Day one
Wednesday August 24
First, much of our time for the foreseeable here will be days of continuing to record our debut album and as we said a Diary or so ago, we won’t be chronicling that day by day or session by session. Instead we’ll wait until the album is done and then give a little (or not so little) rundown on how the recording of each song went. So expect whole chunks of days with little or no Diary content and assume we’re either in the studio or just doing not much of anything at all. Assume we’re in the studio.
But first we have to get there and we drive through Ireland today from the south and we’re back home by 1pm. During that last little leg we have a chat about this thing we do when we just turn up and play and decide to call it the Now Hustle.
Day two
Thursday August 25
Right. We’re going to have a nice few chilled non playing days and/or go into the studio. Not so. Maja decides she wants to carry right on playing and announces she’s found an open mic in Dublin tonight, which would make it our first ever Dublin appearance. Oh. OK. Yes. Lets. It’s at a place called Ma O’Reilleys in Rathmines in the southern area of the city, a little way from the main touristy hustle and bustle of Templebar.
We drive up there, all packed up with our usual car supplies. I’ve never gone on such a mission for an open mic before. Yet another first I suppose. We find Ma O’Reilleys and it looks really quite small from the street. But once inside, it goes back and back, as so many bars in Dublin do. And then, past the quite small initial bar area, you descend a small flight of stairs and there’s the wide open venue area. All old style, charming uneven floor and large upturned barrels for tables. You know the thing. Then, past the stage, the venue continues on the right hand side with even more seating and tables. These places really do go on and on.
We’re introduced to host Dave, otherwise known as Chef, and with that, we’re on the list and all set. Before it all starts, we chat to a few people and it’s generally a really welcoming atmosphere. In contrast to at least one open mic you may remember us playing in Hamburg where, while it wasn’t quite unwelcoming, the performers just didn’t mingle too much and we barely spoke to anyone. Here, as I expected really given my extensive experience of the Irish open mic scene, there really is a sense of community as we watch so many interactions going on all over the place. And some of them come and say hello to us. Berlin was a bit like this too to be fair. We also chat to a guy sitting behind us who’s never played an open mic, but would like to and is here tonight to see how it all goes down. It’s really cool to be able to give him a few pointers and, hopefully, a little encouragement for his own future performances.
When our turn comes, Maja heads to the stage and I hang back somewhere in the middle of the room, guitar on. Our wireless is all plugged into the mixing desk and we’re ready to go. As Maja’s standing there, one of the earlier performers sees me all primed and comes up to me to ask when I’m going on. Now, I say. I’m with her. ‘Oh, I really didn’t realise. OK.’ With that, I can see the very real interest with which he is now regarding us, one performer on stage, the other essentially still with the audience. And it begins. Maja holds the stage for a while as I charge all around the place. Then I make my way to the stage and it’s Maja’s turn to come out and roam. Then, when we hit a gentle part of our two song set I spot an empty stool at a large table near the stage with six or seven people sitting round it. I gently wander over to their table and sit down and join them, still playing while Maja continues to do her thing. Then, as we explode, I’m up again. Then we’re both on the stage, then exit stage right, exit stage left to continue to work the venue. Yep. We certainly are giving an account of ourselves at our first Dublin appearance and our first Irish open mic.
When it’s all over, we head back to our seats, greeted all the way down the venue. And especially at the back as our virgin open mic friend exuberantly receives us. When the time comes to leave, we’re called over by a few guys who are clearly among the top music dogs around here. First, they just want to say great show. Second, they eagerly want to tell us about another open mic in town we really should check out. At the Eile in Templebar. Brilliant. Thanks a lot lads. We’ll check it out.
Day three
Friday August 26
Right. Time to call Roy, our prospective Irish booker, or whatever it is he’s thinking of doing with us. Remember him? He’s the guy who said he saw us in our last show at The Trap. The 3 Arena booking guy who said he could get us big shows and we should call when we get back from Europe. It’s with some anticipation that I’ve been waiting to make that call and the time is now. I call from my English number, the number that’s on our cards. No reply. Oh. That’s anticlimactic. It happens. OK. A little later I call from my Irish number. The phone is answered and I introduce myself as Mark from The Diaries. The line cuts. I call again and get an engaged tone. OK. Phone issues. So I send an SMS. Mark here, guy you saw and asked to get in touch. Phone issues. Call me when you get the chance. I am paraphrasing here. I’ll tell you now, that message is never replied to and no call comes. This is disappointing to say the least and we’re having trouble getting our heads round it. We have to conclude that Roy’s been round the town for ages talking himself up and basically acting the big I Am. Then when he’s introduced to someone and actually has to deliver, he’s essentially and inadvertently had his bluff called. Now the time has come and he can’t actually follow up and deliver on anything he’s always said he is. Meaning the guy’s a bluffer, an imposter, a fraud and a general spouter of hot air. It becomes clear what’s happened. I’ve called on my UK number, the number on the card and he’s recognised it and ignored it – Oh damn. I can’t talk to those guys. I have nothing and I’m just going to be exposed for the charlatan and big talking wannabe that I am. Then, when I’ve called on the Irish number, he’s quickly realised I’ve got him and hung up in a panic. Now he’s been found out, backed into a corner and he has no idea how to respond. So he doesn’t. Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t like us afterall, you may be thinking. Maybe. Well, the big man, or an actual real big man, would take the call, apologise, say he’s decided we’re not quite for him afterall and wish us luck. But no. The second he’s been asked to step up and stand behind his words he’s gone and hid behind them instead. Pathetic. And yeah. As we absorb his failed contact with reality, initially very disappointing. We really thought we had something here. But all along, that little token of promise we’ve been carrying around with us for the past few weeks has turned out to be a forgery all along. Oh well. We carry on.
We do that immediately with Maja talking to the Songwriter Collective running that open mic we were told about at Bar Eile. We’re on the list for this coming Wednesday.
Day four
Saturday August 27
We haven’t yet done it but we have had a go at trying to couch surf on our tours, but ended up doing the hostel/hotel/camping thing. But we’re on the system so if you’re asking you really have to be offering as well, and we are. This afternoon we receive our first guest, an American living in Dublin and having a bit of a bike travel around the country. At around 4pm we’re very happy to welcome Quirk to our house and he’s a fantastic guest and the three of us just get into it with a lovely lazy afternoon. It’s pretty cool when we take him out back to show him where he can park his bike and also to introduce him to our back garden. He’s totally blown away when he sees what this place is. An enormous gravel and moss expanse dominated by two old style 19th century ruined mill buildings, in between which you walk to come to the river at the bottom of it all. Yes, it is a spectacular setting to be living in and to have as your own private garden. And fantastic to experience the wonder of it through someone else’s eyes.
After that, we settle a bit, then it’s drinks in the garden in the shadow of ‘our’ mill buildings. Then a roast dinner before we head out to introduce him to some of the wonderful nightspots of Clara, in tonight’s case, The Trap and then Nigel’s Place. He’s found us by reading this very Diary and decided he just had to see our world for himself. So yeah, before we go out we give him a live blast in the kitchen of I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Out into The Trap and the regulars do us proud, especially when I introduce Quirk for the first time and one of our friends sings back at me, ‘I like you better when you’re naked.’ Yep. He’s now seen it for himself. It really happens.
Day five
Sunday August 28
After a great night last night, which continued back at ours until sometime around 3/4am, we’re all off to bed. We knew Quirk was off this morning by 7:30am. We said goodbye last night. No way we were getting up that early. We come down to a wonderful bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen table. Class. He could have presented it last night and had us say thankyou and everything, but then we all know it would have been opened last night – what else would you do? But no. He clearly wanted us to have it to ourselves and us alone, so he’s just dropped it silently into being. Thankyou very much night. It was amazing to meet you and what a wonderful night.
Day five
Wednesday August 31
Another day, another Dublin open mic. This time at Bar Eile just south of Templebar. We get there early because we intend to do a bit of a hustle around Templebar. This is intended to be a Now Hustle, so we may get a show or two or even three in before the open mic tonight. Just imagine that. Turning up to an open mic for the first time and telling people you’ve already played three shows that day. Afterall, we managed to play four times by around 8pm in The Hague in our one day there, so Templebar? We’ve really got this, right?
Wrong.
I really don’t want to get into writing detail about this. Bottom line. It took us around four hours and six kilometres of walking and hustling to discover that Templebar is not the place for us. Not a single sausage could be found. Sure, original gigs do happen plenty around here. But for a Diaries’ Now Hustle, that dog just don’t hunt. Everywhere, and I mean everywhere, was coverbar city or just not suitable for us – a lot of bars with lots of different little sections and alcoves. Lovely for hangouts, not so lovely for creating an all in it together show atmosphere. That’s not to say the day went off without its mild interest in what we were doing, but to actually get in and play somewhere, just no. Like Galway, we discovered that Templebar is just too bang on tourist and cover oriented with so many bars having booking agents, or their music just totally tied up. And with it being a Now Hustle, we carried our gear around for those six kilometres without getting the relative rest of a gig. We’re hurting by the time we hobble back to Bar Eile. OK. At least we’ve learned a lesson from another crash and burn. Let’s just do a nice open mic, introduce ourselves to these lovely people and go home.
We do indeed find a friendly and welcoming crowd, and a few familiar faces from Thursday at Ma O’Reilleys. One of them, singer/ songwriter Mark L’estrange, runs his own podcast interviewing creative people including songwriters. We get talking to him and he really likes our story and asks if he could do an interview with us there and then. Brilliant. Yes. He’s as delighted as we are as he says he’s never done of these live and in situ before. So we do our first ever interview as an open mic is going through its soundcheck.
You can hear that here:
https://open.spotify.com/episode/1HNfnzlTVgJkA6JamzPSl3
And see Mark’s Spotify site here:
https://open.spotify.com/show/5TCdO32br6Kphg2cCTnmiq
As for this being an open mic, it isn’t actually called that, instead it’s called the Songwriter Collective and is run by email with all the performers already arranged to play and is in a function room above the pub meaning that while it is actually open to the public, it’s not so much advertised or set up as such. This is a place for songwriters to come together, play their songs to each other and maybe try out their own new material in a forgiving and supportive environment. Cool. We’re down with that.
When our turn comes, we blast into I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) with Maja on the stage area and me running all around the place. She will have her turn out here of course as we develop and get into our thing. Only, tonight is one of those nights and we don’t. Halfway through I sense something’s wrong. The guitar’s tuning seems off. Then, as I’m pondering this, the top string just goes. It just goes. Bang and it’s broken. I stop, then Maja, confused, stops, and I say, ‘Sorry guys. A string has just broke.’ Then someone points out that no it hasn’t. Instead, the string bridge pin – the thing that holds the string – has come loose. Oh. OK. I pop it back, retune, and we’re off again. We just about limp to the end of the song when I see that it’s come loose again and, like our painful walk that got us to this venue in the first place, I barely limp along to the end. I do this by trying to stay away from the E string as much as possible. That done, I try to get the pin back in again but it just ain’t happening. I’ll say now that this is all happening live on stage with an expectant audience and I want to get the show back on the road, like, now. So it’s fair to say my presence of mind to do the right thing isn’t quite right. The right thing would be to calmly take the peg out altogether, detune the string, then put the peg in, just like you were restringing a guitar, and tune up again. All sorted. But no. I’m trying to get it in with the string fully tuned up. I even start to try to hammer it in with the capo – gently-ish. But hammering and generally making banging noises all the same. Do not try that at home. Or at an open mic with an audience of musicians watching. No-one will lend you a guitar. Or something like that. Another thing that could happen is your string bridge pin could totally break in two.
So that’s all we get to do and I am not a happy bunny. In the heat of the moment, all I can think is, one broken guitar. In the middle of a show. But it’s only a pin thing, but still, apart from the guitar, that’s one broken performance and we’ve come all this way, walked all round what is essentially the capital of Ireland’s music scene for no result, and now this. Not even a full account of one song after driving – and walking – all this way.
But yet again, we discover we only need one song to make an impact and that sometimes it really can all be about just making that three or so minutes happen. After we’ve stayed to enjoy the rest of the performances, we have a steady stream of people coming to greet us and say how much of an impact we had tonight. A standout is someone who says, ‘You guys had us pinned to the wall.’ OK. We have managed to make it all worth it.
Day 25
Tuesday September 20
It’s that time again, with Maja taking a 10 day trip to visit Sweden. So take it that not much is going to happen in Diaryland until at least the first days of October.
Day 37
Sunday October 2
Maja’s birthday and we decide this is going to be done with a day out in Athlone. And we really do Athlone quite well, hitting all the bars we’ve seen and hustled and really liked the look of. Sean’s Bar, the first place we hit, remains the highlight of what is a great day. Apart from anything else, this is possibly the oldest bar in the world; no-one actually knows for a fact the oldest, but Sean’s Bar dates back to the 900s and, at the very least, is acknowledged as the oldest bar in Europe. And what a place. The main front bar, while wonderfully appointed, feels like a trip back in time, complete with a part of the original ancient wall mounted behind glass. The bar staff are knowledgeable, proud of their place of work, and enthusiastic to answer questions and engage in discussion about the building and it’s history, or anything else you care to chat about really. Including guiding you through the drink options. Yes, they really know their stuff in here.
Then, if you pass through the bar, there’s is plenty more to explore as the place has expanded and expanded through the years. It just goes on and on, right out back and up a flight of stairs and into a whole other bar. Empty right now, but also with a great selection and all set up for a birthday party for later. We hi-jack the party decorations and take a few photos with Maja, making it look like all this was laid out for her.
After Sean’s Bar, we also take in Peddlar Macs, a huge and cavernous live music venue which we have almost all to ourselves right now. So we settle in at the bar, chat to the bar staff and watch the football. Then it’s off to The Dark Horse. This is a venue we’ve always very much wanted to play, but anytime we’ve been here, there’s been either no manager around or the staff has simply been too busy to really be able to try to talk to. It’s like that today as well but anyway, we’re not on the hustle. Instead, we settle in as punters only and enjoy the attentions of the very friendly and accommodating staff. While here, it’s time for lunch/dinner, and that’s provided with a simply amazing nacho plate. Three bars and Athlone, you have served us very well today. We might have visited more places, but with the footy on, a few bars were too rowdy for our purposes here today, so we very happily take what we got.
Now for the train back to Clara and once there, we continue with the day, first dropping into Dolans. We’re there, enjoying a quiet pint and chatting with a few of the regulars when Maja gets a gentle tap on the shoulder. It’s someone saying a friend of theirs has recognised us from seeing us live. That friend has only ever seen us on video, was too shy to come herself, and we’re now being asked if we could go down into the next bar room to meet her and get some pictures. Absolutely. Down we go – it’s a split level bar, so a few steps down. We meet the friend who says very little and doesn’t even look at us that much. We happily pose for pictures with her. Then everyone else with her wants to have their picture taken with us too. We’re only too happy to do that as well. That done, it’s us who gratefully offer our thanks, and we head back up. ‘The price of fame eh?’ says one of our companions. Yeah. Apparently that happens to us now.
After this, we go to The Trap to finish off. There, word of Maja’s birthday gets around and she’s pulled into dancing with a whole bunch of people before having Happy Birthday sung for her. What a wonderful way to round off what has been an absolutely fantastic day.
Day 41
Thursday October 6
We decide to take some time out from recording to go hustling again. You might remember we checked out Mullingar some time ago, so today we go to do it for real. When we arrive and park, we see a pub straight across the road and go and introduce ourselves. The place is called Columbia, and the manager is outside the main bar under some kind of alcove and organising the slightly outdoor seating area. We have a quick chat with him and immediately he’s like, ‘Yeah sure. Come back at eight. We have a comedy night on. You can play before that if you want.’ Job done.
Out and back into the town and we think about places we saw last time, and decide to go for a bar called Dolans. We go in and it’s all a slightly older crowd. The guy behind the bar, who’s called Kian, is a supervisor rather than a manger, but in a rare departure from convention, he says no problem. Go for it. Brilliant. He may well have been prompted by the locals’ reaction to us turning up with a guitar because as soon as we walked in, they perked up and asked if we were going to play for them. ‘If the boss will have it,’ I say. Cue Kian.
We start to set up and people start to ask what we play. When we say it’s poprock and our own originals, some disappointment goes up that we’re not trad. One guy actually finishes his pint and walks out in some level of protest or disappointment, but everyone else stays, fuelled by a quite strong sense of curiosity.
As soon as we start, we feel their polite curiosity turn to, first something approaching acceptance, then, among some at least, maybe even a gleeful enjoyment. We’re doing well if there’s ten people in here, but almost all of them are tapping their feet and some are trying to sing along. Yes. Early walkout notwithstanding, we have won this little crowd over.
We play our four songs and then finish with all good wishes being called out. Now we head to a bar called Dalys. It’s a little after 7pm and if we can get a quick yes, we can fit another gig in before Columbia.
In Dalys we meet barmen Dan and John who say the manager is around somewhere. We wait a while, with Dan in particular being very interested to hear what we’re about. But time ticks by and there’s no sign of the manager. We’re asked if we can come back another day, but no. We’re doing Mullingar today and no idea when we might return. It’s clear the manager is far too busy to see anyone and time starts to press us to get to Columbia for eight. We thank Dan and John for their time and interest and head on over.
Once in Columbia, we’re led through the bar to the comedy room, which is in a small beer garden, meaning it’s outside. Oh OK. Cool. Maja is wearing her most flamboyantly colourful jacket meaning people assume she’s a comedian. Well, she is here to perform so it’s good she stands out. But no. We’re here to do our thing before the comedy. While Maja sets up, I go back out into the bar area to tell people who we are, what we do, and to let them know we’re about to start. I succeed in pulling a few people in, one of whom is a fledgling singer songwriter himself and really keen to check us out.
It’s not quite 8pm, but the small beer garden is now about as full as it can be so we might as well start. All I can say is we just rock the place. We’re all over it, with Maja at times totally dominating the stage and then the whole space. By the time we’re finished, after five songs and an encore, we’re totally spent and it feels the audience isn’t far behind us. I think we’ve set it all up pretty well for the comedians now. Come in and do your thing. We were planning on sticking around for some of that, but we think it’s the right time now to just say thankyou and make an exit and head on home. No more hustling for tonight. So that’s what we do.
Day 42
Friday Oct 7
Another day, another hustle. And why not? Let’s just keep going. Dublin today, or more accurately, the outskirts of Dublin, as we decided after our Templebar debacle. And to be even more accurate, Dalkey. A wonderful looking small town we discovered last Friday on a drive and walk around after a city based errand. It’s a really lovely looking, high end town, full of images you might see on a postcard and restaurants for that special occasion. And it fits into our thoughts of hustling out of centre Dublin towns to try to attack Dublin that way rather than penetrate the centre which, as we discovered, is already pretty sewn up. If we can build a reputation in Dublin out here, maybe that could carry us into the centre.
We start at the top of the town, planning to work our way down. We do that very quickly because every venue says no, although we do get a few invitations to come back some other time. This isn’t quite as brutal a rejection as it may seem. In some places the manager wasn’t around, while a few have other things going on tonight so experimenting with something brand new and unseen isn’t really on their agenda. Fair enough.
We get to the end of the road – literally – and all that’s left to try is the Dalkey Duck. We go in and meet the manager, Joel, just as he’s leaving for the night. He has his coat on, backpack. All ready to go. But he stops and is happy to have a little chat with us and listen to our pitch. Very simply, he says, ‘I likek it. Have a look around. See where you think and go for it.’
And so we do, setting ourselves up in the centre of four sections of a very alcoved bar. So we’re not really playing to any section, but are instead able to wander about and have a go at all of them. And yes it works. We really work all the areas, pull most people into seeing what we’re about, and yes, they very much talk to the hat afterwards. Dalkey, and especially Joel, you came through in the end. Thankyou very much.
Having exhausted the possibilities here, we’re not entirely sure what to do next so we decide to head on home, but avoid the motorway for a while to keep an eye out for potential places. In this way we find ourselves driving through the village of Sallynoggins, which has one huge pub, seemingly situated behind a petrol station. We go and park up and walk in with all our hustling gear. When we do this, we do this ready to go, even if the car is right outside and it’s the only place in town/the village.
We go in and the place really is absolutely cavernous. There’s a bar at the far end, not much tableage in between us and it, and all the way off to the left are some stairs leading up to another raised level which could be a huge stage if they chose to play it that way. It looks like the place could hold a few thousand people all standing and staring at that stage if someone were to take on that challenge. As for the locals, they really aren’t taking advantage of this enormous place they have and most action is around the bar with high tables there, and people sitting around the actual thing. We go and are directed towards a guy called Dylan who, like Kian just yesterday in Mullingar, is a supervisor rather than a manager. But, just like Kian, he very quickly and easily says, ‘Cool with me guys,’ and points us to the actual stage area, across from the bar and in the corner, to the right of the front door as you come in. We go and set up over there and almost immediately, stage lighting comes on and bathes us. But we have no intention of staying here for our show.
As we set up, a few regulars are very interested to hear what’s about to happen, and a few in particular really want to hear our story and totally love it. They’re sold. The whole place then starts to take note as me and Maja set ourselves up in totally different areas of the bar, and signal to each other that we’re ready. And bang, off we go. This is a really special show which at times sees us being almost 20 yards apart and working totally different parts of the bar at the same time. I concentrate quite a lot on the high ‘stage’ area to the left which has six or seven young guys hanging around a table next to a pool table. Oh, they love that. And even more when Maja comes up to join me and we really do turn this area into a stage from which to perform to the whole populace from up on high. Then we go back down and generally just meander and prowl all over the huge floor, then at times into the more intimate feeling bar surroundings. And of course we give our new friends plenty. Dalkey might have been a tad of a letdown, although it got salvaged in the end, but Sally Noggins is what’s made today’s trip out here truly worthwhile. It really is one of the big and memorable ones for us.
Day 46
Tuesday October 11
A momentous day today as we receive the email we’ve been waiting for. It contains an attachment of our first mixed and mastered, ready for release album track. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). This goes straight up on around 15 platforms through an online distribution service. It’s been a long, hard studio road to get here, but The Diaries are finally out into the real world.
Day 49
Sunday October 16
Maja:
We’re still feeling a little bit tired from the emotional roller coaster it’s been to host our couchsurfer friends and from losing our shower and replacing it with visits to the swimming pool. But today, it’s time to go gigging again. Or at least try to.
As the evening draws near the rain continues to fall. I mean we’re no strangers to rain here in Ireland, but this is something spectacular. Last night I woke up at 3 AM to the biggest skyfall I’ve experienced so far. It wasn’t like pitter patter, it was like, SPLASH! And as the evening draws near, it’s picking up again. We load the car up at around 7 pm, and have to run from the house to the parking lot just to avoid the equipment from being destroyed by rain. As I set out on the road, the rain is absolutely smashing down. It’s just picking up more and more. I have the wipers on max and wish they could go faster as I struggle to drive 30 m/h on a 100 km/h dark country road. This is by far the strongest rainfall in which I’ve ever driven.
As we arrive at the Pull Inn in Pollagh, the rain shows no sign of stopping. We park up next to the door, grab our gear, and run in through the door, not having any idea what’s going to await us inside.
The pub is packed. It’s a small pub but it is absolutely packed and some people are even standing without any barchairs close by just having a pint. And now everyone is looking at us. We’re smiling as the most common question gets asked ‘Are you going to play here tonight?’ ‘Maybe, we’re just asking for permission first’. And with that we make our way into the bar, and ask the bargirl. She runs to ask her manager for permission. As she’s doing this, the owner of the bar, Gary, walks in through the entry doorway. ‘Oh, The Diaries! How are ye doin? Ye playing tonight?’
Mark:
Now we are.This is the first time anything like this has happened. We’ve walked into a bar and we haven’t had to hustle. Our reputation has got here before us and there’s an excitement that The actual Diaries have just walked through their door. It’s almost like being famous. Maybe this is how it begins.
Maja:
We start setting up, which is now a very quick process with minimal equipment. Mark goes away to tune up the guitar, and I connect our PA to a plug socket I find in a corner somewhere and turn on our wireless equipment for my microphone and Mark’s guitar. When Mark comes back from tuning we do a short line check for the levels, ‘one, two’. Then we’re off. It’s literally this simple nowadays. If we use the toilet and ask for some water at the bar which we usually do, the whole thing takes maybe five minutes. It’s incredibly smooth and quick and everyone is so used to it taking more time so we’re always met with impressed surprised faces.
And off we go. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). And the crowd of maybe 20 people is shouting, cheering and bobbing along. It just continues like this. And when I hit the money notes, the big notes that continue for a really long time, I can hear how the crowd is just exploding into applause, going harder and harder with their shouts the more I carry on. It’s amazing. Just such a confidence boost for me.
In this manner we do four songs, and an encore. Then, as we get ready to do the hat, thinking we’re done, we get convinced to just keep going. Forget the encore. Just keep going. This is coming from Gary, the owner, and everyone is cheering him on. We have to do this.
It’s a bit much for me vocally to keep up only playing big songs like this, but we go for it. Another three songs. And oh my god. I wish we had been recording this. This is just the best gig so far. The cheers are deafening, the crowd are completely getting into it. It’s like we transformed this little countryside bar into the coolest rock concert on earth. That’s what it feels like.
As we finish, I’m also screaming yeah, at the top of my lungs, with my hands in a victory pose over my head, totally embracing the explosion of the pub.
As we’re packing up to leave, something that’s never happened to me before happens. A stranger comes up to me, shakes my hand and tells me ‘You are an amazing singer.’ Thank you so much. No-one ever praises the singer. I think it’s just assumed that they know they’re good because if the band gets praise, that means the singer gets praise as well. People don’t really feel the need to tell the singer specifically that they were amazing. So to finally be told this, is amazing to me. Wow.
Mark:
All that stuff Maja just said about singers rarely being singled out for praise is, in my experience with many fantastic singers I’ve worked with, absolutely true.
Now into the car we go. And the rain has stopped. If it hadn’t, we would have gone straight home, probably at super slow speed again. But as it is, after a show like that, let’s just keep going. And we feel like going safe. So Ferbane it is to target Hennessy’s, where Fionulla was such a supporter of ours. But when we get there, the place is totally empty, apart from one guy who looks at us like we’ve just dropped out of the sky before suggesting we try Gleesons down the road. Everyone’s in there, he says, and he’ll be popping down himself soon.
So we go and have a go at hustling Gleesons. The manager’s up for it so we set up, introduce ourselves around the bar, and hit our first song. It feels OK, but just kind of a little bit off. We finish to a smattering of applause and we hesitate a little as we think of what to play next. This isn’t our usual kind of exuberant flow. As we’re just deciding on Rock’n’Roll Tree, the manager, says, ‘Sorry lads, this just isn’t the place for it tonight.’ Oh. OK. It happens. He sounds apologetic as he continues, ‘Some old university friends are in here for a catch up after quite a few years and they really just want to talk rather than have loud music going on, and they came in here because it was quiet.’ You know what? Fair enough. But it’s still not a nice feeling to have to go and meekly take your gear down after being told to stop playing. We do it with good grace, and a few of the guys in here are kind enough to make a point to tell us they were really enjoying it and it’s a shame we’re having to leave. Again. OK. Great. Thankyou very much.
So we head back off to the car, passing Hennessy’s on the way. As we do, the guy who directed us to Gleesons comes out. We stop and chat to him and he introduces himself as Tommy. He’s massively surprised we’re not playing and says he was on his way to see us. We tell him what happened, and then he tells us what just happened to him. It seems he was a bit too shocked to say anything earlier on. He’s been following us online through our Youtube videos for some time, he says. He’s been into all our adventures across Europe, especially Germany, and just assumed we were a German based band. Then, out of nowhere, on a ridiculously quiet night in his local, we just walked in the door. This European internationally travelling band he’s become a fan of. He just had no idea how to react. It seemed too surreal and simply not possible. And now he’s equally shocked to hear that not only are we actually based in Ireland, but just a few miles down the road from him in the tiny town of Clara. He’s also quite disappointed that, once he’d got over his shock, that he had the opportunity to see us live, and now we’ve been stopped from playing. We tell him we’re thinking of heading to Banaher now, the next town further down the road. We can’t guarantee him a show, but would he like to come with us. Yes. Yes, he would love that. As we get in the car and set off, he says, ‘I feel famous now. I can’t believe I’m actually in the touring car with The Diaries.’ Oh wow. We really can’t let him down. This hustle has to work.
I am delighted to report that once we get to Banaher, we decide on the large, well lit and lively looking corner bar, named for some reason, The Corner House. We arrive just 20 minutes before closing and once he hears we’re only looking for a short show, the manager in there is well up for it, and all the regulars are equally keen. After what I’m sure has been a lovely but quietish evening, they now have the prospect of some live music to round it all off. We give them exactly what they had no idea they were looking for. Or probably they even weren’t, but here it is. Diary Shaped, Pollagh warmed up, Ferbane rejected, and fully up for it now. And this lively and happy crowd is with us every step of the way. Up front, mingling very nicely, and euphoric in something like disbelief, Tommy is almost acting as cheerleader. A few nights ago we had it really big at Sallynoggins. What’s happening here tonight is just all different kinds of levels of special. And as I said, The Pull Inn happened earlier on too and it’s so easy to forget that. A gig of that magnitude, almost wiped from our memories just an hour or so later by even more epic events. What an amazing turnaround, and what a rollercoaster night.
After saying a triumphant goodbye to The Corner House as we’re clapped and cheered out the door for the second time tonight – a night which also included a bar telling us to stop, just to remind you of that – we drive a wonderfully satiated Tommy back home, receiving his thanks for a memorable night, and seeing him off with warm hugs as he joyfully walks home. I really think this is one night that will stay with him. It certainly will with us.
Day 50
Monday October 17
After Dalkey and Sallynoggin, we return to Dublin tonight to tackle Maynooth. Or so we think. It looks like a largish town, but we discover it mainly has just four or five bars on the edge and that’s it. And none of them are suitable for us so we bypass our first target and head to Leixlip.
We don’t find much there either. We see a bar with just a few people in it having a very quiet time and think, why not? We’re met by a lovely manager and I’m really sorry, I didn’t record or remember her name. She says they have bands in the back bar and we’re welcome to set up and play there and see what happens. There’s no-one in the back bar, but we’re here, the staff are up for it, so we decide to just settle in and treat it like a rehearsal, although yes, just like any other show, we really go for it. The difference being that tonight, Maja mainly sings to just me as we wander all over this vast shiny polished floor we have all to ourselves. A few people meander through on their way to the back garden, or to the toilet and back, and they give off positive vibes, but no-one stays. Now and again a member of the barstaff comes and joins us in mildly perplexed but enjoyable curiosity. We play five songs to absolutely no fanfare and declare ourselves done. Maja also says her voice can take no more, so that’s it for tonight. This is our Dublin trip for today.
Then we walk through to the other bar. We think we’re heading straight for the door and out, but no. A group of guys call us over to their table and all get their wallets out and put money in our hands. Oh wow. We have the hat handy, so in it goes. Thankyou so much. Then another table, then another until we’re comfortably over our average take for a show. This really is unbelievable. The Diary adventure has seen many surprises and unexpected twists and turns. In its own strange way, what we experience here tonight is right up there.
Day 52
Wednesday October 19
We think we’re going to hustle Tullamore tonight but when we get there we realise we’ve made the rookie mistake of forgetting to check if there’s any live soccer on. Oh well. Back home and back into recording. Just as we get started, the phone rings and it’s Peadars in Moate, asking if we could play tonight. Well, yes, we could. We stop the session there and then and head on out.
This turns into just the most amazing gig. As soon as we walk in the door a cheer goes up from around the bar. There are 15 to 20 people in here, a lot of people in such a small space. We play five songs, then yes, a big encore call. Then another encore call, which we also play, then we say thankyou very much, and goodnight. But no. The calls keep going up and up. We don’t do third encores. But tonight is going to be different. As we’re insistently packing up, one of the regulars grabs the bar keys and locks the front door. ‘You’re going nowhere now,’ he says triumphantly. We’ve been kidnapped. The ransom: More of our own original songs. Is he joking? Is he serious? We take it as a good natured prank, but hey, if someone wants it that much, you really might as well just give it to them anyway. So yes. Of course we do. Encore? Not really. Let’s just carry on. We must do OK because they do actually let us out. Thanks guys.
Day 53
Thursday October 20
If you’ve been with us from the beginning, you’ll know that we’ve been pretty much living on Maja’s savings and other associated finances for some time and always knew it wouldn’t last forever. Way way back when, when Maja first floated the idea that we really go for this and just keep going as long as we could in a full time capacity, she said that if and when the time came, she would get another job in the same industry and we would just keep on going. Well now that time has come. With that, we start to discuss what this actually means. A big part of us wants to stay in Ireland and keep this as a base and travel and tour around like we have been doing. A lot of the kind of work Maja does can be remote working, often fully remote working and we have discussed this kind of thing a lot and at times kind assumed this was what would happen if and when the time came. But why not open up to possibilities as well? We’re only considering major cities where we could really make The Diaries work, but those cities kinda go hand in hand with tech jobs as well so the synergy really is there. The big ones pop out effortlessly. London, New York, Tokyo, Clara. Why not? If it’s remote, the opportunities then become where we make them. So London, New York, Tokyo or Clara it is with our preferences half leaning towards just staying here and branching out, and half towards London because, well, I have a history there. And Maja really fancies fully experiencing real London rather than the lockdown London she saw the first time around. We did get our week or so there back in December, but even then, it was clear things hadn’t yet got properly swinging again.
So yeah. It’s that time.
But first, we hustle.
Athlone.
First stop is Flannerys where we had a really cool little impromptu session one day. The lady behind the bar is reticent, saying there’s no point and that no-one will give anything here, but she’s also resignedly like, if you want to try, go for it.
So we do. It quickly becomes clear that some of the tables just want to talk, so after a fast start, we reread the room and just go for a gentle set. This produces one of the biggest hat takes we’ve ever had.
Now we head to Careys where we meet a rowdy English crowd just coming out. When they hear we’re going to try to play, a cheer raises up and they walk in with us. The bar lady looks up, sees what we’ve brought in, and is well up for it when we say what we want to do, especially seeing we’ve just brought a whole crowd of at least 10 people back into her bar. Then the mood changes as our new ‘friends’ ask what we’re going to do. As soon as we proudly say it’s all our own songs the mood changes. They are not interested. At. All. Dismayed disappointment turns to aggression. ‘You’ve got to play some Irish. You’ve got to play songs we know. Nope. We’re doing our thing and you’re going to love it. No. We’re out of here. Come on. We’re going. That’s the apparent leader of the group. A few of the ladies really want to stay and see what we have, especially when we realise we have seconds to rescue the situation and so start up with Naked. Of course we do. Two or three of the ladies love it, but I think the leader guy just doesn’t want to be seen to have backed down or changed his mind, especially when he made up that mind with zero information other than knowing what we weren’t going to do. Come on, we’re leaving. His aggression has transferred to them now and it becomes more insistent and impatient and yes, maybe even threatening, as they get more and more into us, calling the rest of the group to come and join them. The mister ain’t having it. This has become almost a challenge to his authority and he just can’t have that. He doesn’t quite grab them and pull them out, but he looks like he certainly wants to and it may well only have been a matter of time. The ladies look at us almost with apology, or maybe more, disappointment on their own part. Then, cowed like naughty children, they follow their master out into their night of fun.
As soon as they’ve gone, the atmosphere in the bar changes dramatically. It had started all cheers, giggles and smiles. Then descended into something quite dark, a new experience for us. Now it’s just quiet. Just five or six people dotted about the place quietly having a drink. We don’t really know what to do. We certainly can’t continue with the raucousness we started with in a vain attempt to win that drunken, narrow minded English crowd.
Now we meet Bridget, the manager, and Joe, the regular hanging out with her at the end of the bar, and they ask us to continue, but maybe give them something a little less lively. We start and immediately everyone turns their backs, a few people start talking at normal volume and one guy shakes his head and walks out. We get halfway through – what song it is I actually can’t remember – and I do something I’ve never done before. I stop playing mid song and say to Maja. Come on. It’s clear we’re not wanted here. Let’s go. Without acknowledging anyone, we just start to pack up.
I could not have begun to have predicted what happens next. Bridget and Joe begin the protest, saying we have to carry on. Please. The few guys in the bar join in and ask if we could. Oh. OK.
So, totally unplugged now, we stand in front of the bar and take it down a few other notches, choosing to play our most gentle versions of our most gentle songs. Breakthrough, Smile Is Going Round, Wide Blue Yonder. Each time we’re met with something like, is that really your own song? This is a new, quiet kind of wonder and what had started off very tense, then descended into just fraught, is now possibly our most chilled gig ever. Followed by another great result for the hat, which Bridget kicks off by dropping in a 20. Everyone else in the bar follows her lead. Then Bridget goes even further, asking us if we would have enough original songs for a 45 minute set. Yes, we would. So she asks if we could play a gig in her other place, The Canal Turn in Ballymahon, a couple of Sundays away on Oct 30. Yes we could. We leave this venue in a state of shock. What an absolute mash up of emotions and experiences that was.
On the way home, we decide we’re not done. We’ve always wanted to play Paddy Ryans of Horseleap, the one bar in a one bar, well, street. Is it even a village? This is the bar that doubles as a general store. Go in the left door, bar. Go in the right, store. Then the store and the bar are run by the same person who just operates from behind the counter, then bar top.
We go in and see the lovely Brida, who’s said no a few times, but has always been encouraging, saying it could work if we were to turn up on the right night. It seems tonight is the right night and she gives us the nod. It’s still a quiet enough bar though and we don’t intrude too much. We kinda get things rocking a little, but for the most part we play our songs somewhere down the middle of the road, erring on the side of gentle. It works and the whole place is totally with us the whole time.
By the time we’ve finished and are in the car home, we’re looking at our most successful hat take for a night ever. And it’s been physically the easiest gig day we’ve ever done. We can often feel wrecked after one show. As we joyfully drive home, we almost feel like we haven’t played at all. Really. Did tonight even happen?
Day 54
Friday October 21
We’re planning on going out again tonight but we really are feeling a bit tired. Also, Maja doesn’t feel great in her voice so we leave it. We don’t even hit the studio.
Day 55
Saturday October 22
Yesterday is explained as we discover Maja is sick and will be deep into next week, meaning we have knock the gigs on the head for a while. But with an actual longer show in the book now, we want to start looking at bringing back a few songs we’ve not played for a while; we’re not looking at doing a smash set for The Canal Turn, rather a well paced 45 minute show. So we intend to look at a song called Run, which got bumped from the album but which we think still deserves a live chance. Then there’s Fire and Beanie Love which we’ve not played for ages. After that, we want to get onto writing a few unfinished but promising songs. Make Me Shine kinda fits that. It’s only been played once – in Antwerp when we still didn’t yet feel fully comfortable with it. Also, it still hasn’t totally been fully learned. What we did in Antwerp was a little bit of a mess of a jam and an imitation of what it was supposed to be, so this still feels like a new, unfinished one.
Then there’s A Thousand Doors. This has been floating around for ages. It began life in Sweden, then we knocked it around in our first hotel in Hamburg, but it still didn’t quite come together. But all that considered, we have high hopes for it. Enough that it even has a place on the album. We have a whole load of other new songs coming up in various stages of development. Among them is Give Me The World, a metal type song. I’ve wanted a metal type song in our repertoire for ages and this could be it. , so this will be coming up too. With all this considered, for the first time in ages, we prepare for a week of rehearsing and writing.
Day 57
Monday October 24
Just because we feel like it, we go into The Trap and organise a gig for Tuesday November 1. So that’s two full set gigs coming up now. With Maja far from 100 per cent, we reinforce our thoughts that it’s time to step back from intense gigging and hustling and get back to developing ourselves again for a while.
The album is also going far into back burner territory as Maja has to get on with the next stage of whatever it is she’s going to do. This process starts today with the first feelers going out to say she’s back on the market, along with all the admin that goes into that. With that, the recruiter calls start coming in. Our studio is now a full on tech job hunting office.
Day 60
Thursday October 27
It’s starting to look like a remote thing might be the most viable with Maja needing a visa to go, well, anywhere really. New York, Tokyo, London. Clara would still work though. But yeah, once the possibility of those cities start to get into you, especially with their respective music scenes, most of all London, which I know very well, and more importantly, on which I’m known at least moderately well, you do start to get a bit of an itch.
Day 63
Sunday October 30
After quite an intense, non musical week, we have a gig tonight. That one Bridget asked us to do at The Canal Turn in Ballymahon. It’s a full 45 minute gig and we really wanted to have some of our new songs ready for it – Give Me The World, A Thousand Doors, Make Me Shine. And yes, Beanie Love which isn’t a new song, but which we really haven’t been playing much. But rehearsal just hasn’t happened this week. We have enough to do it though anyway. We’ll just have to go and see what happens, although it’s fair to say neither of us really feels fully ready for a full set right now. Just as we’re getting ready to leave, we get a call from a bar we’ve never played in before asking if we’re available tonight. Oh wow. That’s a development and a slight level up. The phone’s starting to ring this end now. Unfortunately – or fortunately because it’s pretty cool to be able to say it to be fair – I have to say that we’re already booked tonight, sorry.
We make the 30 minute drive to Ballymahon and expectantly enter The Canal Turn, expecting the metaphorical bunting to be laid out for us. It seems we misunderstood the date, or simply didn’t check it or nail it down enough. Bridget isn’t here, neither is anyone else really. Just four or five guys hunkered down at the bar. And the manager has no idea anyone was due to come. We say we must have made a mistake and maybe it will be sorted out during the week and he might see us next week. Let’s see how that goes. I would like to say we’re disappointed and have a dejected and extra wasted journey home but we’re really not. We didn’t feel at all ready for this one and the drive out has given us a little break and the scenery to look at of what, for us, is a lovely new town.
Day 65
Tues November 1
The Trap tonight and since Sunday we’ve managed to somewhat get a few of those new and newish songs together. So tonight will see the first outing of Give Me The World, the first confident outing of Make Me Shine, and the first outing for a while, and the first outing in here, of Beanie Love. We’re much more up for this one than we were for the show on Sunday and we’re hoping to have a good turn out, especially as we can barely leave the house without someone asking when we’re going to play again. And we can certainly barely enter The Trap without someone asking where our guitar is. So yes, we have high hopes for tonight, especially as it’s been deliberately arranged around a big live soccer game with us all set to go on as soon as it finishes. For the first time in ages, we’re all action before leaving the house as we prepare our full setup. We’re going all out for this one. Two speakers on poles. The backdrop. Mixing desk for better sound, and greater and more varied range of wireless equipment. Even a mic stand for me for when I feel like returning to the stage area to give my backing vocals a bit more thump.
We reach the doors of the bar and are all anticipation, and yes, a little bit nervous. Because, what if no-one’s here? This feels like when you have a birthday party booked and are waiting to see if anyone actually shows up. We stop, take a deep breath, and enter.
Well guess what. Nobody’s shown up. Damn. People say hi in their normally friendly way when we walk in, but apart from there’s barely a ripple. No-one seems to know we were coming. All we have is a few guys around the bar and a few others only mildly interested in the last minutes of the soccer. And there we are, standing with two trollies and wondering what to do next.
It doesn’t take long for people to realise we’re there to play and the interest levels suddenly go up a few notches. We feel like we’re intruding really, but insistence rises that we should do something now we’re here so we decide to forget about the full setup and just go for it for a little while with the one speaker. Not a full show. Three to five songs for the people who are here, then we’ll call it.
Just as we’re getting ready to start a whole bunch of other people walk in. The guys that work at our local Centra. Oh wow. They came. Antoinette, Lorca, Aoife, Karen, Caleb. Then a girl walks in with a few guys in tow and they quietly sit just off to the side. As we begin, that girl sings along with a few of our songs, clearly knowing some of they lyrics of even some of the verses. The guys with her look a little bemused, like they’re out of place, and we’ve never seen any of them before. We barely speak to any of them all night either and the girl seems a little shy, but it really seems to us like she knows who we are, I can only guess from videos she’s seen online, and has connected with us enough somewhere to want to be here tonight and has told some friends they should come too. She really looks like an actual fan. Yes, we ditch the plans to play three or four songs and bale. People have proper come out to see us. They get the full show. Then, when we’re finished, our friends from Centra want even more. We’ve already done our few encores so really shouldn’t. But, unplugged, we go and sit at their table and play a few of our more gentle songs that we don’t feel we have the opportunity to play live so much. So they get Breakthrough, Wide Blue Yonder and Insanity.
