Sunday? Even my little city of Stockholm is alive on Sundays. Walking around here seeing everything being completely closed makes it feel like I am in this little town in the countryside with everything being closed so the people could go to Sunday mass. Only the things around is a club town with music and sex clubs everywhere and that is very much not fitting my image of being in the countryside. 

As we do the second round out in the evening some bars are starting to open up, which gives me a little hope. Maybe it’ll come alive soon. I am giving this place the benefit of the doubt, the restrictions in Hamburg have been very strict and many places are still completely closed because of covid. Let’s see how this develops.

The Hamburg Diary, day two

Day two

Monday February 28

Mark:

Almost everywhere is still closed. Still. This has gone from excitement to mild frustration to perturbance bordering on actually quite annoying by now. What’s going on and when  will places be open? 

But today we take a walk to the far end of the main strip for the first time and in a bar called Cowboy Und Indianer we are greeted by the owner, Sven, who is very enthusiastic when we introduce ourselves. He says places are still waiting for the weekend and the relaxation of Covid restrictions before they open. Makes sense and we kind of knew Hamburg would be quiet enough this week but that doesn’t massively help our levels of slowly mounting impotent frustration. This comes again when, after saying, yes, we could play in here, like the guy yesterday, he brings up the three hour thing. Oh dear. When we tell him a bit more about what we do, he says he could be open to our suggestion of maybe playing part of a night and leaving the rest of it to someone else. So OK. Another tentative lead. Let’s see. 

Another place we think we might just have a lead, or at least a chance to network, is a  cool looking nightclub type live music venue at the end of our street called Molotow. It’s advertising a show tonight by a guy who plays more or less in our ball park. Could be cool to check out. But when we get there it is, yes, you’ve guess it, closed. However, there are some people inside painting and organising and we get the attention of one of the girls. At first she’s like, go away, we’re closed. But we’re insistent that we would like to talk, so she agrees to come to the door. Once she’s opened it and is face to face with us and we’ve told her what we’re about, she’s all friendly smiles and is very happy to help. She tells us that this place is closed for a little while longer yet but she does give us the names of a few places we could try. We’re very grateful and let her get on her way but they don’t seem right for us. They’re more venues for established acts to play. But still. You never know. The right email to the right person and we might just be able to rustle up a support slot one night which, apart from anything else, could open up a contact or two.

Maja:

We’re just walking. Back and forth. Up and down and the right way around. How long can you even walk trying to hustle gigs? My feet hurt and our mood just keeps on getting worse and worse. We can’t even talk to anyone, everywhere is completely closed. At least we’re building up a view of which venues where it would be possible to play in once they open up. Often we take a look inside a venue, a bar or a restaurant and we’re able to screen the place even if it is closed. Our screening often goes like this. ‘Oh Mark, look at this place.’ ‘Yeah.’ And we go lean forward to look inside the window. ‘Too small.’ We say pretty much simultaneously. Or it’s the wrong feel of the venue or something else. Like if we get a really bad feeling about the place or the clientele there’s no point trying to get a gig there. So we walk around and build ourselves a picture of where we’d like to come back to once they’ve opened, and if there’s anything remotely interesting we go in and ask them if we can play there. 

This is how we hustle. Until we drop from exhaustion.

The Hamburg Diary, day three

Day 3

Tuesday March 1

Mark:

One of the massively encouraging things on our Hamburg adventures so far is that we’ve found evidence of 20 open mics in and around Hamburg. One of them is at the end of the street at a huge bar called The St Pauli Brauerei. Except when we get there we’re told they’re not doing it anymore. Oh well. Corona and all that. A lot of things have changed we will discover more and more that a lot more of those open mics are no longer in operation. However, this place is at least open and we go in and see Simon, the boss. It’s only just opened this week and he says they may well have a place for us but please wait to see how the weekend goes. Fair enough.

With that we decide to check out an open mic at a place that translates as Friendly And Competent. That’s up there in great pub names as far as I’m concerned and I’ll let you decide if I’m being sarcastic or not.

It’s a bit of a trek out there but we make it in good time and get our name on the list. It’s quite a big place for an open mic with a pretty decent sized stage and very good sound system, all overlooked by a sound engineer who does his very best to give everyone the best possible sound – a not too common aspect of open mics.

We’re told we’ll be on fourth or fifth and we settle back for the show which demonstrates the highest overall level of any open mic we’ve attended. Everyone’s also getting the chance to do three songs rather than the usual two which is cool. We decide to go for I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), a first play of Six Sense Lover and Rock’n’Roll Tree. I’ll tell you now that, for better or worse, we’ve decided/realised that I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) is kind of a hit so will play it at every opportunity even as we start to believe we have quite a few songs that we think are, well, better. But we do love Naked and since when did songwriters have any idea of what their best songs were? Sometimes you just have to listen to the audience.

Naked gets the best response of anything all night. Rock’n’Roll Tree perfectly holds its own and, be far, this first outing of Six Sense is a little messy so it doesn’t really get a full chance. But we recover and really smash it out in the end so it’s partly rescued and goes down pretty well in the end. A girl sitting near the front is also kind enough to agree to film us on Maja’s phone and we end up with a pretty good version of Naked. It would be nice to be able to bring you one of the other songs because you’ve probably heard Naked once or twice already, but we weren’t best please with them, so this is what we have from tonight.

There’s a bit of a paradox about this place. It has a really cool vibe and, like I said, some of the best performers we’ve come across. But no-one really talks to anyone else. There’s no actual sense of songwriter community, or any other kind of community really; two of the best performers sit at the front, do their thing and leave. Which is also quite disappointing. We do manage an enthusiastic chance with one duo of wonderful performers, but they tell us this is the first time they’ve played their own stuff live, so the novelty value is still high for them. 

When everyone’s had a go, it’s time for the closing act to do their thing which is a cover duo. They play for half an hour or so and then the floor just seems to open up again and people can just go up and have another go. We watch this in mild confusement for a while and then, after a few people have done their thing, the host comes and asks if we wouldn’t mind going up and closing the evening. Wow. That feels like something of an honour really, first time out. So up we go and play Insanity and Freefall. That done, it’s time to start making our way home. We do that by very luckily arriving just in time to catch the last train to the Reeperbahn. 

Maja:

I’ve barely been drinking at all in Sweden and my alcohol tolerance has been greatly reduced which is something I really get to notice during our recently once again increased nightlife. I’ve had maybe two pints after performing and was not planning on getting back up on stage. I prefer to perform sober so I’ve always waited with the drinks until after performing, for the socialising part of the night. But tonight I got asked out of the blue to close the night. Of course I am going to close the night. There would be a waste not to. So we get up on stage, Mark is ready and we blast into Insanity which is a gentle but epic song. It goes down great. The crowd is cheering and I am so happy I was able to sing this song without lyrics. I’ve had a hard time with memorising all of our lyrics, there’s just so many songs to memorise and each and every one of them are incredibly lyric intense. But now I am able to do that song without lyrics. That’s an achievement for me. Let’s go for Freefall next. I love performing Freefall, the song is hard and deep with gentler moments in it and it just feels amazing to perform. When I sing it I can’t help but really go for it and to use my whole body really feeling the beat and the melody of the lyrics. As the song ends I sing the last line ‘I’m going down’ and drop down on my knees bending backward with my head almost touching the ground behind me. And the room absolutely explodes in applause. As I stand up I see the whole room looking at us and cheering. Feeling uplifted by the atmosphere of the room I say ‘Thank you, would you like to hear another one?’ fully expecting an answer. And I am met with embarrassing silence. OK, thank you, another lesson learned. Never ask the audience if they want to hear another one. Especially not in Germany. I honestly don’t believe the people here know enough English to understand my question or to answer it. And people don’t like getting put on the spot like that even if it’s clear to see that they would have loved for us to go on for longer. But this is great, you learn by making mistakes and I need to learn everything I can. I need the experience. So we thank everyone for an awesome show and start packing down our gear. This has really been an amazing night, even though the people here are not really that up for socialising. A couple of people tell us that we performed really well and we got the biggest reactions during the night, but it’s clear to see that this won’t lead to anything. It won’t be a cool afterparty to go to and there’s no future gigs to be found here. We might as well just say thank you and go back home to sleep and continue with the next day filled with the energy of finally having been able to break the no performance period we’ve had. This is the first performance since Artliners in Berlin, and it is great being on it again.

The Hamburg Diary, day four

Day four 

Wednesday March 2

Mark:

Like we did in Berlin, we’re thinking that any night we don’t get a gig, we could take ourselves off to an open mic somewhere, but we have a look today and discover there isn’t a single one happening tonight. And that list of 20 plus that we found, on closer look, we discover that nearly all of them happen only once or twice a month. Or, in one case, four times a year. So it really isn’t as abundant as it first appeared. And of course, Corona and all that, the list is hopelessly out of date. Totally understandably so, but yeah. So many of them aren’t happening anymore, or the places have closed down, or not opened yet. And that is really what’s happening right now. And again, we kinda knew it when coming. Hamburg isn’t really open until this weekend and we’re starting to see that it’s really mainly a weekend city anyway, or at least that’s how it’s currently operating.

Today’s the day to go out and see if we can find somewhere to park the car for free. We go and rescue it from the paid parking we’ve had it in since we got here and set off for the outer suburbs of Hamburg. Here, Maja decides to follow the route of the overground S Train so that we can hopefully be near a train station when we do eventually find parking. We also use the drive as an opportunity to take a detour or two and check out areas where we know certain venues are. What we discover is that, apart from the Reeperbahn where we’re staying, bars and venues are very sporadically spread about the city. We’re gonna go check the city centre later too, but with that being quite close to where we are, we can now see that we really are ideally situated and probably won’t have to travel too much for gigs. We also see that there’s going to be no point coming out to these areas to hustle and can’t now either because, yes of course, everywhere’s closed.

It takes a while, but we do find our parking space then jump on a nearby train to go check out the city centre which sits in the middle of a whole bunch of sea channels, so bridges and river-looking things all over the place. And while the Reeperbahn is nothing but bars of various description and a few shops, here there are hardly any bars or venues and we’ve found the place where you can buy things that aren’t food. We start to think about walking back and seeing what we can find barwise to possibly hustle on the way but we come to the conclusion that there probably won’t be anything, so as we reach the edge of the city we jump on the train and head back. Totally confirmed. For hustling, the only place to be is the Reeperbahn.

The Hamburg Diary, day five

Day five

Thursday March 3

Mark:

Moving day. Our hotel was booked up until today and we decided on Monday to check out the Kiez Bude, the hostel I stayed at all that time ago. And boy were we impressed. Even more so when they agreed to beat our room rate at our current place. It’s also right across the road from us, so a really simple transition to an amazing, pink en suite double room in, and yes this is really true, a former brothel. And they fully, er, embrace their past in the whole decor of the place, which includes their famous side by side two person toilet. The place is empty and we have our pick of rooms and so are able to bag their most famous and most popular room, the pink room. It’s up one flight of stairs, so a little carrying for us, but nothing major. We can handle this. A game changer here is that it has a kitchen with a microwave and a fridge. Things you normally take for granted, but a major deal when living on the road. This now means we can make more of our budget which, up until now, had seen us cutting back by mostly having noodle cups made with hot tea water from the last place, supplemented by as much fresh fruit as possible. Living like we do, when you have no kitchen facilities at all, it’s noodles and the like, supplemented by as much fresh fruit as possible, or have breakfast, lunch and dinner on the street or in cafes or bars, or restaurants in extravagant moments, and damn that can add up. 

Not only does the Kiez Bude have a kitchen, it also has a bar. Or at least a bar type area. Currently unstaffed and unstocked, but still a really cool hang out place to have. And at the back of the bar is a huge, and I mean huge, sofa on a slightly raised stage type construction. This will become our office for writing sessions and we sit here, literally as I type this, surrounded by sex memorabilia – is that the right word? – and erotic pictures. There’s even a Kiez Bude calendar over the bar, and the picture of the page for March is our room. This bar is just two or three metres from our room. And from our window we look right out onto the Reeperbahn and Beatles Platz. We can now see exactly how busy things are without even venturing outside. And yes. It’s Thursday, so approaching the weekend, and there is indeed a little more activity than we’ve been seeing since we got here on that explosive Saturday. Maybe we can actually find a few more bars open now. Time to go hustle.

A little high lighted inventory.

The London Bar. Why not? Quite small, but could possibly be good for low key daytime gigs if they’re up for it. They’re not. Apparently they’ve tried music in the past but neighbours upstairs got that thing vetoed and they don’t want to touch it anymore.

We go next door to the Scandinavian bar. We’ve hesitated about this place due to it’s silly boxing machine but we’ve thought, why the hell not, so here we are today. We meet the actual owner Anil. He says we could possibly do something in here tomorrow but he’s also leaving Hamburg tomorrow for the weekend. He may well let us know today, he may not. He doesn’t.

A few more bars are open that we’ve not seen and we go and check them out, everytime having to stop and have our Corona stuff checked before we can even go in and see the place to decide it’s too small or unsuitable and so we immediately turn and walk out.

What we are finding quite a bit is that people perk up when we tell them why we’re here, but we’re also finding that a lot of managers aren’t about and so we still can’t make any inroads.

One place we might be able to make some kind of inroad is Cowboy Und Indianer. And anyway, it might be a place to go have a drink. As soon as we arrive, Sven is there to greet us like long lost friends. And there’s a band playing. Great. We order a pint and settle back to enjoy the band which is a three piece playing covers. Before our drinks are finished, Sven is round to us with free shots. Wonderful. Thankyou very much. Then, when our drinks are finished, he returns and gives us free beers. We might just be able to get used to this. When we order another round, he comes and talks to us and says that we may be able to play here on Monday. Nothing confirmed, but cool. Something of a possible. 

We arrive back at the hotel to discover there’s nobody there. Nobody. Not, no guests. I mean, no staff, nobody. The admin office is a few doors down the street and there’s no-one running the bar or anything else. And we know the guests for the week have left and that no-one else has checked in. We are totally alone in here. 

The Hamburg Diary, day six

Day six

Friday March 4

Maja:

Hamburg has finally eased its covid restrictions. Finally. Now dancing is allowed again and places such as nightclubs that have been forced to close can open up again under the 2G+ rules. 2G+ means that you have to show full vaccination plus a booster or a daily test, and if you can show this you’re let in and can act as normal in the venue. Which means that you don’t have to wear those horrible super thick facemasks anymore that Germany has decreed you have to use as soon as you leave your seat. So finally we can have some kind of normality inside the venues again, and more places have opened back up as well. And we are here and ready for the reopening of Hamburg.

We made sure to rest yesterday after the move to have energy for hustling a town that is opening up. There’s no point wasting energy on a closed city. We’re out at 6 PM all prepared and ready to hustle for gigs. Our first stop is the Thomas Read Irish Pub and Club. Honestly I think it is a bit of a strange concept to have an Irish pub combined with a club, I always thought that an Irish pub would be a kind of chill place to sit and enjoy a couple of pints with friends and at times there would be some music or football going on. I would never really connect that experience with a club. That just seems a little bit wrong to me. We go in and enter this relaxed beer garden too cold for anyone to sit in, leading into the pub. The pub looks like it could have been taken right out of Ireland and placed here. The interior is full of the traditional dark wood that you would find at any Irish pub, there’s a couple of people already in drinking beer even though the place opened just a couple of minutes ago. They’re comfortably sitting at the bar as much a fixture as the furniture itself. We sit down at the bar for a second while Mark shows me the Whiskey selection which is one of the most extensive I’ve ever seen. I first look at just one shelf which is full of different kinds of high end whiskey which I would just love to try, and yes, the place has a great selection. I understand why Mark has talked so much about it. And then my eyes wander to the side of that shelf and I find another one. And another one. There must be three or four shelves of whiskey. Now I get it even more. That’s a lot. 

Mark:

When I was here with Drunken Monkees, we actually met and hung out with the guy who actually devised these shelves and personally sourced all the bottles. It was a matter of great pride to him and he told us that the bar owner just totally trusted him and let him get on with it to create the concept, which is still very much in place to this day.

Maja:

Well, much like Mark’s previous Hamburg experience, we’re not here on vacation. We’re here to work, and that means hustle. We need to find the manager so Mark asks the bartender while I look around a bit more. The bartender seems interested in what we have to offer, and actually goes to find the manager who is running around in the club and live event area downstairs preparing for tonight’s gig. It’s actually very cool that he is trying to get hold of the owner for us. But he soon comes back and says that the owner is far too stressed trying to set up the venue for the first gig since today is the first day in ages where they have been able to have music on. Fair enough. He also asks us to come back later, when it’s calmed down a bit. Sure thing. And we leave to try somewhere else.

There’s this bar or maybe I should call it a restaurant right under our room which we had a good feeling about but it’s always been closed. As we walk out of Thomas Read we decide to check it out. It is open. The place is called Bei Teresa and there’s a couple of young people there singing karaoke and drinking way too much for the time of the day. It’s obvious that they are using the place as a pre party before going out clubbing. We walk in and ask for the manager. There seems to be two of them, Teresa and Tommy. Approaching Teresa she meets us with positive sounds and asks us to ask Tommy. He is busy running back and forth at the back of the venue. He seems really positive and welcomes us to come play tonight. Great. We decide to return in an hour or so to set up. The night is still early, and we have other places we want to go to before it gets too late. And now we have our first gig. Progress.

We walk to the area around the back of the London bar. We’ve already scouted it and seen a bunch of bars there that seem like possible venues for us to play in. We go in and talk to a few bar managers, but we soon discover that a whole bunch of bars in this very area go through the same booker. After being sent to talk to this person, then that person and so on a few times, we finally meet the one lady responsible for all the live music in this very concentrated area of venues. She’s perfectly polite and pleasant and gives us her time, but it also becomes very clear that she is only interested in cover acts that can play three 45 minute sets in a night – the format we’re discovering is pretty much the standard around here. Nothing original. At all. And all the bars in this immediate area only have music through her, locking off this whole place to us. There’s no point lingering around here. Time would be much better spent in other areas where the music isn’t sourced through bookers in this strict way. OK. Fair enough. Let’s go back and play our gig.

Mark:

This is really frustrating. Walking up and down and around this area in the past week or so has been so exciting and full of promise as all we’ve been able to see is venues advertising live music. More than I’ve ever seen in a single area, including Benidorm – again, cover town. No originals please. On this one street alone earlier in the day, we stood in one spot and counted no less than seven live venues, and that was just the ones that advertised the fact. So to come and discover that they’re all sewn up with coveracts and no room for anyone like us is a bit of a kicker.

Maja:

And here I ought to explain in case you wonder why we are walking to all these venues like this, trying to talk to the managers. It’s because this is the only way we have of any chance of getting to play. We’ve emailed every venue we could find, around 40 plus venues in Hamburg, but we haven’t even gotten a single reply. Oh that’s actually wrong, we got one nice reply with someone that couldn’t put us on but recommended us to email a couple of other venues. Which we did, of course. But that is all fruitless. No one is answering, no one gives us an opportunity. I don’t know why, but that is how it has been so far. So that leaves us with two options, scrap our dreams of music totally and just go live conventionally, or to actually get out into the world, knock on doors, and generally just make it happen by sheer force. So here we are, investing in ourselves, backing ourselves, and trying everything we can just to get the chance of playing in front of people. 

But it’s kinda like this. Music is dead. Original music is dead. Very few people are trying anymore. Not like us. We are trying to revive it.

Mark: 

The hard truth is that, while we shouldn’t kid ourselves that it was ever easy, it’s now all but impossible for young or new acts to come through and has been for a while. Live venues are closing everywhere, of course, physical sales are barely a thing anymore and haven’t been for a long time so there’s little to no money for acts or record companies to make there, and streaming is little more than a vague promotional tool for artists; hardly anyone but the biggest make any real money. There have been cases of people receiving royalties of less than $20 for five to six million plays. Please go and read that last sentence again. The big stars make the big bucks this way largely because the model is set up to give people who sell more, a bigger percentage share of their sale. And there’s just a big general feeling that fewer and fewer people are bothering to have a go anymore. Damn, even I’d given up on songwriting and the thought of being part of an originals project at all before Maja came along. Noel Gallagher has said that he doesn’t see how another band like Oasis could happen anymore.

And on the day we put this account out, I see an interview in The Independent newspaper with The Who singer Roger Daltrey. He says that musicians can’t earn a living in the record industry anymore. ‘They’re being robbed blind by streaming and the record companies. Our music industry, I think, has been stolen. I think we really do have to be concerned when young musicians can’t earn a living writing music.’

Going into the financials, he continues, ‘The streaming companies pay so little in the beginning and then the record companies take 85, 90 per cent of that. You need a billion streams to earn 200 quid. That’s the reality.’

This is all the backdrop against which we’re operating, here now, really having a go on tour, lockdown odds and all the rest of it stacked against us. But we are writing our songs and taking ourselves out to have a real go at it. With that, we’ve decided we have to make it happen for ourselves rather than wait for someone to open some kind of door and give us permission to do it. We’ve seen around here how acts pass the hat around, even cover acts which has been a bit of an eye opener. But that really could be a way to do something and to generate our own income; bars aren’t going to pay original acts to play, and until you’re known on a pretty big level, no-one’s going to come out and pay entrance to a venue to see you. So if we’re to really do anything, we have to do it ourselves and we have to do it now. 

Maja: 

We get back to our hotel room and pack up our gear, including preparing the two trolleys with stuff strapped on to them. We are now ready to walk the extremely long walk to our gig. All twenty steps from our door to Bei Teresa’s door. Finally we’re about to get to play a full show. It’s been a while since we did that. The clubbing boys leave for their clubs as we start setting up, and there’s this one guy meaning to leave any second now, and he just keeps on staying. It’s quite amusing to see how he just stands there with his mouth half open watching us, meaning to leave, but never quite doing so. There’s a couple of other people there as well. As we get into the show, I especially notice this older couple that totally seem to enjoy every song. I decide I’m playing for them tonight. Thank you for being here, thank you for listening, and I am glad you’re enjoying it. I enjoyed playing for you tonight.

As we finish Tommy asks us to come back and play tomorrow. Today has been a little too dead but he really likes what we’re doing. Great. We just got ourselves a return gig. This is just brilliant. We played and the owner likes us, an original act, enough to ask us to come back. That doesn’t happen. This is brilliant. This is success. Happy we set out for our shortest journey ever back home to drop the equipment off in our room which is directly above the venue. Once there, considering it vertically, we are just a metre or two away from where we just played. 

Mark: 

Yes, the gig was disappointingly dead, but the few people who were in there really seemed to enjoy it, especially an older German couple near the front window who tell us they stayed because of the show. And the staff has been giving us good vibes about it  all too. Great.

I might just be getting ahead of things here, but I’m starting to wonder if this could be a residency. Tommy wants us again tomorrow, whatever has happened tonight. Based on that, once we’re upstairs in the room, me and Maja are starting to talk about this being a place we could just come and play on any off night. And if we are able to be here everynight more or less, maybe, just maybe, word could get around and we really could start to build something. Right under our hotel room. But all those thoughts get destroyed when we return downstairs and outside and see the opening hours of the bar. Only open at weekends. Damn. This really is a thing. Oh well. On with tonight and after that, at least we have a show tomorrow.

Maja:

Happy and giddy with the return gig and the prospects of an eventual residency, we freshen up and leave for our next hustle. Let’s go to Thomas Read. Mark has a really good feeling about this place and thinks that it could be a big possible gig for us, so it is high on the list of venues to visit. So we go and first I think that the line of people is to the nightclub next door, but no. There are two queues. One is to the nightclub, but the other, almost equally long one, is to Thomas Read. An Irish pub. Come on, this is just ridiculous. No way we’re waiting all that time to go into a full venue. Apart from the queuing time, the fact that there is a queue tells us that it will already be far too busy inside for anyone to have enough time to talk to us. Let’s see where else we can go. There’s this music club down at the far end of the club road, Indra, which has always been closed when we’ve been walking by. Let’s see if it’s open now. It is. There’s a guy outside having a smoke and we ask him if we need to show him our covid passports. He looks up at us with a smile and a completely ununderstanding face. But as soon as he opens his mouth to say hello, we can see that he has nothing to do with security and is in fact very very drunk. He then tries a ridiculous move of leaning very far forwards while holding onto the gateposts either side of him. Of course he can’t maintain the position and is soon hurtling down the few steps, heading for a heavy fall directly at us. His body is centred on me andI have to use quite a bit of strength to keep him from falling on the ground and dragging me down in the process. What a place already, and we haven’t even gotten inside the doors. We leave the drunkard where we found him and enter the building. Finally we’re here. Indra. The place where the Beatles began in Hamburg. It’s a big room, with maybe room for 200 people, with a stage in the back and a bar close to the entrance with a couple of bar stools for the last brave guests of the night. We sit down by the bar and order a drink, weissbier, celebrating the opening up of Hamburg and our life here. First gig down, second booked, which is a return gig. It certainly means we’re doing something right. Cheers. There’s a drunk DJ with his friend standing next to the stage changing vinyl discs on a very fancy looking DJ table, with boxes of vinyl singles that they look through all the time. We go to the area in front of the stage to dance completely alone on the dancefloor, moving around to the tunes of great 60s music with our private DJ in the fully packed club district in Reeperbahn. Yes, I’d rather be here than any of the full nightclubs catering as a meatmarket for 20 year olds. There’s almost no-one here but the owner of the club, a couple of regulars and the DJs. Exactly the kind of crowd we’ve come out to meet. And, don’t tell Mark, but I only think one of them was trying to come on to me. 

When we return to sit by the bar, we’re immediately greeted with shots on the house, and then we get to speak with the owner, Sam. And yes, he tells us all kinds of stories about the Beatles, including them playing in this very room, but it looked slightly different then. And he says they often played to no-one but the cleaner who used to put her fingers in her ears since she didn’t like the sound of their music. Hearing that story I feel oddly validated. Especially after tonight’s gig to an almost empty venue. I haven’t really been through that many non attended or under-appreciated gigs, but it kinda feels good to know that no-one even wanted to listen to the Beatles when they were new. I don’t think people anywhere like to listen to new music, and that is becoming more and more a pressing problem for me. We need to find the places where people want to listen. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’d play anywhere if there’s even one person listening to us, but it’s obviously better to play where people want to listen. Well, not necessarily. If that one person is the right person, that’s the gig you want to play. But you’ll never know that. Right now it’s just a game of trying to get in front of as many people as possible. And play as much as possible, trying to gain experience. 

After sharing stories of the Beatles for a while, Sam leans in to inquire who we are. So we present ourselves, sliding over our card. The Diaries. Sam jolts back in shock. He’s heard of us and knows who we are. He says he remembers seeing an email we sent to another venue in town. So all those emails weren’t wasted afterall. I guess all you need is one to land, you just can’t possibly know which one until you’ve sent them all. He apologises that he can’t put us on right now, but there’s a gig tomorrow and he’d love for us to see it, so he puts us on the guestlist. We explain that we have a gig to play tomorrow as well, but he replies, ‘Just come before, and you can come back after you’ve played.’ As he says that, he pours us another round of those lovely baby guiness shots. 

The Hamburg Diary, day seven

Day seven

Saturday March 5

Mark:

We have very high hopes for tonight. Guest listed for a 50s rock’n’roll revival show at Indra that could lead to us meeting all kinds of people. Sam, the owner of the place with all his positive thoughts could have developed a lead or two for us to look at. And in between we have the second show at Bei Theresa to play. This last one produces a quite comical moment when I look out of our window mid morning and see Tommy sweeping the front outside area. I pop my head out for a hello to the owner of the venue right beneath our window that we’ll be playing tonight. He’s full of morning’s joys and once again exhorts us to, ‘come back.’ Yep, we definitely will. He shouts up a lot more that all sounds wonderful, encouraging and positive, but the wind, traffic noises and basic language barrierness all combine to cause his words to be somewhat lost. But the sentiment all stays intact and I make what I think are the right faces and noises at the right times and he waves a happy goodbye and goes back inside. As do I.

Maja:

It’s great to know the plans for the day. Quite unusual, but great. So during the day we can just sleep in and prepare ourselves for the show coming up. And for the show for which we’re on the guestlist. This is my very first time being on the guestlist to anything which is a moment to remember in itself. I, not knowing anybody here, walked into the coolest original music venue in Hamburg and got put on the guestlist for the show the next day. I’m having butterflies in my belly from just thinking about it. Or maybe it is belly rabbits. I like the concept of belly rabbit punches more so that is what I decided I feel right now. For the one who doesn’t know about belly rabbit punches, it’s the feeling you get in your belly when you feel so excited about something that you feel all warm and tingly in your belly. And my belly is punched by all the cutest little rabbits right now. 

Sleepy and a tad hungover from yesterday, the time just flies by and we need to get going again. If you think you’d get home from the bar, go to sleep and then wake up and be able to do things during the day before going to the next event when you’re on tour, you’re sorely mistaken. It’s just not possible. You need all the time you can get to rest during the day to show off the best you during the night. We’re straight up from bed to the show at Indra. It’s a 50’s Rock ‘n’ Roll show and everyone there is dressed like they stepped right out of the TV screen of a recording of an Elvis show. The girls are  wearing dresses with the typical iconic make-up you’d see on Marilyn Monroe. And they’re all velvet red lips and big hair. The guys have their combs ready to time and time again fixate their big hairs into perfection. The understaffed bartenders stress behind the long bar to serve the thirsty 50’s crowd and many of them are ordering cocktails while the poor barstaff are probably just asking, ‘Why can’t they just order beer?’ There’s people swingdancing in front of the stage, where the band is nowhere to be seen, and I can’t help wanting to join them. It looks fun. It’s a scene taken straight from the 50’s. Maybe I am in an alternative universe together with everyone who thinks they belong in Grease? We’ll never know.

We say hello to Sam who is busy behind the bar serving everyone drinks, and retire to wait for the band to start. It looks like we’ll have time to catch the first couple of songs before leaving to go play our own show. Everything is timed to perfection and the band will be out any minute now. Any minute now. Did you hear me, I said any minute now. Apparently not. Five minutes after showtime. Ten minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes. Any minute now. No. The clock just ticks by and we start to feel itchy as we need to get going to play our own show. Finally we give in and go to the cloakroom to collect our jackets. The band still hasn’t started. But just as we’re gathering our things, the band comes on. Finally. We can catch one song at least, and then we’ll leave for our own show. The band is surprisingly ill fitting to the crowd. Everyone is dressed modern with T-shirts and they look more like they’re going to chill with friends on a Tuesday morning and hadn’t bothered to dress nicely for it than that they’re about to play a 50’s Rock ‘n’ Roll show. But the music is really good. They even have a double bass which is played with great enthusiasm. That’s so cool. I’ve never even seen a double bass before. The song is short and the crowd goes crazy as it finishes. We, on the other hand, go the other direction and leave to some very surprised faces. The girl at the entry inquires as to why is the world we would pay 12 euro to see a show and leave after the first song to which we’re able to answer in a cool fashion. ‘We were on the guestlist. We need to go play our own show now. We’ll be back later.’ 

We collect our gear from our room and walk the ridiculously long distance of all the way down the stairs to our own gig. We’re a little underwhelmed to find that there are just a few dining guests scattered around the place. Nothing we can do about that. Maybe it will fill up later. We get on with it and set up in the window this time with the thought that it might help to bring people in the door. So we start and we go for our calmer songs, because the people sitting here just look like they want to enjoy their meal. That’s fine, my voice isn’t in that good shape today so I don’t want to give everything until we get a bit more of a crowd. But we’re not getting a bit more of a crowd. One couple after the next, the people finish their meals and leave. Leaving us to play to a not so happy bar staff. It’s depressing. It really is. So we turn around and play out for the street trying to get people in, but there’s almost no-one walking around. How can that be? Everyone around here seems to be wanting to go to the nightclubs. But even as we look across the road at Beatlesplatz, there’s hardly anyone walking by there either. We have a moment of hope when this one big group of people that stops by the window and we play them an upbeat song in an attempt to get them in the venue, and they are really digging it. They’re dancing to the music, and the lads seem to love it. We can see some lively discussion as they debate whether to enter the building or not, but they reach the conclusion not to, to the disappointment of some that gesture strongly and encouragingly to us. I feel my heart sink, this does not look good. Playing to an empty bar. Soon afterwards we pack up, get a beer each on the house and drink it to the hollow feeling of a completely flat gig. 

Well, not every gig is a success. According to a few stories we’ve heard this week, even the Beatles played to empty venues around here at times.

But what we do have is the experience of playing a gig that fell flat now. Honestly I think I did some of the best voice work I’ve done so far, and we’ve had the experience of using our gear and playing for real. Maybe the bar staff enjoyed us? They were at least really encouraging and nice to us.

What we also have is the fact that we played a gig. So we can go back to Indra after having done it, and enjoy the evening where people know that we’re performing musicians even if they haven’t gotten the chance to see us yet. I mean, we just played a gig, and they were there watching someone else. So that is what we do. Tonight was a success, there just weren’t that many people there. So we’ll take that, and go and show our good side at Indra. I mean, we’re on the guestlist for a reason. 

At Indra the show is over and the crowd is now getting down to dancing and drinking. We sit down at the bar, say hello to Sam, buy some beers and chat to each other and the people around. Sam keeps us going with free shots and it feels really nice to just be here and decompress after the gig. During chatting with Sam, he tells us that the bars he’s involved with that we could play at are either fully booked or won’t be having live music for a while longer yet, so we’re just in Hamburg a little too early for him. But he does say that we would love to hear from us before we come next time so that something could be arranged.

Turning my attention away from the bar, I suddenly find I’m sitting next to the singer of tonight’s band and he starts talking with me. I’m not sure why. Maybe he thinks I’m just pretty or maybe he knows I’m a rockstar on tour in Hamburg having played her own show tonight. I never get to know, because he is just too drunk to make any sense of. Changing seats to the other side of the bar, we’re not in that much more luck. But at least it is amusing. There is this guy that starts talking to us and he totally hits on me so obviously that Mark goes and stands in between us. Then Mark starts to tell him all kinds of embarrassing stories just to make him feel uncomfortable, with which he succeeds. Mark gets all attentive on me, telling me he doesn’t want to leave me alone with that guy so he stays close to me the rest of the night. We even go to the toilet together so no-one will get a chance to hit on me. It feels safe that he does that for me, especially since we’re alone in Hamburg not knowing anyone. And we know that I seem to attract all kinds of guys, and that can be very scary at times. 

Mark:

On the face of it, tonight could be seen as having fallen a bit flat. But really, it signifies a triumph and a real breakthrough. Everything suddenly looks different now. We might not be playing any shows with Sam or his friends, but he couldn’t have been any more positive and he really does think there could be something for us next time round. With that, we feel like we’ve established our Hamburg base, or at least a potential one. With Lenny in Berlin, we have our potential Berlin base. This basically means we now have very real toeholds in the two main entertainment cities of Germany. And with Germany being the leading musical territory of Europe, we may well have created our own set of keys for unlocking the gates to the whole continent. And we came to both cities not knowing a single person. We’ve done this through sheer footwork, determination and personality. And we still have Ireland and London to explore.

The Hamburg Diary, days eight and nine

Day eight

Sunday March 6


Nothing today. Nothing nothing. It’s been a major major week with major major results. We give ourselves today off. Totally. 

It’s a great day for sleeping and watching movies, sometimes at the same time. Everywhere is closed anyway.

Day nine

Monday March 7

Maja:

I am not great today. My health is a little bit frail I would say. I’ve always been very prone to catching colds and when I get sick I get very sick. If my mum got the sniffles from a cold, I would be out with a high fever for two weeks. It would always be like that, so I am a bit afraid of getting sick. I do my best at keeping myself well, and today I feel like if I don’t stay in bed I might feel worse. So in bed I stay. I have a gig today that I want to be able to do. Or at least I think I have a gig. 

Mark:

Maja’s not feeling the best today and Mondays aren’t the best days for hustling anyway, with most managers treating them as their Saturdays or Sundays after their busy weekends. We just pretty much continue where we left off Sunday until around 6 when I decide to take myself off on a mini hustle and to see what’s going on. We’ve not heard from Sven of Cowboy Und Indianer so I also want to go and see if there’s anything happening there. I have his number, but I’m heading out anyway so I might as well swing by. If we’re on, Maja will come out and play. If not, she’ll take that. I’m thinking not, otherwise we would have heard something by now, and yep, that is the case. Oh well. I still have his number and he has mine, so let’s see.

Right next to Cowboy Und Indianer I discover a bar called Lehmitz that hasn’t been open the whole time we’ve been here and they have live music advertised. I go in and am told there’s a guy I should speak to who’ll be here in an hour. Cool.

I now check and see The Irish Rover is closed until Thursday. But I still want to go and have a look at it and check out the area it’s in. Besides, I’m out anyway and really want to carry on with having a walk out somewhere.

The Irish Rover is just inside the very clearly geographically demarcated zone that designates the city centre; a ring road encircles it, and it is also buttressed by parks and waterways. The area I’ve come to see is indeed something of a social oasis within a city centre which is overwhelmingly a commercial entity. There aren’t any other potential venues for us here, but what we have is a wonderful large open plaza type area with restaurants cafes and bars dotted around its perimeter. At the apex of all this heading into the city centre is The Irish Rover. Cool. We will return. Now it’s time to return to Lehmitz, the bar I was in earlier. 

I enter and this time meet the Nick I was told to come back and talk to. Like so many other people, he talks about the three hour concept, to which once more I reply in variations of, ‘not our thing.’ When I tell him we’re on tour he’s impressed and thinks we could possibly do something on Thursday but he’ll need to speak to someone else here called Arthur to check that out and hopefully confirm. Oh well. Sometimes it goes like that. OK. Fine. Still, another possible place. I’ll take that for a Monday walk. 

The Hamburg Diary, days 10 and 11

Day 10

Tuesday March 8

Mark:

The huge Brauerei bar at the near end of the strip has been open for its first weekend. When we went in last week, Simon, the manager, said it could be a goer, but he wanted to see how their first weekend looked. Well, it’s looked good whenever we’ve walked past, so we think now would be a good time for a revisit. Tonight’s also a good night for burgers and beer, so where better to do that?

As we’re finishing up, the place has quietened down and Simon is sitting with a few friends so I go over, say hi and ask where he is. He immediately says, ‘Oh, thanks for dropping back in. You can play tomorrow if you like.’ Wow. Just like that. Isn’t it nice when these things just work?

Job done there, we head right down to the other end of the strip and into Lehmitz where we manage to get hold of Arthur. He seems very impressed when we say we’re playing the Brauerei and says we can play in here on Thursday.  Just drop by tomorrow and we’ll get the times sorted out, he says. Wow. OK. From here we go next door where we’re greeted with hugs by Sven. Pint in here, then as we’re getting ready to leave, he comes over and drops two more pints on our table. Once again, we really could get used to all this.

Day 11

Wednesday March 9

Mark:

Things have been going pretty well and we have a show tonight in the biggest bar in town. So we don’t feel under any pressure to do anything. Instead, we just take it easy to give ourselves the best chance to be fresh for when it matters. Nothing exists in our minds today but playing tonight and making sure that goes as well as it can.

Evening comes up and before leaving to play our gig we have to go and see Arthur to confirm tomorrow and find out exactly when it’s happening. We get to Lehmitz and Arthur’s nowhere around and nowhen knows where he is or when he’ll be here. It’s suggested that we wait for a while but we have somewhere to be. Sven’s in here having a quiet drink and we go and say hi. He’s friendly but clearly exhausted and in no state to really talk or discuss gigging possibilities with his bar. No worries. We say our goodbyes and head off to pick up our gear and get ourselves down to The Brauerei. We walk in and leave our gear by the stage area and then go off to find Sami and let him know we’re here. As soon as we see him walking towards us, his face says that something isn’t quite right. Correct. As soon as he reaches us he says, ‘Guys, I’m really sorry but I spoke to the boss and he said he didn’t want music in here at all.’ What now? Fine. Not really, but fine. He continues to apologise, saying he took it on himself to make the decision because he was convinced it would be OK. He feels terrible, he says. But now we’re here, and let down, he offers us a couple of rounds of drinks on the house. Can’t say no to that. Might as well. Once he’s organised that for us, he comes and hangs out and he’s really cool to talk to and it’s clear he’s all about making music live. I have the thought that maybe next time we’re in town things may be different for him so, as well has having email for this bar, maybe we should have his personal email so we can get in touch with him wherever he happens to be. He’s well up for that so great. Tonight might have been blown out but we feel this is a really positive Hamburg contact to have in the pocket. 

Once we’re done here, we slightly dejectedly take our gear back to the hotel and then go and take a walk down to the far end of the strip, but to an area we haven’t looked at before; it’s looked a bit posh and a theatre land kind of place so we’ve never thought it looked like a place to explore. But as we walk past the theatres, we see a bar with a chalkboard up promoting live music tonight. Standing right outside as a greeter and Covid pass checker is a girl who introduces herself to us as Leah. We ask what’s going on and she says it’s a solo cover act. Oh. OK. We explain what’s just happened to us and ask if we might be able to play in here tonight, maybe when the guy takes a break. She’s really positive about this and says that yes, we should definitely ask. She then tells us that all the staff here have heard all kinds of stories about the management of The Brauerei. OK. So this mean spiritedness we’ve experienced tonight sounds about par for the course. Good to know. 

We settle down in the venue as tonight’s performer, Orla, continues his set. When he finishes for his break, we tell him about our conversation with Leah, and that our show was cancelled tonight and ask if it would be OK for us to play during his break. He doesn’t have a problem with that at all and gladly helps us to set up. Brilliant. So we get all that organised and, as soon as we’re ready, introduce ourselves to the slightly bemused audience as a touring act. We then launch into a two song set of I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) and Rock’n’roll Tree. And with this, we’ve added a date to our tour schedule and introduced ourselves to another audience. A very roundabout way of operating, but we can now tick off job done for tonight. To be fair, this very quick impromptu, totally unexpected show is not without its sound issues, but the response from the audience is emphatic so we’ll take that.

We thank Orla and take our seats again, and then Leah comes up to congratulate us and to tell us of her own regular event in here which is coming up again on Sunday. She’s a songwriter herself, but says that audiences around here prefer cover songs so that’s what she does. Which means that her thing is kind of an open mic, but is really more an acoustic cover show which invites people up to sing, so kind of like a live acoustic karaoke with space for acts like ourselves. Wonderful. Consider us sold. We’ll see you there.

The Hamburg Diary, days 12 and 13

Day 12

Thursday March 10

Mark:

Our hustle target for today is The Irish Rover and Fleet Und Keiker, two venues that were mentioned to us by Sam at Indra. We take a walk out towards the city centre. Approaching The Irish Rover, we see a guy standing outside who we say hi to and quickly establish that he is the manager. He’s interested to hear our story and, as we continue, he becomes more and more animated and interested. By the time we’ve finished, he’s decided he’d love to give us a chance to play over this weekend and says we should maybe drop by later to confirm details. Wow. Brilliant. Thankyou very much. We resume our walk.

We arrive at the Fleet Und Keiker sometime mid to late afternoon. This is normally an ideal time to try to catch a bar in a quiet period and to be able to chat to a bar manager, but we’re discovering that this is a waking up holiday city and the concept of ‘normal ideal times’ means nothing here. The place is packed and the greeter seems seriously harassed. He suggests we return tomorrow sometime mid afternoon. We thank him for his time and leave him to frantically get on with it.

If we can catch someone at the right time, this looks like it really could be a good place for us. It’s an Irish bar welcoming Irish musicians, and is kind of a cellar bar accessed down a bunch of roughly cut, ancient looking stone stairs. And the interior appears similarly anciently appointed. Among the posters, well kept behind glass adorning the walls of the stairs is one celebrating the pubs of Cork, all arranged in a pint glass formation. Oh this is a trip down memory lane. All my old favourites are there, including Fred Zeppelins which is where I used to run an open mic night. I really thought the presence of such a poster, along with my own correlating experiences would have been something of a conversation starter, but no way. Not right now.

Before he disappears into the chaos, our greeter friend is kind enough to refer us to Paddys, an Irish bar very nearby. So we head down there to see if there could be anything going. Oh dear. The place looks lovely, but tiny. Not for us. Back to the Irish Rover it is. Ralph is still there just outside the door. We’re thinking of dropping in for a drink but the quiz, that was on when we passed by earlier, is still going and he tells us there’s not a seat to be had in the place. He also tell us that he was really thinking of putting us on tomorrow but he’s had a look round and discovered he can’t get enough staff to open the downstairs bar that he was hoping to put us in. Still, a very positive contact and this is definitely a place to mark and return to next time.

Back to drinks at the hotel bar, which leads to thoughts about what we’ve done here in Hamburg. We didn’t get exactly what we wanted in terms of stage time, but what we have got what we didn’t realise we actually needed; we’ve made so many contacts for the next time we’re in town. Just like we did in Berlin. Pitched against that criteria, our stay here, which has for much of the time threatened to be quite underwhelming, suddenly looks like an enormous success.

Day 13

Friday March 11

Mark:

We make it Fleet Und Keiker by 4pm but are totally taken aback by how busy it is again. Nowhere near as much as yesterday, but still. We settle in for a drink and, when a small opportunity opens, I go and introduce myself to the owner. Although clearly busy, he is interested to take the time to listen as I talk about us, and has a few questions, such as how long we’re around and the like. Well, we’re leaving Tuesday so we really don’t have much of a window. He says he has nothing at such short notice, but would be interested to hear from us when we return. Wonderful. The theme from last night continues.

Now it’s off for fish and chips in The Irish Rover which is quite simply one of the best fish and chips I’ve ever had. Ralph makes an appearance just as we’re leaving and we have a little hello with him, but we also get to meet quite a few of the bar staff, one or two of whom are from Ireland. Cards get passed around and, in all, we feel we really get to make quite a bit of a presence in here.

When we get back to our hotel, we discover the atmosphere is significantly more upbeat than it has been for our entire time here. An entire German stag party has descended upon us. And a very joyful and welcome diversion it is. A group of around ten guys are in our bar just heading out when we arrive and they hang around for a little longer as we all make our introductions to each other.

Maja:

The adorable stag night guys. Absolutely adorable. They felt so incredibly missplaced in an area of sex and rock n roll, such as the Reeperbahn actually is. As we talk to them, I just feel like we have to give them a little show, welcoming them to the place they actually are at. Keizbude on the Reeperbahn in Hamburg. So Mark gets the guitar, and I stand up on the bar, totally owning the space giving them a private performance of I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). They love it. 

As soon as we finish, they ask if we have any ideas of where they could go for their stag night, which is an odd question. If you just go out to the Reeperbahn, you’ll find so many places to go to. I recommend a transvestite burlesque bar that someone tried to get me and Mark to go to, but we never went. It’s way more fitting for a stag night than it is for two musicians just wanting to play gigs.

The Hamburg Diary, Day 14

Day 14

Saturday March 12

Mark:

A huge walk today as we simply take in the environs of Hamburg without any of the pressure of the hustle. Just a lovely walk with no ulterior motive. Oh that feels nice. And the sun is shining. We stroll down to the docks and walk along them all the way into the heart of the city, along the way stopping for crepes which we lazily consume while sitting at the water’s edge, contemplating the endless shipping and general docklife activity. 

Then up and away we go again, meandering through the crowds in a careless promenade. Reaching the far end of the docks and we come across a bridge and high walkway leading into the city centre. Why not? That takes us into the main shopping districts and back out to the lake before we start to think about maybe dropping in for a quiet drink somewhere. Maybe Paddys, the lovely, small Irish bar we came across a few days ago. We picture ourselves hanging out at the bar, chatting cosily to the regulars and bar staff and generally introducing ourselves to the scene a little more. When we catch sight of the place, we immediately realise none of that is going to happen. International rugby is on, and it’s England v Ireland in the six nations no less. One of the biggest matches in the calendar. So no. There’s going to be no quiet cosiness happening in here today. Oh well.

Back to the hotel for drinks it is, and the lads are there again so another lively hangout with them as we hear about their own assorted adventures on the Reeperbahn last night. We take it easy because we’re planning on something of a late night tonight. We want to go to Indra, arriving after the show there to maybe talk to Sam, tell him about the things we’re doing and see if any kind of tentative groundwork can be laid for a return visit. Apart from anything else, we think it would be good to catch him properly once more before we return home to Ireland.

When we get there, the place is every bit as quiet as we thought it would be and Sam once more welcomes us joyously. We are very warmly welcomed into the company of the bar and introduced to the off duty bar staff who are enjoying an afterwork drink. And some of Sam’s good friends are in and we meet and chat with them as well. It all feels like we’re among something of a secret Hamburg club, far away from the madness of clubland. A place where we can talk social and business, and generally continue our introduction to Germany and Europe. Given the connections Sam and his friends have to venues all over the place with their general live music business interests, this place really does seem like something of a gateway to Hamburg. And with Berlin and Hamburg being pretty much the central areas for music in Germany and Germany being something of a music centre for Europe, right here right now really is one of the best places we can possibly be.

It’s all rather wonderful and the guys are asking all kinds of interesting questions about us and our music. We talk to them a little about our story and they’re enraptured. We tell them of shows we’ve done in Berlin and Hamburg, and about plans we have for playing Ireland and America, and they lap it all up. Then, almost inevitably, they want to hear some music. We have something of a rough studio production of I Like You Better (When You’re Naked) but nothing with really high production values. But by now they’re so invested in the story they want to hear what we have. OK. Let’s have a listen. Sam is very keen to get this on and finally hear what we sound like, so he follows our instructions to the link and the song itself. He hits play and out it comes. Now, this song has elicited some of the strongest reactions I’ve ever seen to any original song in a bar environment. In The Trap in our first ever show, it was demanded as an encore after we’d first played it as our second song of the night. A few people told us it was the best song they’d heard in years, and a friend with some kind of links to the music business offered to buy it off us. Although yeah. I’m still not entirely convinced he was joking. At songwriter events, it has routinely been met by the biggest audience reaction of the night. And in all kinds of settings, we’ve had people come up to us out of nowhere and sing parts of it out to us. In short, it’s fair to say it’s a keeper. But as soon as it comes on here, as a cold, raw studio recording in a huge room, especially when coming on just after the full, classic, studio productions of high octane supergroup classics we’ve been listening to. it does admittedly sound just a little bit flat and quiet. And empty, being just acoustic guitar and vocal and nothing else. But still, all the joyous energy of the performances are still there, and a song is a song right? Wrong. I’ve actually known this as a fact for sometime, and have been advised on it when even thinking of pitching a song to industry professionals; don’t think people can hear the song shine out in its raw form. For most people, unless the full production is there, they have no idea what they’re listening to and this goes right to the top. Right now the production isn’t there, but we still think it sounds wonderful and fun and we dance joyously around the room as we hear it for the first time on enormous speakers, even as we know its sound doesn’t even begin to touch the huge budget productions we’ve been listening to all night. As soon as the song comes to a close and we return to the bar, it’s clear that our new friends only heard the production, or maybe didn’t really hear the song at all, or just didn’t like it. It wasn’t for them. Fair enough and absolutely, no harm and no hard feelings. Surprising and a little disappointing maybe, but in any creative endeavour you have to accept not everyone is going to like what you do, and that goes for every piece of music ever recorded, no matter how successful or universally lauded. What we’re not prepared for is what happens next. We simply cease to exist. The guys form a huddle and start talking – inexplicably still in English – about the most benign things imaginable. Like talking for the sake of talking. Not one person acknowledges our presence as all we can see is backs. I look at Maja and then back at people who, until just a few moments ago, we considered nascent friends. Now, because they didn’t quite connect with our song, we’re dismissed and totally judged as people they simply don’t want to know, or wish to be associated with. ‘This is ridiculous,’ I whisper to Maja. ‘So they didn’t like it, or maybe it didn’t sound great in here. Fair enough. But this?’ No. This is wrong. ‘I think we should just leave,’ I say. ‘Let’s just walk out the door right now and never come back.’ So that’s what we do. Without a glance behind us, without a word of thanks or goodbye, or any other kind of acknowledgement to our hosts, we slip silently out of the door and into the cold, but far more warmly inviting night. What. The. Hell. Was. That?

Maja:

I can’t understand what just happened. Absolutely not. But what I do understand is that no-one will accept a song they hear on speakers without a full production. But still, the behaviour they showed us is beyond unacceptable. I am angry. As we go outside I shake away the anger and let it be replaced with a feeling of ridicule. It’s too ridiculous not to laugh about. And I am utterly confident in our music, and I know that we’ll go all the way, so to ridiculous act like this. Well. At least it makes a fun story.

The Hamburg Diary, days 15 and 16

Day 15

Sunday March 13

Mark:

I wake up with a horrible feeling as thoughts of last night flood in along with the morning sun. I’m still hurt and insulted. And massively disappointed that our friendly ally could have revealed himself as such a superficial fake and turned on us like that. As we progress into the morning and debrief and digest what happened, we start to think that, apart from the fact that maybe we arrived Hamburg a little too early as it emerged from Covid restrictions, it really is essentially a coverbar/nightclubbing town and not worth coming back to for any kind of development. Apart from Tommy, not one person who said we could do something with them has come through. Not even, massively disappointingly, Sven – I might just give him a pass and say his intentions were pure and genuine but maybe there were too many other things going on for us to get full consideration. I mean, the guy gave us hugs and free drinks everytime we walked into his bar. But just like here, in so many other places also we’ve encountered so much huge and encouraging enthusiasm on the surface, giving us so much optimism, and none of it has ever translated into anything tangible. Not one person acted on it. Not one phone call or email. Not even when people promised to call back within an hour or two. And then last night just topped it off as Sam got written off. As the morning progresses we kinda get over it but no, we don’t really want to talk about it with each other. We silently agree to just forgot about those guys and move on. As we do, we agree we ain’t coming back to Hamburg until we’re playing the proper big places. And no. Sam will not be on the guest list.

Maja:

I can’t believe it either. Hurt is an underestimation. I loved the inclusive feeling we used to have at Sam’s, but after getting that kind of response, there’s no going back. After giving our everything to our art, I think we can be entitled enough to give our attention to people who actually believe in us. Sorry Hamburg. I’m starting to feel done with you.

Mark:

As we work into the day and start to feel active, we take the 40 or so minute walk out of the city to pick up the car and bring it back to the carpark near the hotel. It is now ready and waiting for our departure.

Then it’s chill time before we get ready to go out and play the last show of our European adventure. This is Leah’s open mic event at the Alt Liebe, the venue we played last minute on Thursday after our show at The Brauerei was cancelled. We get there and discover it isn’t an open mic as such as it is an acoustic cover show at which members of the audience can get up and do their thing. Which is normally sing a cover song or two with live backing. So, essentially a live acoustic karaoke with open-ness for other elements. Into which we fit. Leah plays pretty much the first half of the evening herself, then the floor opens up a little more in the second part of it all. During all this we get talking to a girl sitting next to us called Lulika who can’t get her head around being able to get up on stage, let alone the concept of doing it, or trying to do it in any professional capacity. In our chat she agrees to film us when our turn comes. When we get around to that, we’ve decided our two songs will be My Game My Rules and Six Sense Lover. Up we go and we tear into both of them.

Maja:

I get up on stage and as soon as I sing the first note I realise. I can’t hear myself at all. My heart drops like a stone but I go for it anyway. It seems like the audience can hear me so that’s something at least. But it just feels terrible. It’s really hard to perform but I can’t even be bothered to care about it. I just go for it. Even if it’s terrible, I gave it a proper shot.

Mark:

The reaction is promising and pretty cool, but it’s clear this crowd does go more for the covers, as they rave and cheer and whoop for that kind of thing when the singers get up. Fine. And they do give us a fair chance so that’s all cool. But there’s something about our performance that, after the event, makes us think we played far too fast and really didn’t do ourselves justice. Last night of the whole tour and we’re a little bit down with ourselves. But we have a recording. When we get back to the hotel, the first thing we do is listen to it. Oh. Oh. Oh. Wow. Really not bad at all.Would we put it up? Maybe, maybe not. But not anywhere near the trainwreck we really feared we’d delivered and certainly not too frenetically fast. Maybe a touch on the faster side, but not too fast. You learn and learn and learn. In the moment stage and live perception can often be so different to reality. But normally it’s the other way round to what we’re experiencing here; you think you’ve done a bang up show, everyone cheered and everyone’s patting you on the back and you think you knocked it out of the park. Then the next day you listen to it and you want to burn the tape. That is, if these things were still on tape. Here, we were convinced we’d delivered a disastrous mess but what we have is not just listenable, we realise it was actually really good. We’re stunned. With that, we really start to decompress, especially as we’ve been slightly tightly wound ever since we got off stage. Although we did all the right things afterwards, said thankyou at the right times and smiled all our smiles as though everything had gone exactly as we’d planned it to, inside we felt just that little bit deflated. Well, now we realise it actually had all gone as planned. And with that, ladies and gentlemen, we have concluded. Tour is done, lessons have been learned, and now with this new recording we can see and feel that our level really has gone up and up and up. We’re going to leave that there for now, get back to Ireland, shake all this off, and then start to put ourselves back together again musically with all we’ve learned and all we’ve developed since hitting the road in Berlin that first night back in the first few days of December at heavy metal bar Brette Bude. Oh damn, we really have not done this the easy way.

Maja:

Is there a easy way? I think we’re doing it the only way it can ever be done.

Day 16

Monday March 14

Mark:

We stay in all day today. A bit of writing in the bar, and also a little movie watching. But overall a total chill. And why not? All our hustling and playing is done. We’ve seen the city plenty and, above everything, we have a big travelling day tomorrow with Maja contemplating an epic drive. And the next day. This is going to take two days as we drive through Germany, Belgium and France, then an overnight ferry to Rosslare, right on the south east corner of Ireland, before driving through the countryside to home.

Maja:

After all that, I really think we need a sleepy day. Sleepy sleepy day. To sleepy sleep sleep.

And yes. I speak like that.

The Hamburg Diary, days 17 and 18

Day 17

Tuesday March 15

Mark:

Three countries today as we leave at midday and slowly pull out of Hamburg, getting a wonderful look at this enormous European port city with much of the road away from it and to the south winding a way up and around it all as we find ourselves in among cranes, ships and sea. And industry. So so much industry.

Then the open road as we drive through the slowly changing landscape crossing from Germany to Belgium, all the way through Belgium then into France, arriving at our motel sometime between 10pm and midnight. It’s a wonderful place. A perfect little double room with a shower that just feels like heaven. Next stop breakfast which we’re delighted to have included in our micro stay.

Maja:

I am glad that I like to drive since there’s a lot of driving to be done. I love watching the beautiful scenery flashing by. And I also think it’s so cool that the scenery keeps changing as you change countries. Germany with it’s deep forests doesn’t quite look the same as Belgium, and there’s an even bigger difference entering France, which offers stunning views of open fields. And with Mark talking about this, that and the other, it’s easy to keep entertained. 

Day 18

Wednesday March 16

Mark:

Up early for breakfast to get on the road in good time for the ferry. Yes, this is going to set us up well and it’s with some anticipation that we make our way to the dining area. We walk into a small, very quiet and clean cafe type environment and they’ve got all the little things you might expect in a few containers on the right as you walk in. Bread rolls, mini baguettes, cake, yep, actual cake, and the butters and jams and things. Then a little fridge containing yoghurt and juice. And tea available of course. And then… and then…we look around to see where the actual breakfast is, accepting far too slowly and reluctantly that this really is it. A few containers of cold bready/cakey things. And yoghurt. We laugh into our disappointment, accept it, fill up on as much of this as we can, and then hit the road again. To be fair, I thought the cake was quite nice.

On the way, I realise with some excitement that we’re in the Normandy region and are going to be driving fairly close to the D-Day beaches. As we progress and I start to see the map a little better, my excitement really rises as I realise we’re going to be driving within just a few miles of Omaha beach. Oh we have to. We just have to. We’ve had thoughts of a nice French restaurant dinner somewhere on the way, but we’re about to smash into those plans with a spectacular history trip to one of the most iconic battlefields of World War II. We find the car park in the shadow of the monument to what happened here. Directly underneath it we leave our shoes and socks and walk the whole way to the edge of the sea and ever so slightly into it. Then we turn and recreate the steps of the men who stormed this beach in 1944, marvelling in terrifying awe at the huge expanse they had to somehow negotiate to have any chance of making it to anything even remotely tentatively resembling safety. It’s actually an uncomfortable walk with the sand being very solidly packed and deeply ridged. If it was anything like that on that day, then the almost impossible task they faced now appears even harder. Back to our shoes and socks and we have a look around the rest of the area, including the museum which we don’t go into – we really don’t have time for that, but there’s plenty of hardware out front and back to take in. Including an actual landing craft and a huge World War I field gun turret. It’s grey and raining and a little cold and time to get going again anyway. But now, out of nowhere, we’ve had a trip to Omaha beach. Next stop, ferry on which, for the first time of all our sea trips, we have a cabin.

Or so we think. We have a short pitstop at a service station where Maja receives an email. The ferry has been cancelled. No idea why. There’s some rigmarole, during which for a while it looks like we might not even be able to travel until sometime next week. But then the company manages to put us on a replacement. Or something like that. Although we now have no cabin. Again. Damn. We just can’t catch a break with these things. OK, so on we go and we need to find somewhere comfortable enough to spend the night. And this is no silent ship like the last one we had on the way to Hamburg from Sweden. No, this one is full of other people who were bumped from the cancelled ferry and plenty of people who had a cabin but now don’t. We find ourselves in mutual consolation with a few of these people in a large dining type room at the front of the ship. With our guitar. After a while, a few people start to ask if we could play a tune or two, but we know they’re looking for songs they know. A bit of a sing song and the like. We decline, saying we only play our own songs. But as the ship leaves port and we all settle into the rhythm of the sea, a few people gently start to ask again. Among them are a group of six or seven guys from Cork, and a father and daughter sitting very close to us on a long couch type thing we’re sharing. When we insist they really won’t know anything that we’ve got, they say that’s fine, so we shrug and we’re like, OK. Might as well. There are a few other people dotted around this area and they look up with some mild interest as we get the guitar out and set ourselves up.

Maja:

As soon as I set foot on the ferry, it’s like the air changes. It’s so obvious to me, like I could touch it. Almost like a taste on my lips. A taste of freedom. A taste of warmth and welcomeness. It’s the people. Everyone around me is so friendly. They speak with laughter in their voices. With kindness. Even though a lot of the people on this ferry are very disappointed that the ferry they were supposed to travel on got cancelled, the feeling of happiness is larger than anything. I think I’d describe it as jolly. And once again I think to myself. I love Ireland.

Mark:

It can sometimes be a songwriter thing to ask if people want a fast of a slow song. When I’ve been in an audience I don’t think I’ve ever asked for a slow one. I’m surprised when that’s the consensus here. Oh. OK. So we settle wonderfully into Insanity. 

Immediately they’re with us and a few raised eyebrows show that a few people are thinking, Oh, we might just have something here. We finish to enthusiastic applause and requests for more, and let’s go fast now. So we do. We’re off now. By our second song they’re just into it and the people dotted around our section have started to move closer. A few of the staff have now stopped what they’re doing and the people in the bar area are now looking over here with some considerable interest. We finish the second and our small original group, especially the guys from Cork are saying, ‘You guys are not stopping anytime soon.’ Wow. Songs they’ve never heard before, and they are really, truly, into it. The boat is really rocking now. No. Really. The sea has picked up underneath us and is picking the ship up with it and as we sway to our own music, we almost lose our balance a few times. As Maja tries her standing on a chair performance, she’s having to have one foot on a table to stop herself from crashing to the floor and, at the first opportunity, abandons all thought of continuing to perform from up there. 

All this is adding to the drama and pure epicness of what’s going on right now and, by the third song we have an actual substantial audience as almost everyone in earshot is gathered loosely around us and all talk in the bar area has totally ceased, all eyes on what’s going on over here. We end up playing for 25 minutes to half an hour, finishing to a great reaction and genuine gratitude for what we’ve just unexpectedly brought onto the ship. We declare ourselves done and are met with, ‘We’ll let you take a short break.’ The guy who says it is only half joking, but people drift away and yes, we are done because, apart from anything else, 25 minutes to half an hour is generally a full show as far as we’re concerned. And this one has been the best show of the whole Hamburg experience and one of the most exhilarating and exciting shows of the whole tour. Still doesn’t quite top the incredible night of Laksmi and a Zum Krokidil performance or two are up there as well. But yes, this is one of the more memorable moments and it’s come out of absolutely nowhere. Thankyou for persuading us guys. It’s a perfect way to finish the tour which might not quite have taken in as much of Europe as we wanted, but which has concluded with us playing while travelling on the open water between France, the UK and Ireland. As a result, although this possibly isn’t totally geographically accurate, we’ve just instantly added three countries to the tour itinerary. So yes. Right at the very last we’ve managed to make it into an actual European tour.

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