We are Mark and Maja

We write songs and tour as The Diaries
We live life
We write about it in The Diaries

We are looking to join a tour anywhere in the world as a support act.

This site contains diary material posted so far. Much more, including extra detail on our story, is available on request.

Below you will find more details on ourselves and extracts from The Diaries.

The Diaries

Synopsis

February 2021: 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.

Additional websites also containing potential material for publication

Mark’s Diaries: Seven years in the life of a professional bass player
Maja’s Diaries: The journey from absolute beginner to professional musician
Markthebassist.net: Mark’s professional website designed by Maja

About us

Mark:
In my previous life as a journalist I became the go-to music writer for the Cork Evening Echo, also contributing to Hot Press, Ireland’s number one music magazine. After The Echo I became the editor of Backstage Traffic, a bi-weekly glossy magazine that covered the city’s music scene. There were also a few guest appearances on Irish TV and radio.

A short journey through my media history before Ireland: England correspondent for India’s weekly million selling current affairs magazine The Week. Editor for Leisuretime, a weekly entertainment supplement inserted into 11 newspapers across London. Editor of the hugely exciting men’s lifestyle It Magazine which didn’t quite make it out of the nineties. 

While on the surface of things I was enjoying a successful media career, my heart was really in music and I played bass in a number of bands, generally as the main songwriter. And for around a year I hosted the legendary singer/songwriter night at Cork’s Fred Zeppelins.

After illness forced me out of journalism and I somewhat made a recovery, I decided to devote myself to playing bass on the rich professional cover scene of Ireland, traveling all over the country with many bands playing bars and weddings.

Leaving Ireland for Madrid, I played in yet more bands there over a six year period before, in the summer of 2014, deciding to try the professional music scene on eastern coast of Spain. This episode saw the beginning of Mark’s Diaries which led directly to a move to London. Soon after Maja made her own move there, I switched from bass to guitar, at the same time ending Mark’s Diaries and beginning The Diaries. Which brings us right up to where we are.

Maja:
I first picked up the bass at the age of 15 when trying to start a rock band in my home of Stockholm. The band, and my bass playing, went nowhere and in May 2020 I decided to try again. This time it was different and I soon joined my first band. 

Before the age of 15 I hadn’t really done that much with music at all. As a child I was in a choir, tried to learn the violin for a year, and showed a brief interest in guitar, but that was it. In truth, I was more dedicated to my studies.

At university I often took on a double workload across a variety of subjects and research projects, along the way attending seven different universities. This included conducting research at Keio University in Japan, in the process learning fluent Japanese. At the end of it all, from Lund University, I received my masters degree in Science and Engineering specialising in Communication Systems.

I then became a computer engineer specialising in cloud infrastructure at several exciting tech companies. 

And so I remained until The Diaries were formed and I decided to focus on singing.

Extract:
From Saturday April 17, 2021

Mark:

During the day I tell one of our regulars I’m quitting the bar job. He naturally asks for the why and I tell him some of our story. As I get deeper and deeper into it, he collapses more and more in laughter at the continuing absurdity, not least the fact that right now this very moment, my girlfriend, who I met online and who came from Sweden to stay in lockdown London seeking temporary respite when her world fell apart, is lying in our bed, right above the room I used to share with my former girlfriend, who is still living there by the way, and there as we speak. It takes him a while to grasp the fact that we are all actually living in the same house. And that I’m about to move to Ireland with this girl who I met less than two months ago and with whom I’ve already moved house twice, the second one back to where we started as we fled the crazy naked communal, musical living situation we’d walked into which just happened to come with an offer of a free apartment which never fully materialised. That’s all before you consider the fact that me and Maja became an item on the way from the airport to my house during what was supposed to be a friendly visit, and were talking about having kids together less than a week later, shortly after, deciding to get married and tour the world playing songs we haven’t written yet with Maja having never played a single live show in her life. We were planning on leaving for Ireland next week to get started, but of course a few days ago she broke her ankle walking back from the bar.

This guy is a head cameraman who works on top Hollywood productions. As I’m talking, he stops me and says, ‘You do realise that if you pitched this whole thing as a movie idea it would be rejected as being too implausible?’ I nod. I know. ‘But you’re telling me all this actually happened?’ Yep. He shakes his head in disbelief and acceptance. ‘If it’s a true story, that’s totally different,’ he says. ‘What I’m really reminded of is Catch Me If You Can, a story you could never get away with apart from the fact that it’s all true.’ This is a Steven Spielberg movie starring Matt Damon. Then my friend says, ‘You also realise that there’s too much here for a movie? It would have to be a TV series.’ Took the words right out of my mouth. That’s exactly where we think this is ultimately all going. We very much agree with him on the implausibility factor as well.

Maja:

I remember when we walked down the streets of Camden, joyfully giggling and shouting at times: “We need to fire our script writer, this is all too crazy!” Just too many things that have been happening lately that it stopped making sense ages ago. One enormous development after the next, and I, for the life of me, would never have been able to foresee what would happen next. When Mark comes home and tells me about his conversation today, I feel oddly validated. Yes, it’s not only me. This really is a bit over the top.

Extract: November 6, 2021

The Trap, Clara, County Offaly, Ireland

The Diaries’ debut and Maja’s first ever gig.

Maja:

When we walk into the bar it’s loud. The football is on, I don’t know who’s playing but there’s a couple of guys watching it on the big screen. There’s also horseracing on and there’s a bunch of older men right by the stage area loudly and drunkenly watching it. They’re betting money and are very verbal, not really wanting to leave their seats for us to set up. At the stage there is a table with a bunch of guys sitting and drinking there, and we have to move them to make the stage ready. It really feels like no-one there wants to see us. At all. They’d much prefer if we’d just go away. Many of our acquaintances are nowhere to be seen, including the bar owner, which is a bit sad. I don’t really know how to do a soundcheck, this is my first time so I feel OK with taking it a bit easy and letting Mark lead. I’m helping with putting things up, getting some water, moving people and chairs out of the way. We also get the barman to turn off the sound of the football. The feeling of the pub is quite unwelcoming but we’re doing our soundcheck, trying to get the levels right, which seems quite impossible. The guitar just won’t go quite loud enough without getting feedback. Mark keeps moving back and pulling the guitar mic back, but the feedback keeps creeping in before he can get the dial high enough.We really need an electro acoustic and we’re going to buy one before the next gig, but for now this is what we have and it’ll have to do. The guitar is there, but low, and you’re mainly going to hear my voice. That’s just going to be how it is. We’re as ready as can be.

Mark:

We’re supposed to start at nine, but we’re ready a little early. I have a feeling the natives are getting restless and I feel me and Maja are fit to burst and ready to go. A mixture of nerves, adrenaline and curiosity. Maybe not nerves, just the sheer curiosity of the thing. Like, how is this going to go down? Can we please just find out now. So we declare ourselves ready and set ourselves up to go. As we stand there, side by side, poised, about to launch into the unknown, people are looking at us with their own curiosity. And, it has to be said, scepticism. But, I think, scepticism of the I-hope-they’re-good kind. Yeah, I think they’re on our side. But that can change very quickly.

I give four strong percussive beats on the guitar and we’re off, Maja coming in two and a half beats after me. We’re in. Your Smile Is Going Round.

Maja:

We’re in. Straight off the bat. The plan is to do two upbeat and quick songs to get people’s attention. But directly, as I start to sing the first words: ‘ I knew it in a heartbeat…’ you can hear the speakers screaming with feedback. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. This can’t be happening. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no no no no. I quickly step back to avoid the feedback, I think I’m standing too much in front of Mark so the sound waves are getting thrown about all wrong. Maybe, I don’t know. But there’s no time, if I stand where I am right now, I hope there won’t be any more feedback. I hear Mark stop playing to do something, but I trust him. I don’t even have to look at him. I just continue to sing. Looking out at the audience, using my whole body. I’m a bit disappointed that I feel blocked by the guys that are sitting and watching the horse racing, but I can’t move. I’m here and that’ll have to do. Let’s just own it.

By the end of the first song, they’re watching me instead of the TV.

Mark:

Oh damn. That feedback. I thought we’d got it under control in soundcheck but no, we didn’t and it’s screaming out a little too loud a little too often. Oh dear. The audience doesn’t like it and, as friendly as they’ve been individually, and as much as it seems like they’re giving us a chance, as a pack, they could be ready to turn at anything like this. We are still very much the new guns in town. As much as we’ve got ourselves known a little recently, we have absolutely no history with these people. You really don’t get much leeway. And feedback to an audience on the edge is like movement to a T-rex in hunting mode. I actually stop playing mid verse. I don’t even communicate this to Maja, who just naturally carries on singing which is exactly the right thing to do. I go to the mixing desk and very quickly pull the main fader down. This is not a scientifically measured adjustment. It’s just, get this damn thing lower than it is now. Anywhere lower. Just stop that feedback. It stops but the whole process has felt like it took a long time, but no. I’m still in with Maja and the room still seems to be in with us. Got away with it? I have no idea but we’re still alive for now and that’s all that counts. 

I’ve been concentrating so much through this initial period, thinking about the problems with the sound and then dealing with the horrible diversion of having to stop mid song. In the first song. I haven’t at all taken the chance to look around. But I look up now and we do seem to be holding some kind of attention. OK. It’s starting to feel good. I look to my right and Maja doesn’t seem to be affected at all. Either that or she’s pulled in huge levels of professionalism in her first ever gig and just ridden the storm. She’s just powering away, moving, getting into it. Dancing like no-one is watching. She didn’t even look at me the whole time. No. We have not had that moment of, ‘What the hell is going on?’ So we can get through this song and move onto the next one. Hopefully we can get through without issues.  We might, even, just get away with it. Maybe, just maybe.

We hit our last notes, guitar and vocal ending at the same time, and the room erupts. Whistles, cheers, whooping, all round clapping. Oh. OK. But we stick to the plan. No chat. Hit them again immediately with the next one. Which is A Listing. This is a song I wrote with Rick for the Drunken Monkees’ album in Madrid and me and Maja have reworked. I think we’ve come up with a really cool version of it. Let’s see.

No feedback.

From the speakers that is.

From the audience:

The phones come out. People start filming. From all angles. This is a pub with corners. Now people start to emerge from them. To join us in here, in the main space.

Maja hasn’t flinched. Hasn’t shown the slightest sign of blinking through our early crisis. 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, 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:

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:

Some guys emphatically call me over. 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.


This is what we do

We believe society wants and needs new music that comes from the heart

However, most hits are now written by using algorithms

We don't have a record deal yet, but then, most record companies keep most of the money anyway and then find ways to take the rest

Streaming pays next to nothing

Bars generally don't pay original acts, but we understand and have no problem with that

Which is exactly why we have the hat

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