The Diaries

Fire The Scriptwriter

A songwriter’s thoughts on Ed Sheeran’s Shape Of You court case win. April 2022

Day 39

Wednesday April 6, 2022

Mark:

Huge relief today as a result comes in we’ve been eagerly awaiting and dreading at the same time. Ed Sheeran wins his courtcase which he’s been fighting alongside his songwriting partners Steve Mac and Johnny McDaid.

If this means nothing to you, just let me say first, that this is huge, just huge for us. There have been a lot of concerning plagiarism cases recently, or at least it’s felt as though it’s proliferated recently and in a way, I actually kind of get it. Bear with me. I’ll come to that. But while there may be some genuine grievances in plagiarism cases, so many of the ones flying about around the current time are purely spurious and nothing more than shakedowns. People with no chance of doing anything for themselves trying to legally steal from those who’ve actually gone out and made it. It basically boils down to, I once used words, that songwriter is using words and made them into a big money making hit. Therefore he or she owes me money. I’m not even exaggerating that much. The Ed Sheeran case felt like a bit of a landmark moment. If he won, maybe this could set something of a precedent and signal the end of these kinds of pathetic, money grabbing, empty spurious claims. But if he lost. Oh man. If he lost. We really don’t want to think about it. It could have been the end of songwriting as we know it. As Ed said himself summing up the experience afterwards, 60’000 songs go up on one particular streaming service every day. I had to go back and check that. Yes. Every day. Which makes 22 million a year. And that’s just on one service. And all of these songs use the same 12 notes. If you’re reading all this Diary because you love your music but have no idea about how to go about making it or how it’s made, yes, there are just 12 notes available to us. That’s if you don’t count the notes in between that we generally don’t have but which are used in some eastern forms of music and I’m not counting them. Those 12 notes. A, Bb, B, C, C#, D, Eb, E, F, F#, G and G#. Yep. Taking away the eastern stuff which can sound a bit strange to us, going back centuries, or even millenia, every song, music score, piece of classical music and every single song on every single Beatles album, uses just these 12 notes and nothing more. Because there is nothing more. Again, as Ed said, coincidences are bound to happen. And yes, there is some imitation, homage and reference. But downright copying? Not as often as you might think. I mean, consider it. Really consider it. I write a song about my wonderful, magic football which I love very much. Try, if you can, to imagine the wonderfully unique melody that only I could possibly have come up with. ‘Maybe you’re gonna be the one that plays me/ Don’t call Saul/ You’re my wonderball.’ Now seriously, do you really think I’d be calling my friends to come round and hear my amazing new song and think they wouldn’t pick up on it? No. Outright copying, for the very most part, just does not happen. Songwriters are creators who want to create. Not copy something else and pretend it’s theirs. Alright, there are some bad actors out there, but for the most part, the people doing the bad acting are the ones accusing others of doing it and then trying to nick all their money.’/ You’re my wonderball.’ Now seriously, do you really think I’d be calling my friends to come round and hear my amazing new song and think they wouldn’t pick up on it? No. Outright copying, for the very most part, just does not happen. Songwriters are creators who want to create. Not copy something else and pretend it’s theirs. Alright, there are some bad actors out there, but for the most part, the people doing the bad acting are the ones accusing others of doing it and then trying to nick all their money.

Now we come to this. If Ed had lost, there’s no two ways about it. It would have been open season on songwriters and as close as dammit to finishing up our chances before we even got out of the gatefold. Anyone who ever had a hit ever, from this day on, would have had it stolen from them the second it got the tills ringing. Basically, the industry into which myself and Maja have set sail and are attempting to steam dead ahead into would have been all but destroyed. I don’t think it would have stopped us doing what we’re doing but I think we would have been living in state of denial that it was even a thing anymore to actually have a go at making something in there without having it stolen from you the second it actually became something. Believe me. The long long wait of a week or so from the conclusion of ‘evidence’ in this case to the actual judgement coming down was agonising. 

I did say that I did get it didn’t I? Well this is that bit. We’ve said before that it’s never been easy to make it in music at any level and in any discipline. But to try to get anywhere now as an original act, I don’t think it’s ever been harder. So for those trying but never getting anywhere and not seeing how they can get anywhere. What can they do to shorten their odds of at least getting something out of this game? Try to take it from those who have it. Yeah, record companies have been doing that to artists forever, but now artists are doing it to each other. And so often, it’s done in the hope that the person being pursued just decides it’s not worth the hassle of defending and just settles out of court so that they can get on with their current album writing/recording, touring, or whatever else it is they’d rather be doing. In a lot of these cases it’s really nothing less than a good old fashioned shakedown, and I can’t help but think a lot of the ‘artists’ are put up to it by the music industry’s own take on ambulance chasing lawyers. No win, no fee. Hello. I’m calling about some chords you recently used. Is that right. Did you recently use chords? Er, yes. Great. I’ve just heard that someone else did. For no money up front, and just a split of the robbery, er, rights, I’ll get them to admit they used the same chords as you and give us the royalties. Great. Thanks. One further question. When you did these chords, did you also use words? Er, yeah. Wonderful. Open and shut case. We file tomorrow, and by the day after that, every songwriter in the world will wish they never bothered writing any songs in the first place. Because, well, if anyone with a pen and a musical instrument can ‘prove’ they didn’t actually write them without copying and can now take all their money, what’s the point anymore?

And that, my friends, is what Ed Sheeran, Steve Mac and Johnny McDaid have just saved us all from.

Prologue

Maja’s Diary

Stockholm, Thursday 11 February, 2021

I feel devastated. Absolutely horrible. Life isn’t easy right now. My chest is tight and it burns. I feel cornered with nowhere to go. I want to concentrate on something fun, like playing bass. Preparing for an audition maybe, but my brain simply will not let me focus. 

Last Friday I made a couple of phone calls to friends to look for a place to stay in case my home situation became unbearable. Well, here we are. I have one possibility. My dear friend Alexander. Me and Alexander go deep, and have been hanging out regularly since we were about fifteen. So when I called him and told him about the situation last week he said he was going to check with his flatmate/landlord who I quite like. I wouldn’t mind staying with them for a while. They have an extra little sleeping alcove which I could make a bit of a refuge home out of. But a couple of days later Alexander got back to me to say they’d turned the little alcove into a home office for the landlord. However, he said I could stay in his room, probably making a space for myself in a corner, but added I would be able to do that for a maximum of two weeks. My heart dropped hearing this. He is the only one of my friends living independently enough to be able to casually have someone stay over. No matter who else I asked, I would only be a huge burden. And since I don’t really feel comfortable telling my parents of my situation yet, I can’t really stay there. Even if everything got worse and I told them what’s been happening, staying there for too long isn’t something I’d like to do if I can avoid it. Instinctively I know I’m welcome there if I need to, but it’s really not an option I’d prefer right now.

I’ve also been looking around for rentals just for myself but that’s almost impossible; Stockholm has a queuing system for apartments which you can pay to be on which you can enter when you turn 18. I’ve been on it for close to 10 years now. Even if I tried to take advantage of that, it would take months from now for anything to actually happen. There’s always the second hand market, but that’s dodgy and uncertain. And it’d probably be a no pets policy. I wouldn’t want to get involved in that right now.

So, what are my options? Well, I could stay where I am and endure the terms that have been newly imposed upon me. I could decide to not put up with it anymore and take Alexander up on his offer. But for just two weeks? And after that move where? To nowhere? A hotel? The street? With a puppy? It simply isn’t happening. No way I am able to pull that off. Not this suddenly, by myself.

I haven’t been able to eat properly for two weeks. The immense stress has made it impossible for me to eat any kind of proper meal. I’ve been trying to eat protein bars but have barely been able to stomach 500 calories a day. For reference, the recommended average is 2000 calories. The stress all this has caused has also made me sleep even worse than usual. Last night I managed to sleep a couple of hours, dropping off somewhere after 5 am, and then forcing myself up at 10. And that’s pretty decent by any recent standards. The insomnia combined with the relationship based stress combined with the inability to eat is starting to show its effects. I’ve been able to hide it from anyone I know so far, but with what happened yesterday I am now itching to talk about it with someone. 

I try to forget about it and do what I have to do next, as one of the demands I have upon me. I have to train. I don’t want to, I want to sleep. I feel absolutely drained, lethargic. But I change into my training clothes and get started. Today I feel too tired to do anything too strenuous, so I am going for yoga. I bring out my book and mat and try to focus on the exercises. They’re physically challenging, and it also takes quite a lot of a mental effort for me to both stay focused on it and on myself. I manage to get a little calmer, but I am seriously bothered. 

My freedom has been taken away from me. Completely. 

I hate it.

I. Absolutely. Loathe. It. 

Even something as relatively simple as being in a band is an unattainable dream right now.

At least I still have my phone on me. But I don’t feel like I can really just call any of my friends and tell them about what’s been happening to me. It’s just too much to explain. How do you tell them that something is even wrong to begin with? No-one even really knows that I am feeling unhappy. Except one person. Mark. And he is not connected to any of my other friends, so word will not get around.

So I message him. I am not sure of how to approach it. He was busy yesterday, so he doesn’t know that anything bad has happened yet. The text-chat starts normal. Fun even, and goes into the night. It’s a relief just to talk about normal things, even if I know it is all coming to an end. But I really want to tell someone what has happened to me. It is eating me up inside. So I start slowly with telling him about the situation I am in. I am startled when I see what comes back from him. 

‘Call me in two minutes.’

Mark’s Diary

London, Thursday February 11, 2021

Just another day helping Maja with her set, although we nudge things in a much more professional direction when we hit on the concepts of articulation and consistency which she thinks will take her playing to the next level. I really think it will, especially when it comes to the job of holding down the solid end in a professional cover band. That and repertoire of course, which we’re covering as quickly as possible.

We chat about a few other things, including her getting more into yoga which I’m delighted to hear. This is really cool and another thing I’m sure I can help with, a tip or two here and there.

We carry on for a while talking about fun stuff and I think we’re getting ready to wind up and maybe I’ll look at another song or two before going to bed. I’m really enjoying getting into this with her. It’s giving me so much great stuff to practice in terms of so many basics and repertoire, as I’m learning the songs at the same time as well. But then Maja drops a message on me, saying that her husband has threatened to end their relationship again. But she also says that she’s getting jaded with this now and that no matter what she does, she feels it isn’t good enough.

She tells me now that this happened yesterday but she didn’t feel ready to tell me until now. All of a sudden, those nice little thoughts I had a little while ago about jolly yoga chats are gone. There would have been nothing jolly about those chats. Nothing at all.

We get serious in text now as she also says she feels controlled from all angles and trapped. I say this sounds like she’s looking for an exit. Yes, yes she is. So what’s stopping her? ‘Not having the slightest idea how to do that. Simply put, I’m afraid.’

My reply is instant. ‘Call me in two minutes.’ She does. With that I step outside into the cold to go for a walk and take a phone call. It will be the most significant call I’ve ever had and it will change entire lives, including mine.

Mark’s Introduction

It’s just past 4am on Saturday June 5, 2021. We’re in Stockholm, where we’ve been since late Sunday night, so just short of a week. As has happened every night since the day we arrived, I’m already up and wide awake. I might go back to sleep later, I might not. At the time of writing I have no idea. Also at the time of writing, we are around three and a half months behind, by far the furthest I’ve ever been behind in Diaryworld. We? Yes, we’re an item. In every way. Emotionally, musically, professionally, aspirationally. Might as well get that out there. It’s kinda implied in the title, so it’s hardly spoiler. As for this early, middle of the night bout of writing, you can thank the summer Stockholm sun for that. Right now it never really gets fully dark, and by around 3:30am the sun is shining bright. So yeah, almost a week in and I’m still rising with it. Sometimes I go back to sleep, sometimes I don’t.

A little background incase you’re coming to this cold. I started my writings back in July 2014 when I took off from Madrid to the Costa Blanca in Spain to see if I could make a living playing bass for the summer.

Around six years to the day later, Maja began her own Diary, choosing her starting date as the day she picked up the bass and started learning from scratch. So her Diary really does start on day zero. If you want more context for what’s in here as you go forwards, going back and reading hers from day one would be a pretty good place to start because it contains the story of how we met through the SBL forum and innocently began working on bass related projects together, just like so many people have in there. At the same time, we were also working on website bits and pieces. That story begins somewhere December 2020 when she first got in touch, having read the entirety of my Diary in a matter of two or three months. She just wanted to say hi through the thread, but also had an idea of how she might be able to use her professional internet experience to help out. Make a website for me maybe. In return, I’d become her bass mentor, maybe. Yes, both of those things happened.

If you want the full on experience, my own piece encompasses five actual Diaries, almost 2000 pages and covers around six and a half years, which you’ll already know if you’ve sufficiently done the maths. I always had a feeling that, as big as my thing was getting, it was really just prologue. And so it’s proved to be. The real story starts now.

There are a few reasons we’re so far behind in starting to really tell it, and also why hardly anything has appeared for so long in either of our individual Diaries. The first is that a lot of what you’re about to read simply couldn’t be made public before now for reasons which we hope will become clear.

Another reason is that when we first started really communicating in a serious way beyond music, it all just seemed way too private to go in anyone’s diary, and none of it seemed relevant to the kinds of diaries we were both writing at the time. As a result, no notes were made and there were no attempts to mark or try to remember anything. Ditto for the early days after we first actually met. But then thoughts turned to music we could make together and we realised the Diaries were starting up all over again, but as a joint project this time. Cue frantic retroactive note making. What follows is the story of our music, and the story of our music will be the story of us.

Stockholm, Saturday June 5, 2021.

Maja’s introduction

I never imagined that my story would get told. At least not like this. And I certainly didn’t imagine that my story would be a story of music. But the story needs to get told. As I’ve been living it, there have been things that are too important to be left forgotten in time. These stories have a life of their own, and I feel obliged to tell them. To let them breathe, to share them and let them live through you as well.

I never had taken any platform to express my stories, but now, carefully writing my diaries, and my music, I finally have a way to express myself. The means of expressing myself like this is new to me, but even when I stumble, weighted by inexperience, I want to tell my stories.

If the story is alive enough, it will find its way to you. It will suck you in and make you feel. It will be alive through you.

And that is what I want to give you, while sharing my life, my dreams and my stories with you.

I hope you want to follow me along. Through the ups and downs, standing in the rain by the highway in the dark, or just to a nice sunny Saturday afternoon rehearsal. My dear friend and companion. 

Maja, Stockholm, Saturday June 5, 2021.

The Prelude, day minus eight

Thursday February 11, 2021

Part two

Mark:

It’s 11 at night and I’m about to go outside to have a chat with a friend about a relationship issue she’s having and that she wants to talk about. That’s what I innocently think as I close the front door and confront the cold. But this is a marriage. And it becomes clear pretty quickly that I have a scared girl on the other end of the line. I’m not going to get through this one by just listening like I did the other night. But what to say? I have no idea. So I just listen. As I do, it becomes clear that Maja really does want a way out. That could be simple enough, I think. If you really, really want to. Just leave. Pack, go and sort out the details later. This is where we hit a bump in the road. She says she has nowhere to go.

I decide to push a little on this one. Get another apartment? I hear a bitter laugh through the icy phone. She’s already looked into that, she says. Do I have any idea how hard it is to get an apartment in Stockholm? I’ll assume that’s a rhetorical question. OK. A friend’s place somewhere? That’s been looked into already. Nothing works. Surely you can stay with your mum? With this question I realise what it is I’m actually doing and it’s so far beyond ridiculous I try to push the thought out of my mind. But it got there all by itself and it’s deciding it isn’t going anywhere. I’m seeing the whole situation and realising I actually have an exit to offer. But I’m not going to offer it until I know all options have been explored. She says that maybe, just maybe, the mum idea could work for a while, but she’s very clear that it wouldn’t be sustainable for more than any longer period of time. I start to see where we’re at. It would not be a cosy arrangement. Not at all. From what I understand, it will be a hard sell of a one way ticket back to the place she’s trying to escape from.

I truly can’t believe where my mind is going, but the facts are these. We have a room about to come available in our place, from February 19. One week from today actually. Someone was interested in it and we all thought that was a done deal. But the guy unexpectedly pulled out a few days ago. So it’s still free. With that, I realise I can offer Maja at least the possibility of an escape so that she might not feel so trapped. After she’s finished talking to me about what a no-no living with her mum would be, I realise she’s out of options and I have to offer mine. But will I really? Can I really? Can I say those words? It’s one of the most ridiculous ideas I’ve ever thought of and is sure to be met with hollow laughter and a reply along the lines of, ‘I’m not just going to up and move to London.’ But really, what I’m really thinking is that mentioning this as even the vaguest of possibilities will give Maja a new feeling of control because she’ll know she can now change the situation if she wants to. I think the offer of somewhere else, no matter how implausible, could remove the feeling of being trapped. You see, I’m even procrastinating here writing it.

I must contemplate this longer than I realise because I get a prompt. ‘Are you still there?’ I am. I’m just thinking. With that, I realise I now have to say something. It’s my turn to do the talking thing. But the words I’m about to do the talking with don’t feel real. They’re there, but until I say them they won’t actually exist. Is that true? It’s like nothing else could possibly come out of my mouth right now, but at the same time I can’t bring myself to say it. The silence hovers for an uncomfortable few more moments. Moments which will be the last of the before before the after. Moments in both of our lives which will never be the same again. Like someone about to dive into an icy lake, I take a mental run and jump and just do it. The words happen, almost independent of any thought, tumbling impatiently out of my mouth in a mini torrent of absurdity.

‘You could come here.’

It’s her turn to stop, to pause, to feel the same disbelief I’m feeling as they’re out in the open. Newly born yet already fully formed. My saying them hasn’t changed anything. They were always going to happen once they’d assembled themselves, foetal like, at the front of my mind. It doesn’t even really feel like I’m the one who’s said them. In fact, I’m sure I didn’t. They just saw the gap and jumped out. All on their own. Now it’s for Maja to see if they can be harnessed, controlled, or led in any way. She does her best. 

Maja: 

I kinda expected it. I’m still shocked but I kiiiiiinda figured it could come to this. I was looking at Mark’s Facebook a couple of days ago and I saw an ad for a room that he was trying to find a new tenant for. I also saw it had been posted months before, so this couldn’t be the room he was talking about. But that didn’t matter. This got me starting to dream about being able to go there because I was thinking I just didn’t want to be in my situation any longer. I even looked at the car route to the UK. But I really didn’t quite expect anything to happen. How could it? Ever? Just not possible. A total impossibility. Inconceivable. Now an offer has actually been made, it feels unbelievable. Hearing the tone of Mark’s voice while he was talking me through my options I realised how inappropriate he must think it would be for him to offer that room to me. So when I think of how to anwer, I’m very careful in responding in a way that he won’t know I’ve looked at and considered this before. I make sure not to say yes right away but to give the impression I’m only thinking about it, that maybe going to sleep on it. My idea is that I could give a more concrete answer tomorrow.

‘What do you mean?’ Maja asks, sounding stunned. ‘All the rooms in your house are taken.’

I’m a bit perplexed at this reaction. Surely she knows I wouldn’t say something like this if it wasn’t possible. I take a breath to keep my speech on an even keel and begin to explain. ‘One of the guys is moving out next week. It becomes available on Friday. The 19th. I tell Maja here and now that I see this offer as really just a conceptual thing. I’m not at all expecting her to take it up and move here. That would be an absurd idea. What it does do, I think, is give her the possibility of having the freedom to change things if she wants. To not feel as trapped as she has been feeling. Now she takes me by surprise, saying she’s already considered a move to London. She’s even looked at the route she might take from Sweden, through Europe, to France by car to catch a ferry to the UK. Damn. She even knows how long the drive will take. I’m stunned by this little turn. ‘So you’ve already been thinking about this?’ Well, that was a silly question. But what else do you say to something like that?

I’m close to home and we agree there is a lot to think about and maybe talk about seriously tomorrow. We finish the call and I get home just around 12:30am. We’ve arrived at Friday 12th, exactly one week to the 19th. As I take off my jacket, a new disbelief takes hold of me. I don’t expect anything to come of what we’ve been talking about, really I don’t. But a huge question hits me, all the words coming all at once. What the hell have I just done?

Day minus seven

Friday February 12

Mark:

Damn. I can’t believe it. Ten thirty in the morning and Maja’s been on this already. A little hello chat and she says, ‘I think my driver’s licence should work.’ What now? That’s all she says about it as an introduction. Not, ‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ not, ‘Were you serious what you said last night?’ No. ‘I think my drivers licence might work.’ ‘That tells me someone’s been thinking,’ I say. ‘Of course, ‘she shoots back.’ Alright. I’ll leave it alone. Someone’s in the serious tree. I climb up and join her. It’s begun. This is her plan. She’s going to move here in her car, crossing a whole bunch of countries in a 22 hour drive. And she isn’t planning a quick visit either. This is a full on move she’s contemplating as demonstrated by her next message. The government website for applying for a Global Talent Visa. You see, here’s the thing that’s going to underpin so much of what is to follow. And for the first time, on just day two of this new diary, we’re going to have to go full on political. There’s just no avoiding it anymore. In all previous writings I’ve tried, at every turn, to keep things totally out of that sphere. When I’ve absolutely absolutely had to, I’ve dipped the tippiest tip of a little toenail in the freezing cold and stormy waters and then got the hell out of there. But I’m afraid through quite a bit of this we’re gonna have to go full commando, take a deep breath and dive in and swim. I’ll keep us up for air as much as possible. 

The reason? Brexit. Sorry, but it’s out. I’ve said it. If Maja has any aspirations at all to live and work in the UK, and it seems she is suddenly at least considering to have, proper accesses and documentations are going to have to be followed because UK and European citizens no longer enjoy freedom of work and movement between each others’ territories. So if Maja wants to come here and attempt any kind of working relationship with the UK, she’ll have to jump through all the hoops previously associated with going to live in the USA or Australia. The UK is out of the European loop now.

So yes, she’s been looking at how to get a visa and, as far as she can see, the Global Talent thing seems the most likely. I revisit my doubt and say it now. ‘Wow, so your mind’s made up?’ I get the reply in three messages.

‘Pretty much.’ 

‘I dunno.’ 

‘But yeah.’

We have a little delve into it and it very quickly becomes clear this will not be a quick fix. Everything is just so complicated and involved and there are a lot of steps to go through which can take weeks at a time. It looks like she won’t be coming anytime soon afterall. But that’s not how Maja rolls. Dammit, she says. Can’t I just come as a tourist and do this later? You know what? I think that might just work. And as she says right now, she can be here legally as a tourist for six months. During that time we should be able to sort something out if she decides to really look at that. Maja is in no doubt. ‘When I get a job, they’ll fix that for me.’ Let’s get something up front and out there now. Maja will not be coming here to work in the back of a coffee shop, or pour pints next to me in the bar job I most assuredly would be able to get her, at my place or someone else’s. No. Maja’s fish are somewhat bigger. Somewhat huger. Among other things she’s a cloud engineer. Which basically means she designs, maintains and manipulates the infrastructure that makes the internet work. That computer game you’re playing with your buddies who live all over the world? Chances are she developed and then maintained the software that allowed the game to even exist in that format. She’s done similar jobs for governments and corporations across nations in aspects of projects even the managers knew nothing about. To say there might be a bit of a demand on her services here would be to call the goldrush a goldgentlestroll. So yeah. It’s fair to imagine that a prospective employer would gladly throw whole sections of their admin department at securing her services and making sure they stayed secured.

With this, we start looking at it in full earnest, researching how to come here and what the legals are. Oh. We’ve covered Brexit as one political thing, but I’m afraid we have to look at another one now. Coronavirus. You see, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this or not, but we’re in the middle of a pandemic. London is in lockdown and travel restrictions of varying levels are in place all over the world, including a lot of outright travel bans. Once more we delve into the official websites and come up with the little gem that there’s no travel ban for Swedish citizens into the UK, but there is a 10 day quarantine required. And they’re really not messing about with this; failure to comply could actually result in jailtime. ‘Well, if you help me out with groceries I’ll be fine,’ she says. Yep. Done. And a Covid test has to be taken and proved negative before travel. OK. That will be something to have a look at in a little more detail later. So it seems that’s the two biggies out of the way. She’s looking at flights now, as a possible alternative to driving over. It’s way cheaper, she says. OK. It seems she’s just taken a breath to think about all this because she comes back with, ‘I’m just mildly surprised by the reality. My head just spins with all the ifs right now.’ Yep. This is starting to feel pretty real and it’s only midday. It’s less than 12 hours ago that I spoke those four little words. You Could Come Here.

So yes, we’re really doing this. Basic practicalities get discussed now, including the fact that she could soon have a place to call her own in London. And a place that is now going at 20 per cent its pre pandemic price with no deposit is required. However, I’m very keen to stress that it’s part a five person house share, and is a tiny, tiny room. That doesn’t cool the waters one bit. ‘It’s huge to think that I could have a place to call my own,’ she says. ‘Just enormous for me.’ 

Maja then asks about Jenn. Does she know about this as a possibility? Yes, we’ve had that chat and she’s cool with it. And I’ve made sure Elvin, the guy currently in the room, is definitely leaving on the 19th. But I tell her there’s no need to actually aim for that date as I can totally hold the room. I have a great relationship with the landlord and he pretty much lets me organise things around here. With that, she tells me that once he’s left she’ll pay for it even if she’s not arrived yet. She’ll even pay before he leaves, just to be absolutely sure it’s held. She just wants to make sure it doesn’t disappear from under her. ‘Of course it will be held,’ I say. ‘Don’t have this on your worry list.’ And I add that the rent can be paid through me and I can deal with things this end, which means she knows she’s dealing with the de facto decision maker. ‘You’re like a mini landlord,’ she says. Not quite, but I can see how it might look. 

Yes. This is really happening now. I get straight on the phone to the landlord to tell him of the new incoming tenant. He says he’ll make the contract up right away and date it from the 19th. I get back to Maja with this news and I think I make her head spin. ‘It’s really getting sorted now,’ she says. ‘That’s crazy. I haven’t even told anyone about this and suddenly I have a place in London. Amazing.’

Now she goes full on practicalities. What to bring, what not to bring, how and when to tell people. Oh, everything’s spinning everywhere now. And more covid stuff keeps coming; as well as a negative test to be able to get on a plane, she’s now discovered that two tests have to be taken during quarantine. We have no idea how this gets organised or anything, but this is happening now so we put that on the later pile, although it really can’t be too much later. The 19th looks like a date around which this thing will revolve although I expect things to really happen quite a bit after that. But hey, she has a room in London sorted out already and that’s just about the biggest thing in any move anywhere.

I was supposed to have to leave soon for a rehearsal with Sarah, but she just messaged me to see if we can move it to Sunday. No problem. So Maja now asks if I can talk. I can. Five minutes later she’s on the phone. But there’s no excitement in her voice. As much as it might seem, this is no time for excitement. For a start, there are still so many things to organise. But second, it’s too cold to go out where she is so she’s calling me from the apartment while her husband is still there. It’s a whispered conversation while she stays in the bedroom, carefully monitoring the doorknob so that she won’t be caught talking about, well, all the stuff we’re talking about. We’re on the phone for about two hours but as soon as we hang up, my messenger pings again. ‘I’m alone?’ she writes. ‘And it’s dark in the apartment. I knew it was gonna burn soon.’ This is just as we’re coming to 7pm. 

Maja: 

I put the phone down and brace myself to open the bedroom door, mentally preparing myself to handle whatever comes next. What’s going to get thrown at me now? I have no choice but to leave. My puppy Tommy clearly needs to go pee. Trembling, I hold my hand on the handle and slowly push the door. As it opens, I see the apartment is dark. It’s just totally dark. There’s no-one there. I go through to the living room just looking around. Then I open the bathroom and kitchen doors. ‘Hello. Is anyone there?,’ I shout. I even check in the closet. Crazy, I know, but this is a crazy situation. He’s gone. Where the hell did he go? He was supposed to be working. Working at his desk in the living room as he does everyday. It’s minus 10 degrees outside. You don’t go for a walk in that kind of temperature. You just don’t. Not if you don’t have to. And he doesn’t have anywhere to go. What am I supposed to do now? First, I do what needs to be done, which is taking Tommy for a little walk so he can pee. I’m absolutely sure something bad has happened. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what’s going to happen when he gets back and I have no idea how to prepare myself for that. All I can think of is to call Mark back and tell him about this. I do that while frantically walking in circles around the little stone garden close to my home. ‘Mark. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. What am I supposed to do now?’ We talk for a little bit, I calm down and then it comes to me. I’m not really sure how to do it but I realise I need to leave. Now. I go back inside, keeping Mark on the line while I try to find something I can eat this instant. I haven’t had anything to eat today at all. I find some cold cooked rice in the fridge and force myself to eat a couple of spoonfuls. It tastes horrible but that’s irrelevant. It’s food and food equals energy, which is all I need right now. What I’m going to do when he gets back doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not going to be here when he gets back. I say to Mark, ‘I’m leaving for my mum’s now. I can stay there at least until I’m ready to leave for the UK.’ I keep him on the phone while I take a suitcase and just start shoving clothes into it, grabbing whatever I see nearest to me each time I look up. All through this, Tommy is by my side. The suitcase is almost full and I’m just a minute or so away from walking out when I hear the door open. Into the phone, I kind of shout-whisper, ‘I gotta go,’ and hang up. 

In the same second, he comes back home. I cram the suitcase into the closet and force the door shut on it. Then I walk out into the living room and see him walking towards the sofa. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say a word. Just reaches the sofa where he sits down and turns the TV on. I try to speak to him. Nothing. I ask where he’s been. I ask him a lot of things. I get no answer to any of it. He’s just silent, ignoring me, looking at the TV. Nothing’s on. It’s just the homescreen of Netflix with the movies you can choose. He looks at that, ignoring me, just blindly looking for something to put on. I’m kinda used to being treated like this, completely ignored. So I know that there’s only one way for me to really break the cycle. I need to say it. I need to. I don’t wanna. I’m fearing the words but they need to be said. So I sit down close to him, just in front of him. I pull up a chair so I can sit just in front of him, my face a couple of centimetres away from his. I look into his eyes and say it. I want a divorce. 

We have a long talk about this, and feelings are heated as the full gravity of the situation really starts to hit us. Seeing his remorse, I back down on my demand for a divorce and we settle on the reality that I will be going to London at least for a little while. I can’t handle living like this anymore, and if we’re ever going to get to a place where we can be decent with each other again we need to part ways right now. We talk for hours. When our words finally die out I excuse myself by telling him I have to go out and repark the car. With our severe winter weather, that’s just something we regularly need to do around here so the council can clear the road of snow in the morning. I take the opportunity of being alone again to call Mark to tell him what’s just happened.

Around three hours after we spoke she messages to say that she’s told him she’s leaving. For now at least. ‘Long conversation,’ she says. Now she wants to talk to me. I go out and wander the silent residential streets of Kentish Town, avoiding the busy roads as much as I can. It’s strange, this way of walking and talking late at night on deserted roads. This is lockdown London and no bars are open so no-one is on the streets. We basically cover what we’ve been writing about today in our chats, while she also tells me about what it’s like at home right now. She says she’s being treated kindly enough so it’s manageable, and she feels good now that the news is out. We chat for about an hour and then we’re both close to home so call it for the day. But there’s one more thing. Just after I’ve settled back in at home I get a ping. It’s a screengrab accompanied by the message, ‘This is the flight I’m thinking of.’ Then, in reference to all we’ve been talking about, ‘I can’t believe this is what it had to take to make it feel good again. Goodnight friend. I’m exhausted now.’ That makes two of us.

Now I have a closer look at the details of the possible flight she’s sent me. Damn. It’s this coming Friday.

Day minus six

Saturday February 13

Mark:

After the initial rush, it’s onto details today, mostly getting the covid nitty gritty stuff sorted out. Which means knowing exactly how to go about everything, especially as we’re looking at, bizarrely, this Friday probably being the day this will all happen.

I just want to make sure she knows the room might not be ready if she arrives on that day as Elvin has really started prevaricating; his plans are changing almost by the minute. I’m even starting to get worried that he might actually not leave on the 19th so I make it clear to him that he’s given us his intentions and that someone has now already made plans to be here on that day. He says he understands and he’ll make sure to leave the house on that day even if he has to stay somewhere else before leaving the country like he’s intending. OK. But I still tell Maja that she might want to postpone until at least Saturday to give me a chance to clear the room out and have it ready for her. She’s not phased by that in the slightest. No need to have the room ready, she insists. She’ll help clear it out and clean it if needed. And if he’s still there when she arrives, she’s cool to chill until he’s disappeared. OK. As long as she knows and is fine with it. Her reasoning is that if she comes almost any other day after Friday next week, she’ll be looking at two flights, meaning possible covid planning for any transit country as well. Basically, it could all start to get messy and complicated, not to mention more expensive. OK, so Friday it still most likely is then.

Now to book the covid travel test, which will happen on Tuesday with the plan to have a negative result returned from a test time no more than 72 hours before flying. Which means Wednesday and Thursday could well be spent worrying about a possible positive result. Nothing to be done about that. Take the test and wait and see is all you can do.

Ten PM and she tells me the flight is booked, and the corona test is also in for Tuesday. This really is motoring now. Next up is the passenger locator form and ordering the test kits which she now knows are to be used and posted for analysis on the second and eighth days after arrival. Unless subsequently told otherwise, you are then free to go out and about on day 11.

Now we start to look forwards and Maja asks if she can send me a shopping list for things she would like me to get from here. So I’m now acting as a sort of a one man advance party, making sure everything is ready on the ground for a new arrival. We’re talking toiletries and bedding stuff. Nothing major, but still very preferable to have available from minute dot.

Now, beyond actual practicalities, we get to talk about fun stuff. First item on the agenda: What bass will she buy when she gets here? She’ll be traveling without any of the three that she currently owns, which will all be left in Sweden, along with amps and anything else bulky. So I get to help her shop online, which means I am now vicariously buying a bass. Cool. I guess that’s a level or two above window shopping. It’s fair to say we spend a lot of time looking at this and a lot of basses get chosen and then rejected. The main issue is doubt over really committing to making a purchase this big for something you can’t even try out. I know you can return within a reasonable period, but it’s bad enough to have to think about this with buying clothes online, let alone a new bass. But really, this is a very nice problem to have after some of the other stuff contained in the minutes so far.

The bottom line for today is that tickets have been booked and practicalities, as far as they can be, have been sorted. Now she has the wonderful prospect of Friday to look forward to when she can leave the stresses of Sweden behind and head off to a new adventure in London, which of course starts with the mandatory 10 day period of quarantine or, more accurately in her case, a kind of legally enforced rest. I get the feeling it is being very highly anticipated as she says, during one exchange of a three hour skype chat that goes way past midnight, ‘I feel I could sleep for a week.’ But maybe just a thought or two of being active as well as she says, ‘I’m not usually a runner, but when I get there I wanna run just a little bit. Just from the joy of freedom.’

Maja: 

Today is about preparation. And about getting along. We have a chat and he acts supportively towards the idea of me going to London. He knows that I’ve been serious about music lately and it makes sense that I want to do something that breaks the depressiveness we’ve had at home lately. He really isn’t happy about it, but accepts it, which is a relief for me. So for today, we decide to go on a date. I prepare some details regarding travel with Mark, and pack up a bag with Tommy’s necessities. We decided to go on an outing to the forest with Tommy. It is sunny and it is beautiful outside. Minus 10 degrees C, so we need to have warm clothing on. All three of us. We have two layers of trousers, winter jackets and of course Tommy is dressed in his winter jacket as well. Tommy is a Chinese Crested Hairy Hairless Puppy, around five months old. This breed is known for being very cold sensitive, which is why it is important that we dress him appropriately. And since it is so cold, I usually let him sit in my jacket as well. He is tiny, so it is OK. He fits nice and snugly under my big winter jacket. 

We drive to McDonalds to have a little lunch in the drive through before our outing. We order food, and park in a place with a beautiful view over a snowclad highway, where we eat our hamburgers and talk. We talk about my trip to London. About what I am going to do there. He is of the belief that if you’re going to do something a bit crazy, you might as well get it over with while you’re still young. I couldn’t agree more, but that’s not really what this is about. I keep that thought to myself. But I am hugely appreciative that he is supportive of my decision to do this. Even though I know he doesn’t want me to go. He is acting tough handling the reality he doesn’t want to accept. I’m having a hard time being cheerful. I feel like a traitor. But I do my best, as always. We finish up, and I am embarrassed by the amount I have to throw away. I can’t possibly stomach a whole burger. I somewhat manage a third. I drive us to the national park 30 minutes from where we live. We’ve been there once before, it is a beautiful place with cows, pigs and ducks and other farm animals. But we seem to have put a different part of the enormous park into our GPS, so we end up at a place we’ve never been before instead. The forest we drive through is absolutely stunning, with about 10 centimetres of snow on the tree branches. The branches of the oak trees are heavily weighed down by the snow, and it glistens in the sun. When the wind blows we can see huge amounts of snow fall down from some branches, which then shoot back up from the released tension. The ground is covered by about 50 cm to a meter of untouched snow, painting the landscapes in white. It is probably the most stunningly beautiful winter landscape I’ve seen in my entire life. 

We park in a little parking lot in the forest, get out of the car and take a walk on a hiking trail in the forest. The trail goes over a little stream that amazingly is not frozen yet. The little stream pourls as we walk on a bridge a couple of meters over it. It feels a little scary to look down, I think as I lean closer to the edge to take some photographs. The sun is shining, and everywhere I look it sparkles and glistens. The wind is coldly kissing my cheeks, that get red and a little bit sore. We walk onto a little frozen lake, talking about the forest and how amazing it is that we can actually walk on top of a frozen lake without the slightest fear of the ice breaking. The ice is too thick to break, it’s been minus degrees for weeks by now. After a while I take Tommy up in my jacket and carry him so he can warm up. 

It is the ideal winter date, of a seemingly happy young family with a dog and a bright future. 

Our last date.

Day minus five

Sunday February 14

Maja:

I am having a hard time realising that I am about to move to London. It is post Brexit, and during complete covid lockdown, so I don’t really have anything of the usual London to look forward to, but that is really not what this move is about. This move is about me getting some space for myself to actually relax and find myself. Anyone going through a rough part of a relationship knows the importance of just getting away for a bit if you’re not getting along. When a relationship becomes stressful, even during the times no arguments happen it can be stressful just being close to each other. 

I’ve really started to feel the need to be somewhere else for a while, and I am absolutely delighted with having found a place to go to. I’m happy with the friendship that has developed between me and Mark, and it feels like a good place for me to go to. I could just be there for a while, chill and let myself think about where to go next in life. 

Since I’ve decided to go ahead and move, there are preparations to make. I’ve spoken with my husband about it, and we’ve gotten to an OK place about it, so the next stage is to tell my family about it. We go there and I do that. They’re shocked and devastated with sadness. Over the next few days they will try more and more to persuade me not to go ahead with my plans, to just keep things as they are in Sweden. At times I will feel as though I’m demanded to justify my decisions and motivations, as though this was a negotiation with me having to stake my position then defend it. It is not. I am going, for my own sake. For no one else but me. But the discussions wear me down and I feel like I’m having to fight for the right to do things my way, in this moment, to live my own life on my own terms. In this, as the longest week of my life drags on, I start to feel more and more alone. Everyone around me is making me feel as though I have to struggle for every step I take. At times I will even feel as though I might not be able to head off on this short break that I need so much, if for no other reason than to make sense of where I am and to think of what could possibly be next. I certainly have no-one in Sweden I can speak to about all that. It really is a desperately sad and lonely time for me. How far are people ready to go to keep me here? Could they stop me from going? Would they? At times I’m really not so sure. Hints are certainly dropped.  When they are, they land like lead in my stomach. Oh this long long week feels like it will never end.

Mark:

In a chat today, as we’re going through the practicalities, which has become something of a watchword,  Maja suddenly remembers my experiences and says, ‘Oh yeah, I forgot. You also did the sudden London move thing. You’re like the ultimate Londoner for me.’ Not entirely sure about that, but yes, I see where she’s coming from. Now she mentions it, yes, I did do it in similar fashion in my dash from Madrid, but also in a much less secure way and with a pretty damn nasty landing too once the whole thing had crashed and burned on me. That whole homeless period with nothing but a corner of a friend’s room to call (extremely loosely) my own, no job, dwindling savings. If you can even call what I had savings. So yeah. I guess I do know what I’m talking about. But then, as she rightly points out, as much as she’s coming into a little more of a secure situation than I, ahem, enjoyed, I didn’t have Covid and lockdown London to contend with, so different challenges for different times. But security? She has the whole Brexit thing going on too as it’s not like she can come over here and start looking for a job if needed, but that’s a later issue. She has far greater priorities to think about than that like now, as she says, ‘I’m not usually a runner. But when I get there, I wanna run a little bit. Just from the joy of freedom.’ Yep. I think that’s about where it is right now.

Oh, but London walks. That’s really something to think about once she’s able to get out and about again and we talk about my own experience of that in the early days of Lockdown when I took my daily exercise allowance to go and see an iconically empty central London. If not quite as extreme, it’s still a little bit like that so that’s definitely something we can get out and see when the time comes.

So yes, we also have quite a bit to talk about, or rather she does, and I listen and pass a comment now and then. I was supposed to have rehearsal with Sarah today but that’s been put off again so when she asks I say that yes, I am free. The conclusion of today, at least on her domestic front, is that things have stopped burning so much and a kind of politeness has descended. Things certainly feel a little calmer. She’s also started to think in terms of a shorter visit. Maybe a timeframe of something like two months.

Day minus four

Monday February 15

Maja:

I am spending the days talking to my family and packing.

Mark:

I’m damn sure I had corona back in February, but things have been feeling a little strange lately. Nothing major, but you never know. And corona tests have apparently been a little easier to get lately so I booked myself in last night for one today. It’s a bit of a walk away, 30 minutes or so to Islington. Not ideal if you really are full on symptomatic. How is someone supposed to be able to do that? I arrive at the place and I’m expecting at least some kind of gym hall. Maybe something that looks like a medical centre. Nope. What I find looks more like a field hospital. It’s a large tent, but it isn’t even enclosed. Those poor people working in there, fully exposed to any kind of cold and wind that might happen. Which is a lot right now, as we’re in February. On either side of the tent are five little rooms separated by canvas. In each of those ‘rooms’ are what look like rough, hastily constructed chairs and desks made of bare wood. I’m also expecting some kind of professional on hand to perform the test on me, but no to that too. Instead, when I’m indicated to enter, I’m given a little bag containing a test kit. I do what with this now? Go to the empty room over there, the one that someone’s just finishing sanitising, sit down and follow the instructions on the wall.  So yep. I’ve come to a testing centre to take a self test I have no idea how to do. Well, I guess millions of people have already done these so how hard can it be? Just follow the instructions on the wall step by step. OK. Sample tube goes here, stick goes there, bag goes there, and I have my bits and pieces arrayed out in front of me. It looks mildly complicated and quite medical and technical but again like I said, millions have done this before me and I must be more or as intelligent as at least a few of them so surely I can do this too. Step one, take stick and stick down the back of throat. Simple. Apparently after this you take same stick and stick up nose. Ah. I’m starting to get it now. Then stick is sticked, sorry, stuck, in bag. Then all done. OK, so not quite as intimidating as it seemed when I was first given a bag full of medical bits and told to get on with it and come back when I was done. But stick down throat. This doesn’t go so well as the stick sticks my sick trigger. Oh dear. I try desperately to hold it back and, well, you can imagine the rest. Let’s just say I manage not to make a mess of the table. I now have to call out for someone to come and give me another bag of corona sticks so I can go again. I’m seriously apprehensive this time and really have to hold on so as not to have to repeat it yet again. Ten seconds you’ve got to hold that thing back there, right in the gag reflex zone. I reckon whoever designed this was having a bit of a laugh, imagining all the self induced projectile vomiting going on in test centres all over the country. But I just about manage it this time. All that’s left now is to ram this thing up my nose to complete the sticky process. Done, all safely deposited in aforementioned tube, and now in self sealing bag. Drop that off at whatever you call the outgoing reception, and test experience concluded until the next bit which is to see whether I’m positive or not. I guess if I am I’ll already be well aware by the time the results come but this is how the system works. Spoiler alert: it comes back negative. 

Buying a bass in the time of Corona. Been looking into it, and yes they can be returned within a week if you’re not happy. Still not ideal given the number of attractive basses you might try in a shop before buying but at least it’s not a commitment to something you’ve only seen a pretty picture of.

I have a few things I have to do here to make sure things are prepared for when Maja arrives. Yes, we’re working on the assumption that her covid test will be negative. One of my little tasks is to make sure she has all the bed sheets and towels she needs. Jenn, being a girl herself, knows how important it is to get these things right and is happy to come out with me to make sure I pick up the right things. So that’s one little fun excursion this end. We head out into Ktown and go Maja shopping. I return home with quite a decent haul and lay it out on our floor. All the necessary bedding stuff, towel, other toiletry bits and pieces, extension lead, coathangers, and a Europe to UK plug adaptor. I’ll be adding at least another one of those. I take a picture and send it to Maja so she can see that things really are coming along here and that things will be set up as well as they can be so that she can have as seamless a landing and arrival as possible.

As well as my preparations here, our phone calls are starting to become more and more regular as she needs a little support and steam blowing in between what I’m hearing are some really intense conversations over there in Sweden. Damn. She’s meeting a lot of resistance to this. People really don’t want her to go. It’s a trip away to get some head space while getting out of what seems to me to be a bad situation. I think I can say that now. Through our extended regular chats, I’m really starting to get a good enough handle on how things are.

This is making Friday become a more and more anticipated date and we’re starting to talk about English things to do and see, and just a few more fun things in general. Dr Who is a favourite show of hers, she says, and she’s looking forward to maybe catching up on some episodes here that haven’t been available in Sweden. I decide not to say it just yet, but star of the show Matt Smith is a regular at The Palmerston and lives right here in the area. That’s a fun little fact to keep to myself for now. We’re also anticipating conversations without internet lag. You know, Skype freezes and the like. Very frustrating, especially when you talk a whole bunch about something then realise the connection dropped out sometime just after you started talking. Also, not always an optimal way to teach bass. When our conversations were all purely music related and very much at a professional level of chat, I’d get through a whole song she’d asked me to play so that she could film it, only to then discover her screen had frozen somewhere near the beginning and we’d have to go again. That happened quite a few times. But here’s another thing now I mention Skype. Since Thursday when the possibility of her coming to London was mentioned we’ve only spoken on the phone. We haven’t actually seen each other at all. I don’t know about her, but I kinda feel like I want to keep it that way. Those Skype calls feel like they happened a long time ago.

Day minus three

Tuesday February 16

Maja:

Today I am going to take the corona test for travel. In this time of Corona, travel is hard and there’s a lot of things that just need to be done correctly in the right order to avoid breaking any of the new corona laws. These laws have just appeared in several countries and are subject to change without any given notice, so it is really hard to know if you will be able to actually go through with any of your plans. So right now I have to take several new things into consideration. For one, it is the new demand to have a travel certificate that shows that you’re fit for travel with no sign of Covid. To travel from Sweden to the UK, you need something called a RT-PCR test which must be taken less than 72 hours from arrival in the UK. My flight will arrive at 5 PM UK time on friday. So that means that I need to take it later than 6 PM Swedish time today. I book a time for 6:50 PM just before that centre closes for the day and hope I’ll get the certificate in time before takeoff. These tests are surprisingly expensive. A trip to London isn’t that cheap, but if you account for these tests as well, any trip abroad suddenly becomes noticeably more expensive. The price is around 1300 SEK, which is about 130 euro. 

I arrive at the centre in time, after getting lost all over the mall it is in. It’s a little hole in the wall kind of store, with no visible personnel. It’s really hard to see that the place really exists, but after walking past it about 4 times I finally notice it. I have to call a button and then a man in a labcoat comes out. He greets me and say that today’s delivery to the lab have already gone, do you want to take the test anyway? This means that I won’t get the results until the next night, but the taken test time will remain the same. I’m OK with that, I don’t want to come back here and it’ll be in time for my flight anyway so I go in to take the test. He checks my passport and we walk into the inner room which looks like a mix between a laboratory and an examination room. There are steel countertops with lab-like objects on them. He brings the testing kit which contains a test tube and a little object that looks like a small pipe cleaner. It’s made of steel and has a small brush at the end of the stick. I’m asked to tilt my head slightly backwards and he slowly sticks that horrifying object into my nose. It hurts so bad that I jolt and he drags it out. Ouch! Are you done, I ask. No, I didn’t get in quite far enough, he answers. Oh no. This really hurts. I tilt my head backwards once again and he goes in the other nostril. And he just continues. Deeper and deeper. Until he reaches what feels like the place where the nostril connects to the mouth. There he stops, turns the object around and takes it out. Finally. My nose runs, and it hurts in both nostrils. I take a tissue and blow it out. This really wasn’t very pleasant at all but it is done now. I walk back to my car, and I can feel that that object has been in my nose for at least an hour afterwards.

Mark:

Damn. I’ve just realised I really really want Maja to come. What prompted this? She takes the corona test today and if it comes out positive, no trip. OK. I hear you, and I’m telling myself the same thing: This is all purely about helping someone out and offering a friend a safe space in a difficult time. But the test thing and the prospect of a positive result and a consequent cancellation has suddenly made me feel very different about the situation. I really really want this to happen much more than I thought I did. I have no idea what to make of that. And results won’t be known until sometime Thursday. Of course a negative result is totally expected but you really just never know. It doesn’t help when Maja writes things like, ‘I don’t think I have corona.’ That’s like saying I’m sure I did, in an attempt to persuade someone you really did do that important thing. But I know she has already had corona so it won’t come back again will it? These are the kinds of things that are swirling in my mind all the time right now. I’m sure she’s thinking the same.

We also start checking official travel guidance and the like and Maja comes up with the line that Sweden is advising against travel to the UK right now. Oh dear. The elements really are quite against this.

Me and Sarah manage a rehearsal today, and we really make good progress on putting together our little show. It looks like it will be something of a five song medley with me coming in and out on bass with backing tracks used for one of the songs, and also a little a capella going on. There’s a nice little moment she’s given me where I take a solo in between one of the pieces. When I finish my solo today she loves it so much that she says, ‘That is no interlude. We’re starting the whole thing with that.’ Wow. 

It’s a seriously fun project to be working on and great to have a real musical focus especially now while my focus is being pulled all over the place, but mainly in the direction of Sweden. The goal for rehearsal right now is to have a tight 15 minute show to take out on this London road when it finally reopens for business. We’re also planning to record it for Sarah to send off to some of her contacts. Apparently she can get some funding that way if it all works out. I have no idea what funding means and I’m not asking, but Sarah’s contacts go deep into the A list of society and entertainment so whatever she shakes out of this could be quite interesting. Today we manage a full run through of what it could look like which is really cool. Still quite rough in parts, but we have something that feels like one complete piece. On Thursday we’re going to tighten up a few more details and then start trying to get this thing recorded.

It also helps take my mind off how slowly the minutes have been ticking by since Friday. This isn’t at all being helped by waiting for the results of the corona test. Thursday feels a hell of a long time away right now.

Well, it almost takes my mind off things. When we come to a close and settle down for our post rehearsal hang, Sarah says that as well as things have gone today, she can’t help notice that I seem a little bit distracted and maybe a touch hyper. She says she can see a light in my eyes shining even brighter than usual. This is unfortunate because I’m not supposed to be feeling anything, let alone showing it. I decide to open up, although it feels really strange to be actually articulating things. OK, I say. There is a girl thing going on. ‘I knew it,’ she half shrieks. ‘No no no. It’s not like that,’ I’m very quick to point out. I tell her about the helping out thing and the Maja coming thing, and the online chats and how they’ve led her to confide in me, which has led me to offer a way out, which has led us to getting really deep into, well, just about everything really. And feelings come out of that and I have no idea what to do with them. I don’t know if she feels the same way and I don’t know if I really feel anything anyway. And even if I do, I really don’t want to. I tell her that this is not an excited boy is going to meet girl thing. This is a serious situation that I’m supposed to be helping out in, not getting all, you know. Sarah just looks all coy and gigglish. Excited even. But I can think of few less appropriate words or emotions right now than excited. I just want to be calm about all this, welcome Maja in and hope that whatever I think I’m feeling just dies down. There really is no place for it here.

Sarah suggests bringing her along to the next rehearsal and maybe even letting her jam with us, possibly even becoming a part of what we’re doing. I drop cold water all over that idea saying, ‘For a start, her playing is just nowhere up to any kind of level ready for us.’ With that Sarah seems to let go of the thought, but is still keen for me to bring her to rehearsal for a hang out. Me and Sarah are clearly in social mode now so I check my phone for a few messages that I saw come in during rehearsal, and yep, there are one or two from Maja. I tell her we’ve just finished, and she says a hi to Sarah which Sarah just absolutely loves, saying she now feels connected to the story. Whatever that could mean. Sarah, there’s no story. I’m meeting this girl at the airport in a few days. We may hug, we may not. Then she’s going to come to my house and have a chill and a safe space and I’m going to carry on with my things while doing some shopping for her and maybe listen to and share a few thoughts. That’s it. There is no story.

Later when I get to message/chat to Maja a little more, she says she’s thrilled at the idea of coming along to a rehearsal or two and having an opportunity to listen and see how the pros do it. Yeah, that will be kinda cool. I really have a thing about people not directly involved being at rehearsals. If it’s ever in my control this is something I just do not allow. But I get the feeling Maja will be just fine and if Sarah’s cool with having her around then so am I.

Day minus two

Wednesday February 17

Mark:

This is very strange. Me and Maja are starting to have longer and longer silences on the phone. Sometimes we kind of stay there simply hanging out saying nothing at all, waiting to see if one of us will break the silence. If no-one does, all cool. We just keep on hanging on. I really should watch myself with this. I must admit I’m really not best pleased with it. We’re kinda starting to act like two people at the start of a relationship. Anything either of us is feeling here, if that’s even a thing that’s happening, has to be an illusion. I mean, our conversations are covering all kinds of really deeply emotional stuff as I’m helping her through this week while she prepares to fly away from her marriage for what could be just a month or two. Yeah. There you go. She’s married. What the hell am I thinking about? Got to let this go. Having thoughts stray into that kind of territory when someone’s coming to stay in your home to get away from a difficult emotional situation really is not cool. Seriously not cool. And acting on this could not possibly lead to any kind of good place so just forget it. Really. Please. I think we’re just going through some really intense conversations that I haven’t shared too much in here, but just yeah, they are intense. And deeply personal. I can’t help thinking that stuff like that is going to play with your head a bit. I’ve just got to not play back.

Today Maja gets a realistion that flying in the time of corona will create the possibility of iconically empty airport scenes. Yeah, we agree. It probably will be like that. This is a moment in history, and something people will ask about in years to come. I’m very curious about what it will be like too and we speculate a little. But then, there are also stories around of people being on packed planes, so who really knows? An interesting little item to play around with for a bit anyway.

Since Maja took the test yesterday, time has almost stopped moving. It feels like an interminable wait and thoughts do turn to what she will do if it comes out positive. I’ll let her discuss that small issue. For my part, I admit that I’ll be very disappointed if it does come out positive and she seems very pleased to hear that. Like, ‘You really do want me to come?’ Yes, I really really do. We’re on another long chat and walk into the evening when she asks me to wait. A message just came through on her phone. Oh, she says. It’s from the test centre. I have to go and open this. It’s no fun at all as we hang up and I wait to see what kind of Maja comes back on the phone. It rings about a minute later and I stare at it, knowing that there will be a before and an after of this very phone call. This is where I find out what the after will be. I answer and immediately hear laughter on the line. Oh wow. It’s come back negative. That’s it. Game on. She’s coming. This has been the last thing on the list to check off. I stop and sit on a wall. The relief is immense. Far greater than I ever thought it would be. After the initial reaction, we just both hang on the line, neither of us saying anything, almost not able to take it in. Oh, this has felt like a long long wait, with so much resting on the outcome. I think we can tell from the reaction now that neither of us was taking this for granted. This is total relief and release territory. Weight lifted. And now I feel it come off, I realise it was sitting far heavier on me than I ever imagined. I walk now and still neither of us is hardly saying a thing. Just being together in this moment of magnitude. Finally we can say it. See you on Friday. Wow yes. There’s always been a little bit of an if in there. Now it’s actually a when. See you Friday. It doesn’t seem real.

And of course I will and can go to the airport. This whole furlough thing has been a bit of an advantage in this highly unusual situation as it’s meant I’ve been more or less available to take every phonecall, almost immediately reply to a message or jump on a chat, or yes, go to an airport on any day no matter what time a flight comes in.

We talk about the arrival a little on chat as midnight ticks over and we roll into the 18th, realising that we will meet tomorrow. The thought that we’ve never actually met is just the strangest concept to both of us and we wonder how it will be in an airport in these times of Covid. The travel restrictions dictating home or hotel isolation for 10 days only came into effect a few days ago – February 15 to be exact – and how you’re supposed to behave in all this is all so new and unknown. And I have a really shocking thought. This is a really big news story in the UK. Pretty much the biggest one right now, so of course the media and attendant photographers are all over the airports, mostly Heathrow. We will have no idea what it will be like until we actually both get there. A few questions. Will hugging be allowed? Are you even allowed to meet someone off a plane and then walk through the airport with them. No idea about anything really. Especially if we do find ourselves right in the middle of a media spectacle in arrivals. It really is possible. So we formulate a plan which seems ridiculous, absurd, surreal. But these are surreal times. If it does all look like being a bit of a circus, I’ll hang back away from the main arrivals section. Then, when Maja comes out, we’ll make sure to have made eye contact. If she sees me stay where I am she’ll know what to do. And that is to follow me as I turn around and walk directly to the airport bus station and to the stop for the shuttlebus. If there’s a quiet place somewhere on the way we can then say hello in the more traditional manner. But really, a lot of this will have to be played by ear if there is something of a situation. This really is CIA stuff and to really take us to the right level of CIA clearance, I’ll have to make sure to have walked the route to the bus stop from the arrival gate before Maja arrives so that I’ll know exactly where to go. Otherwise we could have the ridiculous situation of someone following someone who’s lost and is going round in circles or worse, doubling back on themselves. No. If it comes to this, I want to be able to see Maja, make eye contact, turn round and walk straight to where we have to go. No messing. Yes we see the absolute absurdity of it all. And now, with this conversation having taken us into the small hours we have arrived at Thursday. Which means we can actually say it so we do. ‘See you tomorrow.’ But we’re not quite finished there as we start to explore how this is making us feel after this long week that’s felt more like a month. I let slip here that I’ve been really tired during the days just like Maja has. But my excuse is that I’ve been staying up all hours watching the Tennis Australian Open. She suggests this is a convenient excuse and she might just have a point. The truth is that yes, I have been a bit on edge about all this as well but I really don’t want to go there in any kind of discussion. But we do start to go there now as I admit this is all hitting me a little. Hard? Maja asks. Just little tickles, I say. Like rabbit punches. But friendly rabbits. Oh dear. Line crossed there? But she says she feels it too and puts it into real words. Belly rabbit punches. Yeah. I feel you. And like that a phrase is born. Belly rabbits. Invented by us, I say. It really is time for goodnights and I sign off saying, Goodnight and hold those rabbits in. Oh, what the hell am I writing in these chats and what the hell are we doing?

Day minus one

Thursday February 18

Maja:

I’m excited about leaving tomorrow. But my body is filled with a myriad of emotions and self doubt. Am I doing the right thing? I am going to miss everything I have here, and it also feels absolutely horrible that I know that I need to leave my puppy Tommy as well. Pets are really hard. I’ve bonded so strongly with him, he even sleeps with his head on my upper arm, using it as a pillow. I used to toss and turn quite a lot before I got a dog, but now every time I need to move during the night, I wake up and make sure I’m not crushing him or disturbing his sleep. It’s a beautiful bond we have, and I never want to leave his side. Never. Ever. He is still tiny. And he is so innocent. He has never done anything wrong and he has no idea of what is about to happen. That the only person he trusts in the world has to leave him. I know that Harry and my mum are going to take great care of him while I’m gone, but I’m his world. He doesn’t really know anything or anyone else. He is only five months old.

It breaks my heart. I love him so much. 

Mark:

Today seems to stretch out into an eternity. One more day in what has been one of the longest weeks of my life and, I’m beginning to suspect, the actual longest of Maja’s. It feels like every day since the 11th has been a constant run of battles, justifications and fears of everything becoming derailed at any moment for any number of reasons. 

Maja’s says she would like to walk a little when she gets to London. The Corona thing means self isolation for ten days meaning she will have to stay in the house during that time, but transport from the airport is, by definition, allowed. That includes having to be among people in enclosed spaces. Surely it would be better to walk some of the way. Makes sense to me. But her reasoning is more the fact that once she’s arrived at the house she won’t be able to see London at all for 10 days and I’m only just learning now that, as good as her English is, she’s never been to an actual English speaking country. So this will be her first time in London and she won’t be able to see any of it for the first 10 days. Unless she goes for at least something of a walk before getting to the house. I’ve also discovered in the past week that she knows nothing of London. Nothing. Never even heard of Leicester Square. Oxford Street and Hyde Park could be little quiet backwaters for all she cares. And Big Ben? If I told her that was the name of the guy on top of the big column in Trafalgar Square, well she’d believe me. She’s heard of all the places I’ve written about in the Diaries. The Blues Kitchen, Aint Nothin But, and various other venues and such. But mainstream tourist places? Not a notion. So we’ll start from the beginning then. I’d already decided it would be a good idea to get the London shuttle bus from Heathrow to Victoria rather than the tube so that we spend more time above ground and she can get to see London that way at least before disappearing indoors for 10 days. I want to give her the best view of London possible when she arrives so I decide I should go and check out the route from Victoria to somewhere near our place. I can kinda see it on a route map but I really want to see for myself. I also want to know exactly where we’ll have to go to catch the next bus after getting off the shuttle bus. So I take a trip to Victoria, find the drop off point for the shuttle bus and then try to find the bus stop to bring us home. It’s a lot harder than I thought and nowhere near the coach station so I already feel glad that I’ve taken the time to come and see the actual view from the ground. So yep, I’ve found the right bus stop and now I’m going to ride that bus all the way home to see how much through the sights it actually goes. It doesn’t disappoint as it winds its way all through central London before taking me somewhere close to Kentish Town. I could take it a lot closer but I’m mindful of Maja’s request to have a bit of a walk so I get off at a stop I consider to be a reasonable distance away for a 10 minute walk through north west London suburbia, emerging at the far end of Kentish Town. From there it’s a full look at what will be her local high street and a straight shoot home. Which is where I find myself right now after completing all this.

When I arrive, Maja’s there, on the computer, telling me she’s just putting the finishing touches to her packing and asking if I’m ready for her my end. I am. ‘Great, it’s really happening,’ she says. Yep. She asks if I’m going to be nervous about this first meeting but I don’t think so. She says she is, but in an excited way. That’s about natural. We look at buses and conclude she’ll be leaving the apartment a little after 10 tomorrow morning. She goes on to talk about the wonderful day she has planned for tomorrow. The books she’ll read, the music she’ll listen to, the casual, meandering journey now the 10am leaving time has been decided on. And of course whatever is waiting at the other end, mostly the fact that she’ll be in London and far from this situation she’s been wanting to get away from for so long. The time is very much almost here. She still wants to pass a little more time tonight. Hell, we both do. So we get off chat and I go out into the street for a bit of a talk on the phone where we don’t really cover much more than what we’ve already been talking about but it’s cool to hang like this, although in not more than a few daylight hours we won’t be needing the phone anymore. We don’t sign off with a goodbye. Instead, it’s what feels like a surreal, ‘See you tomorrow.’ 

London, day zero

Friday February 19

Maja:

I wake up early to finish up the last touches of the preparations. Bag is packed, I take a shower, then decide that I will bring that raincoat afterall that me and Mark have been discussing since yesterday if I’ll need or not. It’s always nice to have a raincoat so in the bag it goes. I can only take one suitcase so it has been really hard to choose what to pack. With Corona, it’s not like I’m not really going to be able to browse in any stores once I’m there, so it’s been important for me to choose wisely what to take. Mark’s been helping by buying me the bulky necessities, so I’m going to be set when I get there. I have what I need, and I’m ready to leave. With my heart as heavy as lead I say goodbye to my husband and Tommy, my dog. It’s really hard to leave. But I can’t stay. We wave and I take a last look at them and then turn around and walk away. With tears running down my cheeks. I look at the scenery around me, and it hurts so much seeing the place I had to fight so hard to get to slipping away from my reach. It’s cold and sunny outside. The tired rays of light glisten on the snow that lies undisturbed foot-deep on the side of the footpath. I walk the same path to the underground station that I’ve walked so many times before, and everything is so familiar to me. I pass the hairdresser where I got my ear pierced when I was a little kid. The swimming pool me and my family would go to when I was still in kindergarten. I have so many memories of this place, and it is with a heavy heart and tear stained cheeks that I message Mark that I’ve arrived at the station.

The trip to the airport goes without much trouble. My suitcase isn’t that heavy, and I’m only bringing one bag and a small backpack, so it isn’t hard to carry. I arrive at the airport way before necessary to have plenty of time checking in and it goes smoothly. When I reach the check-in counter the lady sitting there seems very surprised to hear that I am going to London. She checks my document to make sure that I’ve completed all of the required formalities such as the passenger locator form, ordered the covid tests for after arrival and of course that I have a certificate telling me that I have tested negative for covid. Everything is in order and I get to continue along. Once I’ve passed security and found the gate I finally start to relax a little bit. I call Mark up to see how things are going his end. Everything seems fine. He is also on his way to the airport to meet me. We talk for a while, and I feel kind of awkward not really wanting to call anyone else, so we just stay on the line. Just hanging on. Hanging out. Not saying much or anything at all, feeling relieved to know that we’re going to meet soon. 

We hang up after a while and I have to wait a bit on my own. There’s a lady walking around close to the gate with a survey and I decide to take part. It’s about why are you traveling to London. In normal times this would have been a completely unnecessary survey to do, but with recent events it is very much a valid question. Who in their right mind would want to go from a country where everything is nice and open like it is in Sweden, to a country which is in lockdown and pretty much still totally closed? To one of the hardest hit countries of this pandemic? Well, someone like me. I answer something along the lines of: to meet family/friends. That’s a fitting survey answer for a question like that. I don’t think too much of it until she expresses surprise and delight that she’s found someone who is going to London as an actual destination rather than using it as a transit point like, apparently, just about everyone else who’s going there.

It’s finally boarding time and I reach my seat. There’s not really anyone sitting closeby, which is greatly fitting for a day like today. But the plane isn’t completely empty either. I would say, maybe about 20 per cent of the seats are taken, but I’m not really looking that carefully. There is about a flight every third day, so that’s probably why they’re able to fill it up as much as they had. I sit down next to the window, wearing my compulsory face mask. The plane soon takes off and I have this immense feeling of relief. I’m on my way. I lean back and let myself drift away, listening to the album “In between dreams” by Jack Johnson. At my request of something to listen to, Mark recommended it just before I left. It’s a wonderful record, and I let it go on repeat as I allow myself to be transported to that wonderful state in between dreams. Dreams of a brighter future. Dreams of the unknown. And just sleep.

Time flies, and after I don’t know how long, we start to approach London. I sluggishly look out of the window, seeing the city that I’m going to live in. The city called London. I feel excitement starting to bubble up in my chest as, more and more, I see the details of the endless rows of brown buildings beneath the clouds. They look like gingerbread houses. London, the city of endless gingerbread houses in their neat little rows. We get closer and closer to the ground and I feel the impact as the wheels of the plane touch the ground. I’m here now!

I can’t help myself, and I text Mark, I’m here now! The first thing I do is tell him about the gingerbread houses. 

Mark:

It’s with some relief that I chat with Maja this morning. All seems to be going smoothly and she’s out of the door by 9am my time. She’s on her way now. However, by the time I’m on my way and leaving for the airport, she still doesn’t have a room in London. I was really hoping Elvin would have left by then so that I would be able to get in there and have at least something of a once over but timings just haven’t worked out so I’ll have to leave with him still occupying the place. Which means Maja will see it for the first time in whatever state he’s left it. I just have to trust he’ll do at least something of a decent job before he leaves. He’s been a good housemate and friendly enough, but he’s been pretty much been a keep himself to himself kind of guy so there are no tearful goodbyes. Or goodbyes of any kind as he’s out at work early and will be leaving while I’m out. So that’s that for Elvin. Good luck on your travels mate. On a scale of depth of feeling, it’s the equivalent of one of your goldfish dying. Probably your least favourite one.

The flight’s due in at 6pm but it can be a bit of a trek to Heathrow. And I have a few things to check out once I get there. I’ve also got one or two errands left to run to cross and dot the final i’s and t’s before Maja’s arrival, including a trip to Ktown to pick up some essentials for her that she’s asked if I could sort out. Coffee, orange juice, fresh fruit and the like. Nothing major because she’s barely been eating in Sweden over the past few weeks I’ve been hearing. All that done and I’m on my way to the airport by around 2pm quite confident of getting there in plenty of time to find the arrivals gate, and then to make sure I know the route from there to the coach station. But oh dear. I get down into Ktown tube and it takes a while for me to discover that the train I want has got issues today and there’s a substantial waiting time for it, rather than the usual zero to four minutes you can normally expect. Not cool. That almost never happens, but it’s happened on this particular day. Balls. Very reluctantly I leave the tube station to go back up to the street to catch a bus to Kings Cross, where I will catch the train to Heathrow. Disaster up here too as a whole bunch of buses aren’t running for some reason and I have another wait of 15 to 20 minutes when again, a maximum of four is to be expected. So, having given myself an extra hour for the journey, I’ve already lost most of the grace of that time. Then, when the bus does finally get here and we set off, I discover that Ktown is undergoing a whole bunch of roadworks and these cause even more delays. This really isn’t going very well at all. If I’d left in what I thought would have been optimal time and had this lot happen I’d probably be looking at arriving late by now, and Maja walking out into London with no-one to meet her. That just would not be an option. As it is, by the time I finally get on the Kings Cross to Heathrow train the timing is looking at least half respectable and I arrive at the airport a little before 5pm. 

Then I discover I’m already very close to the arrivals gate, and then that the coach station is also very nearby to that. Cool. I think I deserve those two mini breaks. All I have to do now is buy a couple of coach tickets and I’ll be at the gate ready and waiting by 5:30. Perfect. No. Problem. There was nothing about this on any website I saw but the Heathrow coach isn’t running due to Covid. And no other buses from here are remotely suitable. Balls again. OK. Let’s just get to the gate to be ready in situ and make a new plan from there. I park myself in sight of where the people come out and have a look at the tube plan I keep in my bag. Yep. This will do nicely. We can get a tube to Piccadilly Circus where Maja will be able to get her first look at central London. Then it’s a really cool but not too long walk from there to the bus stop by Oxford Circus station to catch the 88 that will go all the way to our house, or we can get off it a little earlier if Maja still wants to have that walk she was talking about before having to start that 10 day quarantine thing.

Now I’ve done this and I really am ready, I have a chance to fully take in my surroundings and to see how people are behaving. First, the good news is that there is no sign of any TV cameras. And people are allowed to come and meet friends and relatives; a sign says that only one person is allowed to greet arrivals. That’s fine. I counted myself on the way here and confirmed that I am indeed one person. The place is weirdly empty though. You’d normally expect to see whole families all milling around arrivals. But no. Just a few individuals dotted around, possibly also reflecting the fact that there will not be many people arriving at arrivals. This should be quite quick. I wonder how Maja’s flight is getting on. We’re very much edging towards 6pm now. It should be just about landing. And yep. There it is on the screen. Landed and on it’s way in. My phone pings. ‘Just landed. Waiting to get out. Woooooooooooooooooooooo!!’ ‘Welcome to London,’ I shoot back. This really is it now and she asks what our strategy for meeting is. She’s very pleased that I’m able to report we can just behave normally. With masks on, of course. She should be coming through soon, but no-one emerges from the gates at all and time starts to drag on. And on. And on. Then I start to hear people coming through the gates furiously complaining of waits of up to three hours. Oh dear. That’s not good. Neither is the fact that they seem to be coming out in very intermittent groups of three. And Maja’s talking of hundreds of people out there waiting to come through. I think I should settle in here. But after an hour she messages to say she’s near the end of the queue. Great. Then a message a few minutes later. ‘After this queue, do you know what they got?’ ‘Don’t know.’ ‘A new queue.’ Oh that’s a good one.

I’m clearly not the only one waiting far beyond what I expected but I think I can see the most uncomfortable person in the room. Someone thought it would be a really good idea to turn up at arrivals wearing a dinosaur costume. Yep. Full on tyrannosaurus rex thing. I’m sure it was such a laugh to arrive and anticipate the delighted shock of their friend. I wonder how that’s all working out now. I can see the costume over there this whole time. The poor guy, or girl, in there, has been waiting at least an hour and a half over the odds. And I’m sure that when whoever it is they’re meeting comes out, their mood will be quite different to what it was when the plane landed. Unfortunately I don’t see how that little drama plays out because I get a message. Only eight people in front of her now. Then two. Then.

I see her walking through arrivals all on her own, pink jacket on just like she said she would have, as though we wouldn’t have recognised each other. But then, maybe we wouldn’t have with the whole mask thing going on. I’m looking straight at her but she hasn’t seen me as her eyes dart side to side looking for at least a semi familiar face in this country she’s never seen before. I take a step forward and our eyes lock. Oh yes. Here we are now and we both walk to close the distance between us. All I want to do is hug her hard and let her know she’s OK now. And that’s exactly what happens as we say hello and pull each other tight as we finally find ourselves on the same little patch of ground. Then I tell her the bus is out but we have a new route. First, the lift, and arriving there we’re on our own. So our masks come off and we see each other fully and up close for the first time. Cool. Another hug, without talking, then the doors open again and a few people walk in so the masks go back on. After the lift I take the lead as we head into the tube and it’s really bizarre that there are hardly any people here. She asks where we’re going and I say it’s a surprise but that she’ll like it. She accepts that and on we go. When the train arrives and we find a carriage, we’re the only people in it. So once seated, we take the opportunity to remove the masks again but still neither of us speaks. Instead, she removes her right hand from her pocket and shows it to me, holding all the fingers up to give me a clear look. Oh wow. Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing? I don’t actually ask the question but it’s clear in my eyes. She totally receives the unspoken, incredulous words and nods slowly. With that she takes my hand in hers and leans against me like the weary traveler she is. As she does so I get a much closer look at her ring finger with that white band of skin circling it where a wedding ring used to be. I put an arm around her and we both snuggle in, hands still holding. But really, it feels very innocent. She’s tired and I’m just comforting a friend who’s had a really tough few weeks and more, and a bit of a journey today followed by an uncomfortably long wait in arrivals, all while traveling in the time of Covid. It just so happens that we only met for the first time a few minutes ago. It’s often too loud on the tube to talk comfortably so she waits patiently and trustfully until I announce that it’s time to get off. We’re in Piccadilly Circus and, with me carrying her suitcase, we walk up the steps and into the famous plaza with its overlooking motion and colour-filled advertising screens. Here, I get her to stand in front of them as I step back with my phone. Snap. Maja’s first photograph in London and we are right in the heart of it. She has truly arrived. Phone back in pocket and I lead the way again, heading off to Regent Street. In my left hand I have the handle of Maja’s wheeled suitcase. And now, in my right hand, I have Maja’s hand. We look at each other and smile. She isn’t letting go. And just for the record, neither am I.

We walk down Regent Street then I direct us down a side street to the right, then left to continue walking in the same direction. We’re now on Kingly Street and I ask if she has any idea where she is. She doesn’t. We continue a little way, and then she lets out a little oh wow, of recognition as we arrive in front of Ain’t Nothin But…The Blues. London’s world famous blues bar and a major venue in the jam world of Mark’s Diaries. We stop here for a selfie, chat for a little while, and then we’re back off on our way, talking about everything, nothing, and just generally laughing a lot. And in this lockdown London world, there are times when it feels like we have the city to ourselves, at the very least we are totally alone in these side streets. Yes. Right now, London is ours so much that it feels as though we’re wearing it. We walk past the famous Carnaby Street and its imposing sign and back onto Regent Street where we cross the road at Oxford Circus and go on over to the bus stop for the 88. We wait there, still holding hands and talking for five minutes or so and then Maja asks if it’s possible to walk back to my house from here. It is. ‘Can we do that?’ she asks. Yep. We will. And so we walk. Hand in hand all the way. She’s fast, and I’m more than happy to keep this pace. As a result we heat up quite quickly and jumpers come off somewhere halfway between here and Camden town. All the way she’s marvelling at how old so much of the architecture seems to be and I delight in pointing out buildings that are hundreds of years old, yet sit perfectly comfortably wedged in between their modern cousins. Through Camden and Maja doesn’t know it yet, but we’re on the final strait as the road merges seamlessly with that of Kentish Town’s high street. We’re still holding hands and are just past the main shops of KTown when a woman remarks on our T-shirted appearances. ‘Are you guys not cold at all?’ she asks as she approaches, walking in the opposite direction. ‘Not at all,’ I answer honestly. ‘You should try it. It feels lovely.’ ‘I think I’ll leave it to younger people like yourselves,’ she says. ‘I’m freezing.’ ‘Walk a bit faster, it works for us,’ I call good naturedly to her as she starts to disappear into the night. She laughs and politely declines again. Next to me, Maja is almost in shock. ‘You talk to strangers over here?’ ‘All the time,’ I say laughing at the clear awe in her face. ‘You should try it.’ ‘No thanks.’ Give it time.

We’ve arrived and we take a left turn into the Carrol Close estate. For the past 10 minutes or so she’s been asking if some of the houses we’ve been seeing look like ours and I’ve been saying no, and she’s also been asking if our house looks like the gingerbread houses she told me earlier that she saw from the air on her London approach. Again, no. Then we’re in the estate and she sees the row of houses we’re heading towards. ‘Oh, they’re totally like the gingerbread houses I saw from the air,’ she says emphatically. OK. I guess we do live in a gingerbread house then.

I open the front gate and go to open the door to the house but Maja stops me. ‘Not yet,’ she says. ‘Can’t we wait outside for a while? I’m not ready to go in and meet a load of new people yet.’ Fair enough. I suggest leaving the suitcase right inside the door and going for a walk but she doesn’t want to walk anymore either. So we sit down on the small front garden step. There, still holding hands, we talk quietly about nothing in particular.

I’m sure you’re wondering if I’m feeling the slight stirring of something here and the answer is very much yes. And for the Jenn situation, it’s about time I say here that we’re just friends, just very close friends who happen to have lived together for quite a long time. Going on 12 years in fact. I might as well get this bit out now as well. We were in a relationship very early on, and that lasted a year give or take. The joke back then among our Madrid friends was that we split up and then started dating, which is actually a pretty fair take on what happened. And we carried on living comfortably together. It probably helped that the Hamburg jaunt with Drunken Monkees straddled the two realities of couple Mark and Jenn and friend Mark and Jenn. Hamburg was my pop punk band’s German adventure when we tried to emulate some foursome from Liverpool and set ourselves up there as a band that really could have a chance of doing something. It didn’t work out and I returned to live in Madrid with a girl I’d broken up with on the phone while in Germany. It was pretty much mutual to be fair and we made it quite clear in the subsequent years, through a few more moves together as well, that we were both free to pursue other avenues if something came along. She even once said the words, ‘Don’t think we’re going to grow old together.’ However, nothing really did come along for either of us, so we settled into a really quite comfortable pattern around each other which included living in the same room in this house in Kentish Town where we’ve been for the better part of five or six years now. I don’t really know about her, I don’t think she has, but I haven’t really been properly looking for anything to replace this. Not seriously, except for the odd mild dalliance here and there which I’ve always told her about. Over the years I’ve quite got to like our cosy friendly, companionable-but-apart comfortzone. Why look for anything else? This works. 

Well now Maja’s sitting next to me and our chat has subsided to a very comfortable silence with her looking the other way to me and out towards the far end of the close. I start to let in whatever it is I’ve been feeling and holding back over the past few days as I realise this could actually be something and I suddenly realise I’m in one of those moments in life you just can’t let pass you by. You think you’ll get another chance some other time but you really don’t and you have to take this one. This one that I’ve arrived at completely by accident. Alright, I deliberately said the words, ‘You could come here,’ but they were just words to help out. Nothing more. But then the seriousness began and I became a very virtual shoulder to lean on. Now I’m a very literal shoulder to lean on. If she chooses to, which she isn’t right now. Yes. I’ve opened the gates to my thoughts and feelings. I had them locked so tight, I thought, but they’ve suddenly turned into floodgates and become overwhelmed. With that, I know I really do have to do something right now or regret it and forever wish I had. But she’s suddenly so physically far away. She starts to say something, I think. But I cut her off. With my left arm already over her shoulder, I gently but firmly and quite quickly direct her head so that she now faces me. I can’t allow for heistation now. I just can’t. To hesitate would be to stop. To stop would be…I don’t want to think what it would be. I just follow on through with the movement, but then suddenly realise that she’s completely going with it. We meet in the middle and kiss. It goes on for quite a long time. With that, everything comes together. We part and I realise all my mental energy just went into making that moment happen and I have no idea what to say now it has actually happened. But there is no silence. She immediately jumps into it with a big smile and a wide eyed exclamation. ‘I can kiss Mark.’ ‘Yes you can,’ I say, with what must be a pretty stupid looking smile as I try to act cool. So she does. And I do. Again and again. Then abruptly she stands up. Did I say stands up? She doesn’t. From a sitting start, she breaks into an immediate run, still holding my hand. ‘What the h…’ I say to the open air of the street. But I have no choice. All I can do is launch myself upwards, pulled by her own force, and run with her. Together, still holding hands, we sprint to the end of the close. Then we turn and sprint back to the house. With that completed she turns to me and takes both my hands in hers. Ever so slightly out of breath she says,  ‘OK. I’m ready. We can go in now.’ 

We walk into the house to just a little bit of a social anticlimax. Given Maja’s hugely extended wait to get through security at arrivals, and the fact that we walked here from central London, we’re arriving a lot later than I expected. Neither Sam or Cris are still up, and Jenn is only around to say hi, to give Maja the bedding things and other sundries we bought, and then she pretty much disappears. That leaves me and Maja to have a look at what she has to deal with in the room that is now hers. Despite all I did to prepare her, she’s still stunned at how small the room is. Again, I did say but it really is super tiny; I will later learn that her walk-in closet at the apartment she left this morning is the same size. Now I take in the state of the place. By London house sharing standards it’s actually been left in an acceptable enough state by Elvin, but it’s not quite up to Maja standards. So although she’s had a long and emotional day, she insists we get busy with a full deep clean of the room before we can go to bed. OK. Let’s get started.

London, day one

Saturday February 20

Mark:

We barely move from the room today. Maja’s at the very beginning of a journey which is all about recovery. I know that she’s felt tense and almost emotionally hunted for a long time. She’s now out of that situation but the effects and feelings run deep and do not disappear just like that. But she says that last night was the best night’s sleep she’s had since she can remember. Actually the first time since she can remember that she slept all the way through the night. A notable event in itself. She was just restful and relaxed, for the first time since she can remember. With that she has a wake up call of just how much she needed to get out of her situation in Sweden. So yes. Right now is about rest with absolutely no obligations to do anything. For a full ten days. In fact, she’s essentially legally obliged to do practically nothing for the next ten days anyway, or at least not to go anywhere. It’s also about processing. Lots and lots of processing. I spend the whole day listening as Maja talks about what she’s been through over the past year or so. As she talks, it’s clear that she’s doing so to fathom things out for herself as much as engaging me in her thoughts. There are so many branches and avenues down which we can drive and I gently nudge her into a few of them, leading us to explore, in detail, quite a few smaller parts of the big picture. Through all this I basically just try to put pieces together and make sense of it all. It helps that we’ve spoken so much on the phone over the past week and I’ve at least got a handle on some of it, especially the more up to date stuff which I’ve lived or heard about more or less in real time.

We also touch on a few tiny details of our phone calls in the past week, including some of the little hints we dropped to each other which led to bigger hints, which have all led to where we are now.

In between, Maja gets to meet Cris, the leader and vocalist in Wild Child, the Italian heavy metal band I play and travel with, and Sam. The guys are massively friendly and welcoming to her, and when they talk I do my best to stay firmly on the sidelines and let their own conversations develop. Basically, I want these interactions to be organic, with no input from me, and they are indeed organic as Maja charms them with her enthusiasm of being in a whole new environment with new people to hang out with.

These little interludes aside, the two of us talk so much that we totally forget about eating until it hits something like 8pm and we realise we’ve made no plans. The last thing Maja ate was breakfast yesterday morning. I’m not that much different, although I did manage to grab a small thing at the airport once I realised the security holdup was happening. She asks if it’s possible to get takeout sushi at this time in London. Yes it is. But I have to leave now to get to Camden before the place closes. One mad dash later and we have something resembling dinner and the first thing Maja has eaten in almost 36 hours.

Maja:

I wake up alone in the small bed, looking around myself in dislocated confusion. Where am I? It’s hard to remember just what happened last night. I turn around and look at the room, it’s tiny. The walls are white and have specks of dirt on them, the ceiling is white and somewhat patterned, like someone’s been painting it with a drippy paint that wouldn’t quite stick on. There’s a closet that’s small, but proved to fit all my clothes without any problems. By my feet I find a little shelf, over the bed next to the window. Under the bed there’s three drawers. I rest my eyes a little more, squeezing my face down in the pillows, looking up again. Yeah. The room is the same. It’s not my room in Stockholm. This is a minimal room, that would barely be enough for a child’s room. But. It’s mine. The bed feels wonderful, it’s soft. And from it I can see out of the window. Outside there’s a beautiful tree, and it’s in full bloom right now. I feel exhausted, but also rested in a strange way. I’ve slept through the night for the first time in a long time, which is a noticeable event in itself. The room is small, but I don’t care; I’m so happy that I’m here.

I search for my toiletries, and try out the shower. It’s a nice shower, shared with all the other tenants, of course, but it even has a bathtub and I’m pleased to see that it is kept clean. Showered and dressed I go down to the kitchen, where I meet Mark.

Goodmorning, we say as we sheepishly look at each other, and soon afterwards we go back to my room to get to know each other a little bit better. 

In the evening, I ask Mark for sushi, and when he gets back with it I’m very careful eating only a little bit of it.

London, day two

Sunday February 21

Maja:

I’m in London. It’s a surreal fact to me and every time I try to reflect on it, it hits me forcefully by surprise. I am quite excited about being here. I’m not really sure what life has in store for me here, but that is of less concern. Right now, I’d just like to rest and talk. I spend most of the day with Mark, staring at the ceiling, telling him about who I am and listening to his stories as well. All while looking out the window at the beautiful tree. We joke a lot, and one of our favorite subjects here is that since I can’t go out at all due to the enforced isolation, I could be anywhere. I could be in Brazil for all I know. And we continue to joke about how cold it is in Brazil this time of year. 

We have a garden I can use even though I am in isolation, which is lovely. So we go out there, just for a little while. But apart from that, we’re just in bed. Resting. Talking. 

Mark: 

Today, as we again hang out in the bedroom all day, mostly just staring at the ceiling, I hear story after story of Maja being held back professionally in her career and in music. Stories of people not wanting her to succeed or move away. Stories of her being bullied or ostracised at school. It all builds up a clear picture for me of people feeling they have to hold her down because they’re scared of her. Maja really cannot get her head around this concept. ‘Scared? Of me? Are you serious? How? Why?’ My explanation: scared of what they know she could really become if she was allowed free reign. Scared of her huge innate talent and intelligence. Scared of her drive to use both to their full potential. Scared that she could raise to levels they never could, thereby amplifying their smallness. So they hold her down, back, and discourage and psychologically beat her at every turn and opportunity. For many people, seeing anyone around them succeed only makes them feel more like failures. So rather than do something about this, they try to block any path to success for those around them. Or mock or denigrate their success or efforts with any verbal weapon they have. Basically, they’re terrified of anyone showing them what their lives could have been if they’d only tried and maybe believed a bit more. Maybe they never even had the opportunities to be fair, but that doesn’t mean they should try to remove those opportunities from others, but they do. In Maja I see an absolutely classic case of all of this. I’ve used the following example so many times when considering similar situations and it comes from a Counting Crows lyric. ‘It’s a lifetime commitment recovering the satellites/All anyone really wants to know is when you gonna come down.’ Yep. All I see is that people are terrified of Maja. I think that once she’s recovered from wherever she is emotionally and physically right now, and is able to direct her energies to where she wants to direct them, world, just get out of the damn way. This machine will be unstoppable. The people were quite possibly right to be frightened. They were every million ways wrong to try to stop it. I’m starting to see now that my job is to ensure Maja’s total wellbeing and to do everything I can to give her a safe space in which to relax and recover. To feel absolutely no pressure. And above all, not to tell her she can’t do something she wants to do, which is mostly musical endeavours after mentally breaking down and largely losing her professional identity in a field in which she continues to hover somewhere near the very top. This has been a really big part of how she’s got to this place in the first place – having to fight a constant battle to be who she wants to be. So hard that she’s lost the very sight of who she is. In just this second full day together I’m getting a growing sense that a big priority of mine is to make sure she discovers that again.

In between all this talking there is a little flurry of activity sometime mid afternoon as we remember, just in time for that day’s post, that Maja has to do the first of the two Covid tests as part of the legal requirement of her quarantine. It’s a good job there are two of us as it takes both of us to figure out how to do this thing, mostly how to put together the flat-pack cardboard box she’s been sent to post it all back in. In between this and intense conversations, we eat nothing at all until evening, totally forgetting to do so as the idea of food just slips off both of our to do lists. Again.

When evening time does come and we realise we should probably eat something, Maja decides it’s time she gets into the spirit of being in England a bit and wants to try something typically English. Hmm. What could that be? And given that it’s quite late by the time I’m going out shopping, options are limited. What is typically English food anyway? I’m really not sure. I browse the shelves of the supermarket and there they are. Supermarket bought so not fully authentic, but nevertheless, English. I bring back small individual pork pies, scotch eggs and a quiche. In case you don’t know, here’s a little introduction to all three. Pork pies are characterized, at least as far as I see it, by the type of pastry used to make them. So you have kind of minced pork meat in a dense crunchy pastry very rich in pork fat. Scotch eggs are a full egg wrapped in sausagemeat which is then covered in breadcrumbs and deep fried. So yes, these two things really do have quite high calorie counts. Then there’s quiche, described by Maja when I get back, as an egg pie, but sorry, no. But it is again a pastry based thing containing cooked egg and usually some kind of meat and cheese. And onions. So again, quite high on the calorie scale. I introduce all these to Maja along with that great cornerstone of all things British, brown sauce, a kind of rich, spicy vinegary sauce without which bacon, eggs and most types of British sausage are somehow incomplete. That might just be me, but you get the picture.

Maja:

By evening, I ask Mark to go buy me some English food, I think it is time for me to try something English. I’ve been here for two days now, and haven’t really tried anything yet, so it’s time. Off he goes, I fall asleep and when I wake up he is back. He’s bought a couple of things and is in the kitchen preparing them. When he’s done, he calls me down and we eat. For the first time today.  And we didn’t eat anything at all yesterday. We just had a little bit of sushi yesterday. What I didn’t expect is that English food is quite heavy. And I’ve been really bad at eating recently. So I sit in the kitchen and Mark serves me this decent sized meal, so the polite thing is to eat it, which is what I do. It’s good, the pork pie, scotch egg and quiche are all quite nice. Although not really any extreme flavours or anything which is great, but just quite fatty. I eat maybe half of the meal, and then I sit back, waiting for Mark to finish. Doing so, I can feel how my stomach starts to act up. It starts to cramp. Slowly at first, but soon more and more violently. I’m getting cold sweats and am really wishing Mark could finish up his portion so I can excuse myself. As soon as he does, I tell him that I want to go rest, and I hurry up upstairs and lie down. It’s painful. Really painful. I can’t remember what happened any further than this, everything that remains is the memory of pain. My consciousness must have faded away.

Mark:

I get back and she’s very interested to see what I’ve brought, and keen to try everything so we get to it. So far so fun, and I’m really quite tickled that she seems to really like it all, especially the brown sauce which many foreigners really don’t understand or remotely like. Then, as soon as we’ve finished eating, Maja says she needs to sleep. This, I will discover, will become a pattern as her body recovers from barely eating for the past however long it’s been. But right now, I am in no way prepared for what is about to happen. Almost as soon as we’re in the bedroom the convulsions start. I ask her what’s wrong but she can barely speak, at least not enough to tell me anything useful. Her whole stomach seems to be contracting and as it does, her head flies back, her eyeballs also shooting up and back as it does so. In between is the most horrible, at times high pitched hyperventilating. I try to get her to concentrate on breathing normally, at least, but I get little reaction to that. 

Otherwise, there’s absolutely nothing I can do but watch, horrified, not even sure yet what could possibly have caused this. As I watch helpless, my hand is on my phone and I wonder at what point I’m going to just call it and hit 999. This goes on for about five minutes but it feels like 55. Then slowly everything starts to slow down, back to normal-ish. Her breathing slows and she looks at me like, ‘What the hell happened?’ Like she’s just arrived in the room to the aftermath of some dramatic scene she played no part in. With that she closes her eyes and falls into a sleep I’ll best describe as restless. But asleep she is. I am not. I stay awake for an hour or so until she wakes again, all the time watching and making sure functions are all normal. Or at least normal enough that I don’t have to return to my phone and thoughts of 999. Those thoughts are with me almost every second of that hour.

London, day three

Monday February 22

Last night we didn’t speak much about what happened, but today we get into it, especially now I’ve seen first hand how bad things have physically gotten for Maja. I’d been told of course, but I guess I have to admit that until last night when I saw it for myself, I really didn’t understand how bad it all really was. I still don’t fully, until she reluctantly admits why what happened last night happened. The way I understand it is that she was caught in a double fix of not wanting to hurt my feelings and of genuinely wanting to try everything. For the past few weeks, along with insomnia, she’s barely been able to eat anything above survival rate, often going days or maybe even weeks of eating below the recommended calorie intake, and almost forcing herself at that. I also feel guilty at having introduced such fat-rich foods to her so soon, but I really had no concept at all of how much those kinds of foods could have affected her. That they could have caused such dramatic events was inconceivable to me. And I know what inconceivable means.

The one time we eat today, again quite late on, all we have is a super bland veggie soup – vegetables and water. Not even any salt. And some simply and very lightly fried white fish, after which Maja has another very tired reaction. It is this that triggers her to finally admit to the problems she has with eating, and I realise that I have to tone it down even more when cooking for her. No seasoning of any kind, and absolutely no oil. I really do have to treat her as though she’s properly sick with a body incapable of digesting anything beyond the simple. In that, this is like reintroducing someone to food who has been starved of it for so long for whatever reason. Within that, I’ve decided to eat only what Maja eats. It isn’t a wonderful diet but it really helps with the solidarity of the situation.

Talking about all this, today we focus on what stress has done to Maja’s body and general habits and the picture painted really isn’t pretty. We also decide that what she has isn’t an eating disorder. It’s more like the inability to be able to eat, which is quite different. And as she’s becoming more relaxed here, she is actually starting to want to eat and is even enjoying it a little, as much as one can enjoy bland boiled veggies and white fish. Although I have to say, I did do it quite well.

Maja:

I need to say, I love my family. I love my husband. With my whole heart. A lot of things have happened that have led me to where I am today. But this is one thing I am absolutely adamant on making clear. I can’t be angry at you, or blame you. I would never wish anything bad of any of you. I miss you. I love you so much it hurts my whole being not being with you. Every day. Always. I love you. 

I’m used to being seen as this strong woman that can do anything and never has any real issues, which makes talking about the issues I have really hard. I’m bad at talking about it. I am even bad at admitting any issues to myself. I’m fine. Nothing’s on my mind. Everything is wonderful. I am not vulnerable. I am strong. I am smart. I can handle myself. I can do anything.

Yeah, you get it, I’m that kind of person. 

This can sometimes lead to loneliness and isolation, even in normal times. Add to that, Covid, which has meant it even became frowned upon to meet friends and family. Meetings become sparse and, since I’m usually the one instigating meetings, they become practically non-existent. But I am not good alone, I need people around me to function. I get it if you don’t understand I can be both at once, but I can. I feel alone even when I’m with people but I am very sociable and need to have people around me. 

I’ve often felt alone and I have had a hard time to feel properly understood. So often I only tell maybe one person how I feel, or I don’t tell anyone. It’s hard enough to admit to myself if I have any issues, and if I tell someone and they don’t understand me or take it lightly, I find it so incredibly hurtful that I might not want to speak about it again. 

I always try to be openhearted and explain to people close to me what is going on, I would never purposefully hide my intentions. I just don’t have it in me to deceive anyone. Mark describes me as purehearted to such a level that I can’t even understand how people can have bad intentions. How people can want to hurt people. I can’t help but agree, I don’t understand how people would like to do that. I know some people do. I just would never want to hurt anyone. Ever.

I’m very selective about who I trust enough to talk about any issues, and I rarely even mention anything to anyone. Much easier on everyone. So the problem becomes when I can’t solve the issue by myself. That’s why I’ve been very stressed for a long time now. I’ve been very alone in a situation that grew worse, and I’ve not felt understood in why I’ve taken the decisions I’ve had to take by those I’ve confided in. Which makes me feel taken lightly in a bad situation, leading to further stress and isolation from the world around me. 

I hope that explanation of my personality makes it a little easier for you to understand why the story has come to where it is today.

I’ve been having a hard time recently, and I have had a hard time getting that understood. This has led to me feeling very stressed and I seem to be one of those people that have a problem eating if I get too stressed. It’s like I just can’t eat at all. Usually I am on the other side of the spectrum, alway having to control myself so I don’t eat too much and make sure I eat healthily. So during this period I’ve lost weight a little bit quicker than might have been advisable. I’ve stayed mindful that this is a problem, trying to not completely skip eating and I’ve drunk a lot of water to help me stay alert. A little habit I used to have from years back, is to take a bath when I’m cold, to heat up. I used to do this often, especially when trying one diet after the other. A lot of diets can leave you feeling really cold, so this time when I’ve had these problems eating I’ve taken a lot of baths to heat myself up.

Today I tell Mark about how it got to this place and that I want to return to ordinary eating habits as quickly as possible. He got really worried from what happened last night and I want to calm him down regarding that. I tell him about the stress and how that has made me unable to eat. And that this stress has been there for quite a long time by now, so my body needs to gently get back to normal eating habits. 

Mark listens. Actively. It feels nice to feel heard. I’m not sure how much he understands, but he is starting to puzzle together an image of where I’m coming from. We talk for hours and hours. Of how I feel both mentally and physically. A lot of the subjects I bring up seem to be outside of his normal experiences but he is a great speaking companion. It’s great that he actively listens and tries not to judge. 

Mark:

After dinner I cry in front of Maja for the first time. I have a chunk of my tongue missing. It got ripped off in a hospital accident when I was four years old and very much conscious. I’ve told the story many times, but have only cried once while telling it, which was during a counselling session when I was deep into my fibromyalgia years. Today I cry not for myself but for thoughts my mother and the ordeal she suffered as a result of my own trauma. She was only in her early to mid twenties at the time and what she saw would have mentally scarred the most battle hardened of people.

I was five years old, maybe four. For the purposes of this, I’ve decided I was four. I was in hospital for what was something of an experimental operation on a cleft palate which came as part of the deal of having a hare lip. This cleft is essentially a hole in the roof of the mouth, near the front. The idea to close it was to open up the skin up there, do the same to the end of my tongue, and then surgically attach the two together. The idea was that the two would become anatomically fused, then in a second operation, the tongue could be cut away, leaving the new skin behind, thus closing the hole. I was five, maybe four.

I naturally couldn’t talk much after this operation. There was some debate of me having a kind of signalling device for when I wanted attention. My mum suggested a whistle. I suggested a trumpet. We never got that far.

Although it was an NHS operation, I had a private room. I often did when I had operations at Booth Hall hospital where I was very well known by most of the staff, at least on this particular ward. My physical progress since birth had been so good that there were pictures of me on the wall in the main corridor to show it. This was among pictures of many of the other young patients unfortunate enough to have to frequent a place such as this. My surgeon was the legendary John Lendrum, known to me even deep into adult life, only as Mr Lendrum. His work in the treatment of hare lips and cleft palates was revolutionary and experimental and I believe he spent some time working in developing countries in this very field. I never saw him again once my time in his care was over, which was probably around the early teenage years, and he died in 2015 leaving behind a considerable legacy.

I think this is an excellent opportunity to post up my own selected excerpts of this tribute to him which I found on the website livesonline.rcseng.uk

He was appointed as a consultant plastic surgeon to the North West Region, at three widely separated hospitals – Booth Hall Children’s Hospital, Withington Hospital and Rochdale. It was a good thing that he enjoyed driving, usually fast, in coloured sports cars, with the top down. The stories of his car parking activities in the various hospitals were legendary. My mum said that this sounded exactly like the man she remembered. 

J L was a skilled surgeon. He taught all the time and enjoyed watching young surgeons develop under his guidance and inspiration. He hated management interference with his ability to provide the best possible service for his patients. He was not a committee man and never sought high office in any association, but was elected to the council of BAPS in 1984 and did much useful work chairing the manpower planning and development committee, shaping the future of plastic surgery. John was elected an honorary member of BAPS in 1995. He was an honorary associate of the University of Manchester.

John enjoyed painting and retirement enabled him to paint more. He described himself as an artist with a 35-year interruption for a surgical career! He was a member of the Medical Artists’ Association.

John was a colourful individual; he was loyal and generous, took great care of his patients and staff, but could be rebellious and outrageously incorrect! 

I have no idea what that last statement means, but I’m sure you get the picture. From what I take away from this, basically a man who knew what he was doing, cared deeply about it and what it meant to the people under his care – one of which was of course me – and had absolutely no time for people who had no idea what they were talking about interfering in any of his business in any way.

I was sitting watching TV – Lassie since you’re asking – when a nurse came in on her own. I was five, maybe four.

I didn’t know exactly what she wanted, but she was holding a syringe with a scary looking needle attached. I’d had all kinds of injections and needles since birth so the sight of a needle in the hands of an adult who was about to puncture me with it was already routine. It  held absolutely no fear for me. But this lady was alone and that did. She didn’t even say anything to me, just came towards me as though I was an object she could just stick things in. I wasn’t having that and moved away from her. She wasn’t having that and moved closer to me, at speed. I moved away from her again. She wasn’t having that and came again until the two of us were walking, then running round in circles around the room. Yes, a grown adult, in some petty state of thwarted authoritarian petulance by now at having been disobeyed by a small child, was chasing said small child around a hospital ward brandishing a needle. I started to say no, no, no. Then more. I was five, maybe four.

I screamed.

Yep. Everything just came apart.

I have no memory of that. I remember watching the TV, I remember her coming in, I remember the running round in circles bit. Between that and my mum and her mum entering the room – walking or running I have no idea – I have nothing. For what happened in between I have to rely on the memory of my mother, who wouldn’t even talk of this to me until almost 30 years later, such was the trauma it inflicted upon her. My grandmother never spoke to me of it and I can’t believe it’s a topic I would never have raised with her. What they encountered was me screaming, a bemused nurse, and blood. Horror movie blood. All in my mouth, all down my chin, and all over my white hospital gown and all onto the floor. Enough to slip in. I know that I was quickly sedated, then anaesthetised and operated on again to tidy up this mess. Within that, I lost the end of my tongue and the roof of my mouth was significantly collapsed and similarly scarred. The hold that they were trying to patch up was worse than it had been when it started, although over the years it has mostly closed, just by dint of my growing, so they could have just waited for that to happen and spared us all the – quite literal – pain, not to mention the, again quite literal, sweat blood and tears.

The nurse, I have no idea what happened to her and don’t want to speculate. The operation was abandoned as far as I know and, due to my own selective amnesia of the episode, I was spared the trauma that affected those two female generations. So I’ve always been able to tell the story with a bit of a jokey demeanour. But today I tell Maja of it from the point of view of my mother. It’s too much to think of and I’m barely through it when the tears come. Another little thing that brings us that much closer together.

Maja:

After getting back after dinner, Mark approaches me with what I think of his harelip. I tell him that I don’t really think that much of it. He continues with asking me, you must think something of it. No, not really. I mean, I can see that your upper lip is mainly scar tissue, and it feels a bit strange kissing you. It’s not like kissing anyone I’ve ever kissed before. But I’m OK with that. Mark is really happy that I seem to be so unbothered by it. I mean it was a big shock when I first kissed him, it just felt a bit off. It’s stubblier than usual. Yes, that’s a word now. Since there’s not much of the pink lip tissue, and the stubble starts just where the lip ends, the stubble kind of cuts into my lips when he needs a shave.  And also, his tongue is significantly shorter than normal, which kind of threw me off balance the first time, before I knew what had happened. 

When I’ve thought about this, I’ve seen and noticed the scar tissue, but things like that are deeply personal, so I haven’t been wanting to pry. I decided that I’m going to wait until he wants to tell me the story and that seems to be now. So he talks. And talks. And I get the opportunity to ask questions.

To me this story is worse than I could ever have imagined. So I just listen, and I feel with him, and hug him tightly as he cries. He cries, violently. For the loss of part of his tongue. For the hospital abuse that left him forever mutilated. For the trauma inflicted upon his mother and family seeing everything happening to him as they arrived in the immediate aftermath. For the time and time again of broken promises of surgically fixing the face. For the hope those promises gave, that continued being crushed. Time and time again.

To describe how it looks, his upper lip is almost nonexistent. The lower lip goes outward as a usual lip does, but the upper lip doesn’t have much of that soft pink lip tissue. There is a ton of scar tissue that seems to be connecting the lip tissue with the nose. And that tissue is so tight he has almost no movement there. And the nose is completely surgically made as well, but that story is for another day. 

Mark:

Let’s make this the other day. I was born without a nose. How did I smell? Terrible. Bum bum. Somehow, I have no idea how, it was constructed in the first days and weeks of my life. I think. Apparently it’s ridiculously hard. Or at least Maja says it is. She thinks it’s really funny. 

Maja:

My nose is soft and moves all over the place, I can make the tip touch my cheek, but Marks. Come on. It doesn’t move. At all. Hard as a stone. And quite big. Stone nose. Iron nose. 

His tongue looks like someone has chopped off maybe an inch or so and tried to sew it back together, so the tip of the tongue is missing. The whole thing is short and still has visible signs of where the stitches were. Honestly, if you just look at him, you won’t notice much of what I’ve been talking about, but I am still impressed by how well he manages to do everything, especially with respect to the many missing teeth, most of them being the upper ones.

Mark:

About those missing teeth. It’s not all gaps and stuff, like a boxer’s missing teeth, or the teeth of someone who’s really badly neglected them. They do all meet in the middle. It’s just that there are certain teeth most people have that I just don’t. Like the two little bunny teeth at the top in the middle. You see, I have no gum there. I just don’t. I know. I’m getting more attractive by the second.

Maja:

Just saying, I find Mark quite handsome. We’ve been discussing some of the drawbacks for a while now, so I thought it ought to be said.

I guess he has thought of the horrific tongue incident many times, but today he, for the first time in a long while, re-lives it once more. I feel honoured and happy that he wants to share his stories with me. It’s also nice to not be the only one that is talking.

London, day four

Tuesday February 23

Maja:

Another day, another good look at the ceiling. There’s really not that much possible to do, when the room is too small to even stand up and stretch in. Not that we don’t try to do that at times. It’s quite refreshing, now that the stresses around me have started to reduce themselves. I can just be here. I don’t have to do anything else. And the view from the window is great. 

For me, it’s not like I have any big purpose for what I am going to do here in London. It’s not like I came here to do anything touristy, or even to work. I’m just here, right now, right here. Without plans, without purpose. It was hard enough to get to where I am right now, and I don’t really fancy going anywhere else.

Mark:

I’m supposed to have a rehearsal/recording session with Sarah today but she gets in touch asking if I wouldn’t mind putting it off for now. No problem. 

Which means me and Maja can just continue as we are. She’s now started speculating that she could be anywhere in the world; all she’s seen for days now is the ceiling of this room, and the inside of the house. She hasn’t even ventured out to the garden yet, or at least not for anything more than a little look. Brazil, we say. Yes. We could well be in Brazil. Why not? As for me, well I’ve not seen much more since she’s been here. The furthest I’ve ventured is out to the shops, so I’ve only been out of the house for around fifteen minutes at a time, and often even less with the most basic shops just right across the road.

Our thoughts are turning more and more towards music and the possibility of her playing with me and Sarah. I admit that Sarah suggested first that Maja play with us and I nixed that idea saying she wasn’t experienced enough, but now I’m starting to think it could be possible; with me and Sarah being a bass only affair, there are all kinds of more simple lines Maja could play below my lines to give more depth to things. At first, we start to talk about rehearsing on our own in the house to have ideas and sections to present to Sarah. This then quickly and seamlessly morphs into, ‘why don’t we do our own thing as well?’ Oh, we really are going and getting excited now, and we start to talk about songwriting and our relevant experiences here. Maja became the main songwriter in Mad Box and I have my own adventures deep in the past, but nevertheless, they are there. Could I be about to start revisiting my songwriting bits again?

 It looks like that could very much be happening. Soon we’re talking about getting started with writing lyrics and wondering what kinds of songs we would write. We’ve been having little silly conversations supposing all kinds of nonsensical scenarios out of nothing. Today Maja starts supposing how you could get someone to love you and we started to think about how that could magically happen, and how a magical object could be developed from that. Before too long we come up with the beanie hat you wear and an idea is born. From that, we have a lyrical concept. Time to get working on it.

Maja:

OK, Mark. Enough crazy talk here. This is crazy. Me, who is just starting out, starting an originals project with you. I’m just not good enough. But it’s not really like there’s anything else happening right now, and I might just be crazy enough to entertain this idea. 

It’s a fun idea, and there’s nothing really that beats lying in bed, joking and writing down the silly thoughts that come out of our jokes. Like, what’ll happen if you put a magical hat on someone, so make them fall in love with you. But it’ll have to be a beanie. In my head I hear the melody of baby love as I sing, Beanie Love. 

Today I also call a couple of my friends in Stockholm to tell them I’m not around anymore and why. They turn out to be very emotional and hard phone calls to make, but nonetheless necessary and good to do. I’m met with sympathy, and albeit happy for that, I feel kind of strange. I’m not used to that kind of behaviour. 

Mark:

Then, how to realise all this? I have my bass and Maja will of course be buying a bass soon, but maybe we need a guitar. Then suddenly it comes to me. ‘I have a guitar. Or at least I think I do.’ I’m sure I bought one especially for songwriting a good while ago, then somehow I left it with Dan. I think. Why the hell I might have done that I have no idea, but I could put a call into him and see if I did and if he still has it.

Now we’ve decided we might actually do something musical together, I take a walk round to the shop and come back with three notebooks. We now have something to get started in. And we do.

I guess this is the point in the story where it could be written that the guy and the girl are in their room all the time just doing drugs. But we don’t do anything like that and know by now that that’s something neither of us is into at all. Yes, alcohol is a drug but in these four days we haven’t even had a drink. Neither have we watched TV. Not even so much as a Youtube video. No music either. Playing or listening. If we have anything you could call a drug it would be just ourselves and being with each other. And we might just both be starting to become addicted.

Maja:

I think there’s a song in that. Addicted to love.

London, day five

Wednesday February 24

Maja:

So I’m married, and that fact makes everything so much harder. When I first got kissed on the porch, the first thought that flew through my mind was, I’m not going to be able to go back. And do I really want to go back to what I have over there? I’ve tried to ignore the fact, and I’m not really ready to take any decision, but I hate even the thought of me cheating. That’s not who I am. Period. So what in the world am I doing? I’m leaving something behind. A marriage. That’s what I have to give up to continue on this path, and I’m not fond of that. It makes me really sad. The only thing I wanted in the beginning was to be myself and make music. And that is leading all the way to this, slowly, slowly but in the end, that’s where all the “you can’t do this” leads to. 

But I can’t think too much about this today. I just can’t handle analysing everything that happened. I just know that I’m falling in love. I want to be with Mark, and I really enjoy talking to him, being with him. Right now, that’s everything I want. I just want to be here. Right here, right now. Is that really that bad?

We’re definitely more than friends now, right?

Mark:

We have no choice. We have to acknowledge that we’re in some kind of relationship. Or that we have something. We have no idea what, but there is definitely a something here. But yes, Maja is married and very much just on a break of which she’s vaguely said would be in the region of two months. When I suggest that she can just go back when she’s ready, if that’s what she ultimately decides to do, she says that with all that’s gone on between us just in these past five days, she can’t go back now. So where does that leave anything?

It might seem like there’s been a whole lot of serious analytical chat going on and that would be right. But in between, sometime right in between, there’s been a whole lot of laughter. I’ve laughed with Maja more and harder than I’ve ever laughed with anyone. And by now we’re also starting to realise that we react the same way to a lot of situations. Some of that Maja knows from reading certain Diary episodes. But also, in all kinds of situations we’ve spoken about and been through over the past six weeks or so, professional and very personal. And of course we’re learning a lot about each other within these four walls and under this ceiling. The biggest of these we’re learning about is the many parallels we have in career trajectories and the breakdowns we both had.

I was a journalist and rose very quickly – once I finally made it in. Journalism is ridiculously hard to break into, to the point that it starts to actually seem impossible. And indeed, most people do give up. I didn’t, although I didn’t get my first break until I had just turned 23. But within a year I had doubled my starting salary, and before I turned 25 I was a magazine editor and foreign correspondent. I carried on for quite a few more years, continuing to progress and loving it loving it loving it. Then, as I approached 30, I realised I was declining physically and mentally on the job until I just simply couldn’t function anymore. A low point came when I was called into a management meeting – really. Me, two editors and an executive – and told in a diplomatic roundabout way that I was slacking and letting myself and the team down. What I kinda remember them actually saying was that if I had some idea of what would work best for me and if readers really liked it, then they would pay me more. The other side of that coin was the hint that what I was currently doing wasn’t worth what they were paying me. I think this could be called a professional intervention. A few weeks later, I was done and out of the media game.

Maja:

It’s interesting to get to know a little bit more about the Mark from before his diaries, and he shares many stories which I listen to intensely. I can’t help but discover a lot of similarities between our professional lives. What’s extremely telling is that we both entered very highly advanced fields, worked and thrived there for years until we ran face first deep into the wall. We both know how it feels to have our head a foot length deep into the wall, not knowing that it was there, and then the inevitable crash that comes afterwards. You don’t realise when you’re well past the point of no return. At least we never did. You go forward, doing everything you used to do, perhaps adding a lot of training to take care of yourself because you notice that you need something. But apart from that, completely oblivious of the damage your stressed out lifestyle is inflicting you. 

Mark:

Oh yes. The training thing. When I first realised I was deep tired, I was already training twice a week with a semi professional rugby team, plus playing in their third team. But my response to being tired? Not cut back on training. No. It was just obvious to me that I was tired because I wasn’t fit enough. So the response – more training. Maja laughs quite bitterly when I mention this.

Maja:

I never knew until it was too late. Neither did he. I continued to work, train, do band rehearsals and meet friends, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. I planned every minute of my time, trained 11 hours a week, band rehearsal maybe 7 to 10 hours a week and I was home after 10 pm almost every day and out around 7 am. All the time. I was emotionally available to anyone needing to talk, and took good care about everything. On top of all this I always did my absolute best at work, and had a top salary for my age, with huge responsibilities and a good reputation.

It’s special to talk about this with someone that experienced the same things, albeit in a slightly different way. For him this was years ago, and he found his way forward through yoga and music. He never returned to journalism. For me, this is right here and right now.

I’m still stumbling. 

Mark:

I hear today that the big story in the Diaries that really resonated with Maja, and which confirmed her thought once and for all that we shared very similar wavelengths, was the day me and Paul rescued the young girl who was lost, desperate and on the verge of being homeless at Euston Station, one of the very last places in London you would want to be a young girl who is lost, desperate and on the verge of being homeless. As she read that, she realised that she would have acted the same way as I did pretty much from the beginning to the end of the episode. That is, I was initially cynical yet open minded, which gave way to acceptance, openness and help, and then I stayed with her with Paul until it was just me and her for the last hour or so until I finally saw on a train to the house of a relative of hers who I’d been in communication with since the first few minutes of the encounter.

Maja:

For me this story proved an important judgement of character. I actually have a similar story, helping an eight month pregnant lady asking people for help in a supermarket. I still think of her at times, wondering how she’s doing. I hope she’s well. I can’t remember the exact circumstances but she’d been at a house viewing, forgot her wallet somewhere so she couldn’t take the train home to another town, her phone ran out of battery and she was hungry. I was sceptical at first, but then realised her situation, we got into my car and drove home, and I gave her some leftovers from the night before, let her rest and charge her phone and gave her money for the train. She was immensely grateful, and I felt a little bit guilty for not believing her at once. Everyone she asked looked the other way. I was also so sceptical I was almost not helping her. I’m really glad I did though. So reading this story about Mark, really made me feel like he reacted in the same way as me. It felt honest, but not riskful. Wise in a way. This little story he posted ages ago, made me feel a little bit like this is a nice guy. Probably trustworthy.

Mark:

Since Maja arrived, we haven’t left the tiny room together for any sustained period of time. Most of it has been spent in there with just bathroom and shower breaks, punctuated only by trips to the kitchen for food. But even there, eating has been ridiculously sporadic and mostly still taken place in the bedroom. The weather hasn’t been great to be fair, but it’s sunny today and Maja really wants us both to go out and sit in the sun. So out we go and join Sam, who Maja joyously chats with. There have been one or two chats with Sam and Cris and when it’s been one on one with Maja and one of those guys, I’ve pretty much stayed out of it, allowing them to get to know each other without my input. I’ve spoken enough to all of them. It’s the same now as we lie back in the deckchairs and take in the February sun. This is something Maja is really having a wonderfully tough time to process. February sun. Back in Sweden they’re still up to their waists in snow and battling temperatures touching minus double figures. Now, here she is wearing sunglasses and the bare minimum of clothes, reclining in what she was jokingly referring to last week as tropical London. Well today it really is something of a dictionary definition of tropical as far as anyone in Sweden would be concerned. 

Cris joins us now and it’s clear that him and Sam have been starting to come to the same conclusions the two of us have been coming to, with Cris revelling in jokes about the lovebirds. At this, me and Maja just look at each other and laugh. The whole scene gives way to a really warm garden hang with us providing the tunes from Maja’s phone for an early summer soundtrack.

Maja:

It’s been nice hanging out with Sam and Cris a little bit as well. I like them both, they’re great. I don’t think Sam is out to be good friends, with him a feel more of a nice flatmate vibe. Which is very nice as well. I’m a bit more curious about Cris, who is the singer of one of the bands Mark plays with at times -The Wild Child. He is teasing us a little bit, calling us birdy birds. But he is rarely at home, and I look forward to getting to know him better at a later stage.

Mark:

Inspired by the music, when we’re left alone, Maja turns the conversation round to basses and suggests we start looking at what she could buy. For the first time, we’re looking at the same screen as Maja starts thinking about what her next bass could look like. Then she surprises me by asking, ‘What kind of bass would you like to play? I’m now thinking of buying two.’ Her reasoning is that if this is the case, she might as well buy at least one I’d really like to play. I’m good with just my Washburn to be fair, but I’m happy to give my input here and start to think about something I would also like to work with.

It takes a while, but we finally settle on a Lakland and a Sadowsky and both pretty much mid to top of the range. Of course we’ve not been able to try either out, but they look beautiful, very classy, and it goes without saying that the actual quality of them will be right up there with the best. Will they be nice to play? Impossible to say but I’m sure we’ll get used to whatever little differences we find. Maja hits the buy button with complete confidence. With names like these, you really can’t go wrong. Worst case, she reasons, if she doesn’t like one, she’ll at least like the other. Then I can make myself like the other one.

Maja: 

Before I was going to England, I played a lot of bass and was just starting to get serious with it, so I decided that I would buy one to have while I was here. I had kind of decided on a decent budget for this already. Since last autumn I’ve been eyeing the Fender professional II J bass. I played it in the music store, and it was just something else. So I thought that I could use the money for that bass to buy something in London instead and bring that one back with me later. 

So we start to look at music shops, and I realise that instead of buying one bass, I can afford two decent basses, so I could just buy one that Mark would like to play as well. Maybe. Looking around I find a Shadowsky and a Lakland that look really nice, so I decide to go for both. Since I can’t test them in the store because of covid, I could at least send one of them back if I’m unlucky. But they are great brands, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.

London, day six

London, day six

Thursday February 25

Maja:

Mark is supposed to have his rehearsal with Sarah today. Apart from that, we haven’t been playing much music since I got to London, which means it’s time to start now. Mark has a riff he’s been playing with Sarah that he needs to remember for today. It’s a simple enough riff; it’s just that internalising the phrasing is kind of hard. So is there a better way to internalise new melodies than to teach them to someone? That’s the thought when he starts teaching me the riff for the song white rabbit. It’s simple enough, but the repetitiveness of it makes it easy to get lost in it, and that is why he needed to rehearse it some more. And for me, it’s quite amazing to be able to be of any kind of help. And I finally get to try the iconic Washburn that Mark has been using for all these years. It plays beautifully. It feels so special to have it in my hands. The bass that’s been accompanying him for all these adventures during all these years. Playing it, I feel more connected to Mark.

Mark:

Yeah. That White Rabbit thing. No idea why. It has just refused to stick in my head. This is where listening, listening, listening comes in but it still refuses to stick. No panic. I’ll get there.

In other, perhaps more significant news, Maja stops me cold and short today when, somewhere in the middle of chatting, she asks me if I’d be up for having kids. ‘I’m not saying I want them now,’ she says, ‘but if I’m to start a relationship with anyone, I have to know this is something that could be a possibility in the future.’ I get it. But the crazy thing is, not only do I not think there’s anything strange about the question, but I say yes straight away. Again, not now. But sometime in the future. I’m saying I would not rule it out and that’s the closest I’ve ever come to even entertaining the idea in my whole life. Since I was little more than a child I’ve said that I would never have kids and I’ve never come close to changing that viewpoint. Until now. And it feels totally natural to say that. What the hell is happening here? Apart from anything else, yesterday we were talking about not knowing where we were, and now we’re talking about kids. And a relationship? Well, this is certainly a something.

Maja:

I’m enjoying the time we spend together, talking, reflecting on life. And before any commitment, I’d like to know how Mark stands on some of the big things of life. Like kids. It’s only natural I ask. I’m relieved when the answer of yes comes back, with full confidence. It’s just such a shame that we don’t have that much longer to talk about it, because it is time for Mark’s rehearsal. Good luck.

Mark:

But, more than just a rehearsal with Sarah, today is the day we’re going to do a full recording of our show to see what we have and maybe have a template to start to show people.

As usual I’m taking all my gear including amp, so Sarah is coming here to help me carry it to hers. Yes I can manage it all myself but this is a nice little regular gesture from her and it does make things a little easier. But she has a slight ulterior motive this time which she has not been at all shy in hiding. She wants to meet Maja. But Maja very much wants to meet her as well. Afterall, this will be her first encounter with any of my London music friends, and so her first real encounter with the actual scene.

Maja:

I’m a bit excited. I haven’t really met any people since I arrived apart from Mark and our flatmates, and rightly so because of the quarantine. I’m still allowed to be on our premises, which includes our front porch, so I’ll be OK to go out and say hello to Sarah. When I hear the knock on our door, I follow Mark upstairs, getting all nervous. Mark opens the door with a key, wait what, he uses a KEY??? I don’t have a key yet. Does that mean I can’t get out? What kind of house needs a key to get out? This is all very strange.

Mark:

Oh yeah. I’ve forgotten to tell Maja about this key thing, or to get one cut for her. What if she really does need to get out for any reason? But even apart from that, without a key, she’s not just willingly in quarantine, she really is actually locked in. Oops. I’ve accidentally kidnapped Maja.

Maja:

Outside, a very excited and giddy girl awaits us. She looks so excited to see us. Like a little child she is bubbling and bouncing with excitement. Hello hello hello. I get all shy and try to act normal, say hello and everything. It’s obvious that she wants to say hello with a hug, and who am I to resist? We do some small talk, and then it’s time for them to leave for rehearsal. Both say goodbye and they start to leave. Wait what? Just like that?

‘Hey Mark, can you come here?’ Mark comes back to the door, I grab him by the collar and kiss him. See you later. I can see how he turns all flustered and red as he says ‘see you soon’ and locks the door.

I walk downstairs, to my room. I’m quite tired so I take a nap, but I can’t stop thinking: What kind of house needs a key to get out of???

I know I’m gonna get one, it’s just been forgotten since I’m self isolating. But still, what if a fire started or something? I just don’t get it, what about guests? You lock them in with you? What if you were creepy and the guest wanted to leave, they need to ask permission from the host that they’re trying to get away from. This is just not OK. How can they build houses like this? Is it only this house that is like this, maybe it’s the landlord that’s exceptionally cheap and hasn’t installed a proper door? But still.

Why do you have to lock people inside the house?

Mark:

These are all very good points and I have never thought about any of them, although it’s quite normal to have doors like this in the UK. Don’t ask me why, it just is. As a result of this system I’ve found myself locked in the house plenty of times, when I’ve been just about to leave and not able to find my key. And yes, then managing to make myself late, or even very late for whatever it was I was about to leave for. Very relevant digression. I once stayed over at a friend’s house – the house had a double lock so it could be locked from the outside but could still be opened from the inside. Unless someone actually did lock it from the outside, which my friend kindly didn’t do when they went to work. However, the housemates didn’t know I was in the house so yes. When they went to work, the door got locked from the outside. Cue a very embarrassed Mark having to call the office to say he can’t get to work today as he’s managed to get himself locked in a friend’s house and can’t go anywhere until someone comes back. Oh well. It was a nice day off.

I’m all packed and ready by around 5pm when there’s a knock at the door. ‘She’s here,’ says Maja. Indeed she is. We walk upstairs, I open the door, and Sarah’s standing there, all totally expectantly. ‘Are we hugging?’ We are. With that, the two of them are out in the small front garden hugging and talking excitedly like sisters who haven’t seen each other for too long. I leave them to it and go and get the rest of my stuff from downstairs. When I come back up, they’re still there and still both talking a hundred miles an hour. Finally, Sarah says, ‘OK Mark, are we ready to go?’ Yep. Once again, Maja tells her that but for the quarantine rules she’d love to be coming along. Next time, Sarah promises. Yes, of course. Next time. I’m kinda playing it cool with Maja, not wanting to be too ‘public’ in front of Sarah, so I just say goodbye and Maja goes into the house and we start to walk away. Then Maja calls me back to the front door. Oh, OK. I go back and she gives me a goodbye kiss right there in front of Sarah who, as I turn back, is looking on open mouthed, in stunned, delighted shock. ‘No,’ she says. ‘No.’ Yes. With that she goes off on a celebratory skip down the road before returning, giggling like someone 20 years younger, to help me with the gear.

On the way I tell Sarah how me and Maja have been talking and I think we could incorporate her into the act in a way I didn’t think was possible a few days ago. Sarah is well up for the idea, saying it is much more about attitude than playing, and that if Maja has one thing, based on what she’s just seen for the first time, it’s attitude. ‘And you guys are just right together,’ she says. ‘I could see that straight away. Now, if you can take that chemistry and turn it into music, you have gold, no matter what levels of ability you’re talking about.’ That sets off a spark in me. Yes, this really could be something to think about. And with that, me and Maja have a project. And definitely something to talk about later.

But oh dear. With everything that’s been going on over the past week, I am woefully underprepared for today’s session in which we intend to do a full, recorded rehearsal of our short show, which is five songs all segued into each other. I’ve barely touched the bass all week. I had a tiny little play today just as I realised this, just to make sure I could remember the rhythmic parts of what we’re doing and how each song goes into the next one. But as for the solo I have to do, I am way out of practice and am just going to have to make sure I’m warmed up, and fall back on what I’ve actually come up with rather than trying to improvise a bunch of cool stuff around it which is what I usually do. This is not a time for risk-taking in my playing. While I’m on the subject of practice, I really should address my Players Path journey, or lack of. Yes, I got right to the end of level nine, with a video for every track. But what I really wanted to do, right from the beginning of it all, was to record a single video of all the tracks, kind of like making a recording of a live show. To do that, I was studying some of the theory related to soloing and improvising within them and wanted to nudge myself onto that next level before moving onto this stage of the project. I had one tiny window to record that, a Sunday a few weeks ago when I had a few hours alone in the house when I could have got this done. But I hesitated, thinking I still wanted to check out just a few things before being ready. Then all this started kicking off and I’ve not fully been back to it since. Now by this stage, I’m really out of practice with it all. Gone totally backwards to be fair. Forget nuances, I would need to totally relearn whole sections of songs before even thinking of details of theory within them. As such, this project has to be declared on ice for now. But hey, I still managed to record a video for every song.

As it is, when we get to working with Sarah today, I’m barely holding on to what I can play with her stuff. But that’s alright. Sarah isn’t in great shape preparationwise either which lets me off the hook actually. It looks like we’ve both let ourselves go a bit, but we do each have a lot of experience and technique to fall back on. All this means it takes six or seven takes to get a full one take recording of our show. In between we just go with it and have a laugh at our own little hiccups and mistakes which we pretty much equally share which means I can feel a little less guilty at not being as prepared as I would normally be. Of this, Sarah is totally understanding given what’s been going on this week. More, she loves it and loves the story of where we are.

Just as I’m about to leave, I realise Sarah has an acoustic guitar. Of course she does. We’ve been using it to get a few concepts together, and there it is in the corner of the room. Could I possibly borrow that please for me and Maja to work on? Of course you can, she says. Brilliant. With that, we’re sorted.

Maja:

I fall asleep soon after Mark leaves for rehearsal, and I really need the rest. It’s wonderful to spend time together, and I’d rather do that, but if I’m alone, I want to sleep. All of a sudden, I’m woken up by someone walking down the stairs, and opening my door. Yes! He’s home! I sit up as quickly as possible and say hello.

In his hand he has a guitar, I wasn’t expecting that. Cool. I guess he plays the guitar, and has a plan about this, but I don’t know that much about this yet. But it’s always nice to have a guitar around, especially for songwriting.

Mark:

Oh yeah. Maja, I can play guitar.

Maja:

We soon make ourselves comfortable and continue talking. I’m not that good of a musician and I know that Mark pretty much only ever works with very skilled musicians. So when he opens up with the possibility of me working with him and Sarah, I’m shocked. You can’t mean me, joining you guys? Doing what? What? I was kinda expecting to maybe be able to join to watch a rehearsal, but really, I wasn’t even expecting that. I’m a beginner, and I play bass, the same instrument as Mark. So what am I going to do? Mark has been thinking that we both could play bass, he has some kind of concept that he is starting to build up in his mind. A concept that wouldn’t be too advanced for me and would support what he’s doing. Amazing.

Apparently, I’ve moved to London, without any set plans, and within a week I’ve joined my first band. I could even say my first professional band, since we’re planning shows and Mark and Sarah are, well, professionals. Just, wow. Or, wowsers, as Sarah would say.

I start to talk, going on about why one would go to London. No-one would go to London like I did, not after Brexit, not during Covid. I just continue to talk, just putting words on the thoughts that come out of my head, like a stream of running water. 

Mark:

It’s with some excitement that I return home and bring the guitar into the room to show Maja. And with it, the news that Sarah loves the idea of the two of us playing together with her. So it’s game on. We’re starting to reach whole new levels now. We’re talking about having kids, playing together in the same band, and also thinking about our own style and songs, which we can write on this new guitar we now have. Maja came to London to get away from something. Now she’s starting to feel she also went towards something. ‘What do you come to London for?’ she asks. ‘For the music scene, which doesn’t exist, but here we are talking about music. There are so many other reasons to come. But I just didn’t expect to come to London and fall in love.’

What now?

She continues talking, musing quietly to herself really, with me as an incidental audience. But I’ve zoned out. I’m thinking about what she’s just said and thinking how I should respond. Afterall, we’ve spoken about this being something of a relationship, and just a few hours ago we were talking about having kids together, or at least whether or not we were open to the possibility of it. And all the while we’ve been becoming closer and closer in every other way. As friends too. As close friends. As even best friends. Yeah. That’s how it feels, with the depth with which we talk, and the highs as well. Filled with the kind of joyful spontaneous shared laughter I’ve experienced with very few people before, or maybe even no-one before. And she’s said the word now. I think it’s my turn. She’s still talking but for once I’m not fully listening. She can see that because she comes to a faltering stop around the same time as I interject saying, ‘Maja…’ ‘Yes?’

‘I love you.’ A breath, a pause. It’s out there now.

‘I love you too.’

Maja:

All of a sudden, when my thoughts and words finally slow down Mark says:

‘I love you’.

I look him in the eyes, wondering where this came from all of a sudden. I stop to take a breath, to allow myself to think for a second. 

‘I love you too’.

Mark:

No more words are needed. No more words are spoken. This is almost too much to take. It kind of really is too much to take. I think it’s really happened. The magical, elusive formula, the ideal of countless books, movies and songs. I’m in love with my best friend. And she’s in love with me. To hopelessly paraphrase and misquote the movie Notting Hill, ‘There are billions of people in the world and you’re sent out to find just one of them that you love. Not only that, but they have to love you back. The odds of that are millions to one.’ Yes. It really is something that seems impossible. Now, here we are. To steal again, this time from Jason Mraz: ‘Lucky I’m in love with my best friend/lucky to have been where we have been/lucky to be coming home again.’ As we settle blissfully into our new reality, I play this song for Maja. And for me. For us. And yes, as it plays, I cry in front of her for the second time. Oh Mark, pull yourself together.

Then reality comes back to us. ‘Mark,’ she says. ‘Yes?’ ‘You do realise I’m still married?’ ‘Yes.’ And I have Jenn, immediately below us downstairs. Different situation but even so. Maja stops and ponders all this, then explodes in a whisper. ‘Boy, we’re in trouble.’

London, day seven

Friday February 26

Maja:

Why can’t things be simple? Just why can’t I just simply be able to do what I want? What we want? There’s too many whys here, and it just doesn’t add up. 

Mark:

Why isn’t it spelt whies? Sorry. Not helpful. Carry on Maja.

Maja:

I just can’t get what I want in a simple way. Why does it have to start off with an impossible list? Why do I have to navigate a way through the impossible, just to be where I want with who I want? Yes, I’m complaining a lot right now, but it really feels like this. I can’t even stay here in this miniscule room for long, because of Brexit. Why does it have to be so complicated? 

I’m feeling a tiny bit of whelm here.

So, what do I have to do? 

Get a divorce, sell my apartment in Sweden, fix a new home for my dog Tommy, get a job in London, or some remote job at least, get an apartment in London, get a visa to be able to be here because of the stupid cursed Brexit. All of this, and I don’t even know where to start with the first one. How should I even approach that? How should I even think about that? I mean, I love him so much still, but I can’t be with him now. How do you even get a divorce? How am I going to be able to say that to him? How am I going to be OK? I don’t know how I should handle this. 

I just don’t know. 

This is impossible.

Mark:

Very quickly we’re realising that we’re going to need a bigger boat. We really have to take a pragmatic approach to what’s going on here.

To start with that, we make a list of what we need to overcome. We quickly call this the Impossible List. It looks like this.

Divorce, which means she’s going to have to make the actual call to say she wants one, and then have it granted and administered.

Organising/selling the apartment in Sweden

Getting a job in London, or some remote working job

Getting an apartment London, and lockdown London at that

Visa to be able to stay in post Brexit Britain, which will probably be dependent on whatever job she’s able to get, and even then, it will be a huge ask.

Tommy – her dog. What will happen with him?

For my part, I have to deal with Jenn and how to break that, while still living here for the time being. Oh, mini reveal of what you probably already knew if you’d thought about it. Me and Jenn are still sharing a room. Yes I’m with Maja a lot, and in her room a lot, but the big downstairs room is still mine and Jenn’s. In any case, the three of us are all still living in the same house. Awkward? You said that. I couldn’t possibly comment.

Maja:

Yeah, come on. The whole Jenn situation is really not helpful right now either. How are you going to square this circle Mark? I mean, just how?

Mark:

If that’s going to change, I have to figure out how the hell I’m going to make enough to pay my share of an apartment in London, with deposit. And if and when the move does happen, I also have to do the right thing which means, on top of that, keeping up my share of rent payments on the room here for at least a reasonable amount of time whatever that means. 

In this area, and anywhere else this central really, property is truly expensive; in many parts of the country you could get a two bedroom apartment for the price of the double room in this house. A one bedroom apartment, which is what we’re looking for, costs around twice the price of the room I’m currently paying for.

On top of all this, I’m currently on furlough. From a bar job. And get a new job? That could pay what all the above would require? Here? In lockdown, almost totally furloughed London? Don’t think so. Which means we have to come up with an idea or ideas for how I could make more money to help fund the new reality and whatever comes next.

Combining our situations, pick any one of the above and you’re looking at an insurmountable problem. As an entire list, it’s impossible. Just impossible. There’s no other word for it. We are totally deluding ourselves if we think we’re ever going to get that lot ticked off and somehow sail into the sunset. But amazingly, we manage to solve all the problems almost instantly. We do this by refusing to think about them. Then we realise that, while this might feel nice, it really isn’t a solution that’s sustainable for any amount of time.

The first real biggie is the possibility of a divorce. It’s huge that the situation has even come to this, but it is very much acknowledged that this would have been on the cards even without me, or anyone else, on Maja’s horizon; even if, instead of coming here, she’d decided to go to a Caribbean island on her own to have her much needed break and to get her head around everything, she probably still would have come to the conclusion that the marriage was over and that she would need to move ahead with that. So no, I don’t feel responsible for that and no, I don’t believe that anything we have done or said has precipitated that. Nevertheless, it is something that will have to be addressed and something that will ultimately have to happen. Along with the divorce is the attached inevitability of her having to sell their apartment in Sweden and get all that stuff organised; of course, the mere fact an apartment exists means there are a lot of things in it. Where the hell do you start with that? From here?

And if Maja is to divorce and stay here, we need to think about what that means. First, it means getting out of this room and into a place of our own. But she still has another three days of quarantine anyway, and today. So four days. Basically, she’s only just over halfway through quarantine and is thinking of not just being able to go outside, but of moving from here totally. Which brings us onto the next problem of how the hell to get an apartment in London and how the hell to pay for it. And to do that, I really need to up my financial game, and how the hell am I going to do that? In Covid, lockdown London? As it is, right now I’m on furlough so I have some kind of income, but nowhere near what you would need to pay for half a whole apartment, plus deposit, plus keep up my moral obligations here for a little while. It’s just possible, with everywhere being closed anyway, that we could look for a place a little further out, and so a little cheaper than the zone two we’re currently in which is touching distance from central London and a place I totally love. But the fact would still remain that I would need to find a considerably better income than I’m pulling in now. How?

And even if we achieve all this, Maja still has to be able to stay in the UK to make any of it workable. Pre Brexit that would have been no big deal. She’s European, UK was in the EU, not even a discussion. Live and work here, just like I went to Madrid to live and work all that time ago. Fully legally, with Spanish papers organised and everything. Almost did the same in Hamburg with Drunken Monkees; they even have a welcome centre there with all the bureaucratic offices under the same roof. Imagine. But all that’s changed now. All Maja has, and all she can have, is a travel visa which is valid for six months. Which means she can stay for at least that long. But she can’t work. How the hell are we going to square that circle? And all the other circles? All we have right now is a very very bad game of Tetris where nothing fits but it’s all coming down anyway.

But onto immediate issues, I have to tell Jenn where me and Maja are right now. She’s out when the time comes for this, so I arrange to meet her nearby when she’s on her way back. As soon as I make the phone call she knows something bad is coming and bitterly thanks me for ruining her day which she says was already a struggle because she’s been worried about what’s been going on here. Yes, we’re just friends, but friends who have lived together and supported each other for a long time and she can see that we are now nudging at the end of an era. We meet in the empty beer garden in The Vine across the road from the house. I don’t want to drag anything out so I just say it as soon as I can. ‘Me and Maja said the three words last night.’ I would like to say Jenn takes it well. She really doesn’t. But she does say this has come as no surprise to her as she’s been well aware of how we’ve been since Maja arrived. Bottom line, she asks to be given a few days to a week to process this new reality and then to maybe come round to accepting the situation. In that time, she says, I shouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t speak to either of us. Fair enough. 

Above I mentioned the fact that I have a bar job which I’m currently being paid for not doing. That reminded me that a certain amount of context had been missing from The Diaries, at least for people not familiar with Mark’s Diaries, which is my thing before me and Maja ended our respective diaries and started this thing. 

Practically my whole life in London, since I moved here from Madrid in October 2014, has revolved around bars, with my income pretty evenly split between payments from gigs in them and earnings from working in them. Governmental stay at home advice saw bars, among other businesses, being forced to close. With that, wages, or at least a good part of them, continued through furlough payments based, in my bar’s case, on average earnings over a given period before furlough began. Which has meant that I’ve been able to keep the wheels turning quite OK. It also meant that I was totally available for all Skype calls with Maja when we first started communicating with the whole website/bass mentor trade off thing, and then it meant I was able to be available for phone calls anytime day or night when the wheels of her life started wobbling. And it means I’m 100 per cent around now as well as she settles into the house and into London. So yes, Covid and it’s societal effects have been terrible. But for me and Maja, it’s really kind of worked in our favour. You really could say we are children of Covid. Or at the very least, if it hadn’t happened, for want of a better expression, we wouldn’t have even made it to first base. I wouldn’t have even been able to mentor her, or receive her website help, to the extent that I did, which, as you know, is how we really started communicating in the first place.

Maja:

Yes. If it hadn’t been for Covid, a lot of things that happened to me just wouldn’t have happened. It might even have been a trigger for why my marriage started to break down as well. And I certainly would never have picked up an instrument if it wasn’t for Covid. So then I would never have started a band, never joined SBL, never found Mark’s diaries, never started my own diaries, never contacted Mark. And I would probably live my whole life never even wanting to go to London, nevermind live there. I mean, why would I ever want to go there? I have my job, I work as a cloud/computer engineer, my training is way too many hours a week – I train aikido. If I was to do something crazy and new it would probably be going to an Aikido training camp in Japan for a year or so. But that never happened.

When the world came crashing down around me, so did everything that I knew.

London, days eight and nine

London, day eight

Saturday February 27

Mark:

The basses arrive, along with a few accessories that were also ordered and it’s like Christmas. They look as beautiful as imagined. But all of a sudden, the tiny room has got even tinier. That’s OK. It’s for the sake of new basses. However, when we each have a little play of them, it’s fair to say we’re a little underwhelmed. This unpacking business has taken quite a while so we put our reservations down to high expectations and decide to leave them for now and come back to them when we have some time to really have a good look. Afterall, it could just be setup issues which could be easily fixed but which need a little more consideration that we’re really willing to give right now.

Instead, for the first time since we met we do something called TV watching. It’s kinda fun and we don’t do it for a great amount of time. There’s some discussion about what exactly to watch and we settle on Maja showing me Melodifestivalen. This is Sweden’s show to decide what their entry to Eurovision will be and it runs over several episodes and kinda looks like the final stages of The X Factor or American Idol. And it’s all set in Stockholm with location links from the presenters, which gives her a little revisit to her city and an opportunity to give me a virtual introduction. As we see the presenters in various locations, she talks to me a little about the sights, most notably those of Gamla Stan, the historic old part of the city.

Maja:

It’s fun to be able to introduce some things from my country to Mark. And if there’s one thing we both enjoy, it’s music. So why not take the opportunity to watch something live from Sweden, which encapsulates the best and worst of Sweden in the same short TV program without having to focus on really watching it? And we can have our own little guessing game. Perfect for tonight. 

Mark:

But mostly we concentrate on the songs and, as with all other things Eurovision, have a great time making our own selections about who should be going through and who should be going home. And also with all things Eurovision, we have great fun seeing our favourite selections completely ignored while songs we thought were total duds get the go ahead. Oh well. Songs eh? Everyone’s an expert and no-one knows anything. In fact, Ireland’s top music TV and radio personality Dave Fanning once spoke to me about the minefield of trying to gauge if a song is any good or not, saying, ‘No-one knows anything. There are no geniuses in this game.’

London, Day nine

Sunday February 28

Mark:

The day before the last day of Maja’s quarantine and excitement is mounting at her finally being able to get out and about. Out to see London, maybe out to see a friend or two of mine, because outdoor meetings of small groups is allowed. And of course, the possibility of the two of us getting out to rehearsals at Sarah’s. 

Maja:

I’m way too excited about this. I’ve not seen anything of this new country that I am currently residing in. Not anything apart from the calm neighbourhoodly view from my window. My feet are itching to be used. The weather’s been mockingly nice these last couple of days with the air bringing me a delightful spring taste. How will I manage to stay put during these last couple of days? Maja. Keep. Calm. You will get out. Soon. 

Mark:

But also, with Maja still not being able to go out, the priority is to really have a look at these basses and to see if we hadn’t been too harsh with first impressions. I’d had a look at the Lakland and Maja had mainly concentrated on the Sadowsky, but I think there’s been just a little bit of not really wanting to know because we didn’t want to have to admit the reality. But we have a look now and quickly conclude the truth after the excitement of New Bass(es) Day. These are objectively terrible. Not that we don’t like the setups or feels, but they are actually bad and should never have left the factory, let alone the shop. Both are full of fretbuzz for a start and no amount of tinkering with the action of either solves this problem. Then, the Sadowski’s frets, all the way down, protrude sharply to the side, meaning any playing up and down the fretboard would start to cut your hands apart. So no. Unplayable. The Lakland has similar issues and one of the screws in the body is rusty. Yes, actually rusty. If that’s what it looks like on the outside, what the hell is going on on the inside? No, we have no confidence in these basses at all. There are little physical alterations we could make to both, including truss rod adjustment, to realign the neck and eliminate fretbuzz, but if any adjustment doesn’t work, especially anything like attempting to file down frets, no refund would be issued as it would be argued that the basses had been physically meddled with. So they just have to go back. And not for resetups either. No. Nothing but a full refund will do. This particular shop will not be getting repeat custom from these quarters. 

Maja:

These new basses are just a disappointment. I can’t believe how bad they are. I thought buying two would reduce the risk of this so we would at least end up with one that we liked, but this is just ridiculous. Beyond.

London, days 10 and 11

Day 10

Monday March 1

Mark:

On the phone to the shop and very little resistance is met. They will send a van to pick up the basses and, once they’re happy we’ve not damaged them in any way, a full refund will be issued. OK. Fair enough.

We ‘celebrate’ Maja’s last night of quarantine and anticipate tomorrow’s London odyssey by ordering in pizza and going for what has become a real treat. Takeout cocktail bags from Ladies And Gents, the underground toilet cocktail bar in Ktown. Basically, they give you six cocktail measures in a large sealed plastic bag, and in another bag, you have the little bits of dried, seasoned fruit they would put in them. Then at home you put them together yourself. This is all a perfect accompaniment for our second attempt at watching any kind of TV – Maja’s favourite – Doctor Who. We get 20 minutes in and give up. It seems TV really doesn’t work for us.

Maja:

I’ve really, really looked forward to watching Doctor Who, because I haven’t been able to watch the latest seasons in Sweden. No streaming service owns the rights to it in Sweden right now. So when it comes to things I want to watch here, Doctor Who is my highest priority. But we just can’t seem to focus. 

Come on Mark. You’re just too much fun to be with. How are we ever going to get anything done?

Day 11

Tuesday March 2

Maja:

What a beautiful day. At least I think so, I haven’t really been able to compare the days to anything, being in self isolation since arrival. I wake up energetic and positive, sending a text to Mark, “Good morning, I’m up now!”. He is already awake waiting on me. Today is the day we’ve been looking forward to, it’s the day of the non-quarantine life starting! I’m quick about showering and getting dressed, since I really wish to get out as soon as I possibly can. And I am going to experience London today.

Shoes are located, and they almost look dusty from not having been used in ages. Or as dusty objects untouched for 10 days get. 

  • Mark, I’m ready to go now!
  • How do you feel, for your first London walk?
  • It’s amazing. Come on, let’s go now!!!

I got my key a couple of days ago, and now for the first time I walk up the staircase and put the key in the keyhole and open up the door to lockdown London. My London. My mood rises even higher as I step out the door, and take a deep breath of the outside air. It tastes like freedom. I grab Mark by the hand, use my other arm to point in a vague direction of the town.

  • Today, I want to go in that direction.
  • Sure, today, you lead the way.

I’ve never been in London, and don’t even have the slightest of concept of where things are, but that doesn’t matter. When I get to a new place, I like to just wander and see things as they come. I’ve done it so many times, in cities all over the world, at times alone, at times with someone else. One of my favorite things to do as a tourist is to go on the underground to a station somewhere and when I get up from the station I just go in whatever direction seems the most interesting. One thing I am careful with doing this, is not to read any direction signs or definately not any maps, since that is going to reduce the amount of surprises I get. If you are going to do the touristing in a Maja way, avoid maps and signs and just go. I recommend it, you might find something you otherwise would never find if you only go for the big attractions. But if you do it like this, you might miss all of the big attractions though. 

So off me and Mark go. In that direction. It is sunny but cold outside, a wonderful spring day. We find ourselves getting back to the Kentish Town area, where a lot of people are walking around. Many of them wear face masks. I find Kentish Town a bit too busy and crowded. And it is all filled with strange people. People who look old. And scary. I’m not that fond of the place, and I can’t really understand the depth of the wrinkles in people’s faces. How can they look so worn out and old?

We walk into Kentish town, where there is this huge bridge, and I take a sharp left turn, walking onto a smaller, calmer street. It’s nice to walk in the calmer areas and I am fond of how the air feels a little bit easier to breathe and there aren’t as many strange people to look at anymore. Being in crowds makes me feel a little bit suffocated, especially right now. So it is perfect that I am experiencing lockdown London, and not full on tourist London. I am needing a little time to adapt. 

The town has turned into a little cute residential area, where just after walking a little while I can see Mark shine up like a little excited tomato. 

  • This is the first real apartment I lived in when I moved to London. 

He points me to an apartment complex. It’s cool that the first place I manage to find is his first apartment. And it isn’t really in a place you pass by that often. Mark stops by the local store next to the apartment to buy some fizzy water. I wait outside not to crowd the store, and as I peek in I can see him searching for something. It takes quite a while but soon enough he comes out with 2 bottles of fizzy water and some chocolate. Galaxy coins in a bag. I love that chocolate, Galaxy. It has rapidly become my new favorite chocolate. And he also brought us a crunchie bar. 

  • I know this chocolate! My friend bought it for me once, when I was young. It’s really good and tastes like caramel, right? I saw you looking around in the store a lot, what did you search for?
  • Oh, they didn’t have it. I’m going to buy it for you later. 

I’m happy with what we got and enjoy my chocolate and fizzy water breakfast, continuing down the road to wherever. 

We walk around a lot of smaller residential areas as I keep turning around at unpredictable times, but I think we are getting ourselves closer to London. Mark has promised me that he won’t tell me any directions. Today it is I who takes him around London, not the other way around. We get to a little open cafe where they have moved the cashier to the entrance door, so you are able to buy a drink for take away. I buy myself a latte and Mark goes for tea, of course. Like the incurable Englishman he is. 

Mark:

While we’re choosing and paying for our drinks, I have a little casual chat with the staff. Just the kind of little pleasant exchanges that happen in places like this. And I tell them we’re off out experiencing Maja’s first day in London and that this is her first coffee shop. As we walk away, Maja again reacts to this. ‘You really do talk to each other here,’ she says. Yes we do. I guess it’s in these little differences that you know you’re in another country. That and the bridge right in front of us which has ‘CAMDEN TOWN’ painted all over it.

Maja:

We take our drinks and continue along, and I see Mark kind of squeaking when he realises where we are. I lead us on a little road that doesn’t look that special, but on the left side of the road there is a little shop that Mark takes interest in. I go closer and realise I’ve found my way to the bass gallery. The famous bass gallery is just here. In front of me. When I’m just casually walking around, expecting to find nothing. Wow. Just amazing. It is closed of course, we’re in lockdown London, there are no stores open here. Expect pharmacies and food stores. We stand outside the store for a while, pointing at the different basses that we’ve looked at online. I really wish the place was open. Oh well, there’s no point in hanging around here for too long. We continue along, into Camden Town. 

Camden Town, oh my what a place, and I have BigNIC to show me around. BigNIC stands for, Big Name In Camden. 

Mark:

I was given this very flattering name in my first year in London by the bar staff at The Oxford. 

Maja:

He is known in every bar, every club. The kind of guy that just can go anywhere and always have people to talk to. Mark really knows his way around here. The town of the crazies. With a neverending nightlife. Everything is closed, of course, and it is really eerie on the streets. When all the cool people have retired to their fancy houses in the countryside or other countries even, it is only the crazies left. The people I wouldn’t really like to talk to, but they just keep on chatting to Mark. The place has a rundown feel to it, it isn’t really that nice right now. All bars, if you look into the windows even the chairs are put away. There’s nothing there. At times even the windows are barricaded shut with wooden boards. It’s a sad sight. This once very lively ghosttown.

We walk around Camden, and get to a big building site at the edge of Camden, so instead of going there I choose to turn around on a little street, which just leads me right back to where I started. So we get to see a little more of this town of the crazies. One thing I quickly notice is that Amy Winehouse is a big theme around here. I find pictures of her just about everywhere. Largely painted on building walls, and just about anywhere. I have to ask Mark.

  • Where do you get out of this town, we seem to just go in circles. Do we have to go to that building site over there past the cat building?
  • Yeah, that’s the way to town. 
  • OK, let’s go then.

We continue on our walk and arrive into an area with a completely different feel to it. Now the buildings aren’t that rundown anymore, they feel more like the modern buildings in Tokyo, a place I know very well and compare to a lot. We go into a building which Mark points out that we are currently next to. 

  • Come on, I’d like to show you where we are right now. 

We walk in a huge building with row after row of shops inside of it. All closed and dark giving of an eerie feel. There is almost no one around. One or two people around the place, and everyone wears masks of course. It’s a train station, and when I go up the stairs to the second floor I realise immediately where we are. This is Kings Cross. We stand looking at the international railway departure hall. And I’ve seen this place before, the first place I’ve actually recognised before. It’s from the scene when Hagrid disappears after giving Harry his ticket to the Hogwarts express at platform 9 and ¾. I know that they should have a tourist attraction with the entrance to platform 9 and ¾, but it seems to be nowhere around here. Oh well, maybe we’ll find it another day. I’m going to have Mark show me the way next time. I guess I am just that nerdy. I love the Harry Potter books. To me they are a big part of my childhood and I love them for all of the wonderful days I’ve spent sucked into the magical world of Harry Potter. 

Kings Cross is a train station, and thereby the only real place where they seem to be allowed to have toilets open. So we take the opportunity to use it, since it doesn’t seem to be the case for the smaller stations. That’s also a handy piece of information for you to put into your box of information you are probably never going to use again, in case you need a toilet in a pandemic, go to Kings Cross. 

We soon find ourselves hungry and tired from walking, outside the empty British Museum. It’s around lunchtime, and it would be great to find a bite somewhere to grab. But everything is closed. We’re now in the centre of London, which means the area that people don’t really live in. So there’s just not that much demand for takeaway restaurants during a pandemic. Takeaway is often not even an option, many of the open restaurants are delivery only, which doesn’t really fit when you’re on a long walk. We’re close to the Marquis so Mark tries to give his friend Tommy a call, but he isn’t available. Mark had an idea it would be cool to meet him up, but anyways it might be best not to. So we need to find something to eat now. We go sit down on a doorstep in a back alley in front of the British museum and rest for a little while. Tommy didn’t answer, so we need to find somewhere else. It’s cold and we’re tired and hungry. Let’s go search for a supermarket or something that’s open. We go and after a while we find an actually decent sized supermarket where we go in to buy lunch. They have a sushi desk in it with store made sushi. For us, that feels like hitting the jackpot. We buy sushi and some mango pieces, and look for a place to sit down to eat it. We settle on a beautiful railing outside a building, finally resting a little bit. 

  • Mark, say aaaah.
  • Aaaah.

And I put a big chunk of mango in his mouth. 

  • You know mango, it’s bass player food. If you’re a bass player, you can’t get nutrition from anything else.
  • I didn’t know that. That must have been why I’ve been losing weight recently. I haven’t had any mangoes!

After our wonderful meal of enough mango to keep us bass players healthy and some sushi for good sake, back up on our feet it is. We’re somewhere central right now, and I have no idea where. It’s not many people out and about the place, but we manage to find a couple of cafes that are open. There is one selling bubble tea which seems popular, but I want to go to the ordinary coffee shop next to it, which is a wonderful fairly big shop where the barista Dario is working. Mark strikes up a conversation and we talk about the different coffee types and I go for a nice brazilian blend. It turns out there really aren’t many customers coming around here, and I suspect we might be his first customers today. And it is afternoon. Not long until close for a coffee shop. We talk about everything from me being new in London to his country in South America. Talking for a while and he says:

  • Would you guys like some pastries?
  • Oh, yes please.
  • There really hasn’t been anyone buying pastries today.

He talks while he starts loading croissants and pain au chocolat into a paper bag, one, two, three. Oh wait what, how many is he going to fill them up with? He fills the bag to the brim, I think it is with about maybe 10 enormous pieces. Thankyou very much Dario. It’s well appreciated. 

We can’t be standing there holding the shop busy for too long, so off we go, continuing left. I’m feeling the left direction today. That’s the way to go. We walk for a while and then Mark informs me that the big building we see in front of us is St Paul’s Cathedral. Oh, cool. I found a famous place! We take some photographs and move in closer, to an almost completely empty Paternoster Square. Or as it looks like now and as we call it, Apocalypto Square. It is perfect for photographing while doing weird poses.  

The cold is biting us, so it is best to keep moving, but stopping for some nice photographs is a must. But I actually don’t feel like I need to photograph everything all the time anymore. I mean, I’m not here as a tourist really. I live here now. At least for now. So I can go to central London whenever I want. Which feels so cool.

We find ourselves walking into Shoreditch, where there is on the sidewalk a little sign saying that they sell wine there. This sounds very much like a bar, so we simply just must go inside and see what they sell. It’s a very nice little wine bar where you can actually buy bottles of wine to bring home. It’s so nice to see a place like this, it must be so cozy here when it’s open. The owner is really nice and sociable and seems so happy to see customers in the store. We ask if we could try any of the wines, and we’re lucky, because we can. So we get a couple of options of the already opened bottles presented to us, the bottles have been open a couple of weeks, but they’re still fine. It’s really fun to be able to try wine like this. This just isn’t a thing for me, I’ve never really done it like this, which makes it all the more special. We end up buying a nice bottle of wine from the owner’s home country, Hungary. They are currently renovating in preparation for the opening up, and at the same time they stay open as a wine store. They even do home deliveries of wine in the Shoreditch area. I can’t really grasp that concept, home delivery of wine. That’s just too good to be true, or am I just too fond of drinking?

Excusing ourselves and going out again, it starts to be time to return home. I’m just too tired. We hop on a bus, and I finally get to try the double decker London buses for the first time. After you get in, beep your card at the reader completely covered in the driver’s plastic cube, then you see the staircase leading up to the second floor. We go up there, and we’re alone so of course we sit in the front. Watching people all around town, going around in the bus that seems impossibly big for London’s narrow streets. It’s like an illusion, a magic trick perhaps. The buses are simply so big I can’t understand how they can drive them on these narrow streets. It must be magic. Like that bus in Harry Potter that magically changes size fitting all kinds of narrow openings. Yes. I’ve decided. That’s how the London buses work. That must be it. We sit and rest and watch the people on the street from the front window on the top floor of the bus, and I see this guy dressed kinda bad with an acoustic guitar without a case in his hand. He jumps on our bus and sits down on the lower level and I can hear him start playing. After a while he jumps off and we’re alone again. I guess these things just happen around here. How cool is that?

Mark:

It’s been a wonderful first day out in London for Maja and I’m not entirely sure who’s shown who around. But really, with the newbie leading the way, we’ve seen a whole different London than we would have done if I’d been in front and brought us to all the usual sights, which I’m sure we’ll see in due time anyway. 

What we can’t do so much anymore is talk about it. We’ve done it so much in the past week or so that late in the day our voices just start giving out. It happens to me first, and then when I mention it to Maja, she says that yes, her throat isn’t feeling quite right either. I know what to do about this and when we pop into a shop for water, I leave Maja to get that while I go hunting for honey and a small bottle of lemon juice. Out on the street and we both have a little of each and instantly feel the relief of the rough throat disappearing and something like voice normality resuming. But really, I can barely talk anymore. I don’t think Maja is that far behind me.

Off the bus and we’re into Kentish Town, getting off a few stops early to essentially walk the rest of the way home through a street that Maja has only seen before at night, on the walk here on that first day from the airport. But there is an ulterior motive here as we use the walk through town as an opportunity to have a look in the windows of estate agents to see what apartments are available around here and what we would be looking at for rents. I have an idea of course, but Maja doesn’t. More significant than the ridiculously high prices is the fact that we’re even considering this at all less than two weeks after we first met, but that seems to be where we are now. Yep, we haven’t even spoken about it, but here we are looking for our own apartment, like something we’re just taking for granted.

Maja:

It’s interesting taking a look at the real estate postings, to see how the reality of living London life will be like. We need at least a two room apartment, so I will be able to work in the mornings in my home office while Mark is asleep and also that he won’t have to disturb my sleep coming home at 3-4 am after playing the bars of London. It won’t be cheap, but is totally doable if I get myself a new computer engineering job here. It’s something to keep in mind for the future, but as of now I have a couple of other things that are more important. Like the impossible list. And also I want to feel a little less sad before looking for a job. Let’s just live life in the moment for a while, I think I deserve that. I want to spend some time looking at options, and see where life leads me. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

London, day 12

Day 12

Wednesday March 3

Mark:

Rehearsal at Sarah’s today, and with quarantine over, it means Maja can finally go too, which essentially means that, on only her second proper in London, she’s about to have her first session with what will be her first London band. But physics intervenes and we don’t make it.

Pretty much our whole house has been furnished with things found on the street. In London, if people buy new things and don’t need their old things, which are often not even that old, they just put them outside somewhere. If it’s an electrical item, there will often be a note saying, ‘this works.’ Our whole garden was kitted out that way, with a little help from the Palmerston regarding the parasols and deckchairs which Maja has come to love so much. This is how we have come to have an office chair as one of our kitchen chairs. She’s sitting on it now and I’m kind of milling about doing stuff. Until I decide to sit down and have a little close time. So there we are, Maja sitting back in the chair, me sitting on her facing the wrong way. All’s going well and fun until we slightly adjust our balance and the adjustable chair does what it does in these kinds of situations and adjusts. That’s not normally an issue at all. But then, it normally doesn’t have someone sitting backwards on it. And that’s the way I go now. Full on backwards, launched out of the chair. And Maja can’t do anything about it because she’s been thrown totally forwards. So now we’re both going. This might not be quite so bad, except Maja was facing the radiator, which means I’m now unknowingly heading towards it at quite frightening speed. Or to be more accurate, the back of my head is about to hit it at quite frightening speed. And, according to my sources, with a particularly frightening sound. 

Maja:

As the chair disappears from beneath me and we’re thrown at a terrifying speed, I hear one of the worst sounds I’ve ever heard. Not quite a thud, more of a bash which is then followed by silence. Almost like a kickdrum. And just after that my forehead hits the radiator as well. It hurts, shoots right through me, but soon afterwards I feel OK. It’s just a small bruise. But Mark, on the other hand, falls down. Not quite immediately, but I see him losing a bit of power as he half sits, half leans on the radiator. It doesn’t look good. A second or so later it’s like he has regained some kind of control and tries to sit up and repeats “I’m alright, I’m alright” weakly. Oh no mister. You’re certainly not OK. Lie down now, and I accept no resistance. I gently but strongly push him down, holding my hand under his head to soften it. And there I let him lie there for a while, checking that he is OK. I think he’s got a concussion. Almost definitely. 

Mark:

That all happens and I crumple to the floor, my crumpling considerably hastened by Maja projectiling on top of me as she suffers her own fall. In this fashion we very messily complete our undignified drop to the floor and that’s where the similarity of our journeys end. She’s immediately up and I’m not. I’m kind of half sitting, half lying there on my back, head very clumsily and uncomfortably propped up by a hard, white slab of metal. My eyes are closed in pain and a little bit of shock, causing considerable alarm in Maja who’s now looking down on me asking with some deep concern if I’m alright. With that I think I really should open my eyes and let her know I’m at least not dead. This proves a little harder than I was expecting and it’s not too long before my eyes are more or less half closed again. ‘Stay there. Do not move,’ says Maja, her medical experience and knowledge kicking in. I do, and she makes sure no serious damage has been done before she gives me the all clear to stand up, where we do another cursory check to make sure all things are working as they should. They are. More or less and I’m insisting that I’m alright. ‘No you’re not,’ she says. ‘That was a heavy fall. You have a concussion.’ Concussion schmushon. I’m fine. But no. She insists that we go upstairs and I lie down in bed, at least until we can confirm that I am absolutely alright. 

Very quickly after lying down, I start to suspect she might actually have a point. My head is hurting. A lot. It feels thick and heavy and I’m dizzy. So much so that the room isn’t quite spinning, but it is at least moving backwards and forwards a little which it certainly wasn’t doing before so it must be me. Maybe it really was a little bit more than an innocent knock on the head. I do hope the radiator’s OK. Maja says nothing for 10 minutes or so and just lets me recover my senses (a questionable exercise at the best of times to be fair). Once I’ve come round a little more, enough to admit that yes, she’s right, I say we should probably get in touch with Sarah and cancel today. Well, duh. So, instead of going off and having a musical session round there, we stay here and Maja sits by the bed, passing the time in my de facto absence by singing along to a whole bunch of her favourite songs. Which is how I discover that she can actually sing pretty well. For now I’ll file that away for future use as I lie back and continue to be useless for most of the rest of the day.

I’ve really got to confess that not everything in these accounts is quite as I remember it, but I was concussed so what the hell do I know?

Maja:

I’m glad I’m stubborn, because he is certainly not OK, I very much realise this when I help him up the stairs. Then, once upstairs I have him lie down while I check online for what to do if you suspect a concussion. I decide that he is not in any danger and will be fine if he just spends the day in bed until he feels better, so I keep him there. He’s not in danger, but he will certainly not be able to move around much today. Oh, what a bummer. We had all of those grand plans of going to Sarahs for rehearsal, and enjoying the second day out of self isolation and here I am having to stay in this room all over again. I feel a bit bored after a while, not really having anything to do. So I default to doing something I like to do while bored. Singing along to songs I like. Right now I’m into Red Hot Chili Peppers and Gorillaz, so I mainly sing tunes from those.

London, day 13

Thursday March 4

Mark:

I’m on a little trip out to the shop for milk and other basic things when I see a nearby house has left a whole bunch of garden stuff outside their front garden. I don’t register any immediate interest and walk past it without too much of a second look. But then, just as I get to our garden I glance back and see that there might just be something of interest. Not anything actually in the display, more what a portion of it is actually on. I walk up to it all and see that this section is arrayed on a two level trolley. A very dirty trolley, but quite interesting nonetheless. I wonder what this would look like cleaned up, I think. Only one way to find out. I have no idea what this kind of thing could be used for, but I think it’s something worth having a look at at least. My idea is to take it into our back garden, give it a good clean, then chuck it back out into the front garden and then show it to Maja who can decide if it’s worth keeping or not. I really expect her to say no but that’s OK. Apart from anything else, it would probably be just more clutter in a tiny room. It might not even comfortably fit. 

Oh well. Let’s see. It really cleans up quite well and I can now see it in all its silver and gold newness. Now it also finally looks like what it is. A cake trolley. I take it upstairs and place it in the front garden. Now to go and get Maja and see what she thinks of it. She comes up the stairs mildly curious and, before I open the front door I say, ‘Feel free to say no. I’m really not sure myself.’ I open it up and there it is. She’s not hugely impressed but she’s not dismissing it either, saying, ‘Let’s bring it in. You never know.’ I didn’t see that coming to be fair. But OK. In it comes. We now have a cake trolley.

Maja:

After receiving the perfect little gift of a cake trolley, which sits perfectly as a little wheeled table in my room, it’s time to go out. Out to explore the world. Or more like: out to see Camden market. Yes, I know, everything is closed. But that is not stopping me. Let’s go and see what we find. The streets are, well, not quite empty but almost. There’s not that much movement around. We start walking down the highstreet, where most of the people are walking around. It’s a nice walk, the weather is fresh and the cold is slightly biting but not too much. Actually very comfortable. After a while we reach Camden again. It’s a town filled with empty bars, and there’s almost no one walking around. Mark keeps pointing out all bars, with trivia in the style of, in this bar this and that famous band started out, but it seems to not have survived the pandemic. And, I played there with the Insiders, and other stories. I listen and can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. It’s a lot. Just… A lot. 

Walking for a little while we reach Camden Market. It’s a famous place that tourists usually go to. A sightseeing spot. It has restaurants, bars, food stands, boats and shops. Everything you can possibly imagine a sightseeing spot having. Expect people. And everything is closed. Except for the food stands. London is currently open for take away catering, which means that food stands are allowed. But there is a catch here. You’re not allowed to sit down, or stand at one place and eat. So you need to eat while walking. We see this getting enforced by security officers walking around the area, and if they see someone sitting down for a little while on some steps or something they walk up to the person and ask them to walk along. I never saw them enforcing it any stronger than that, but this really makes it impossible to rest, even for a little while. Since the food stands are open we walk around to see what they have open. It’s a lot of different food options, Chinese, Mexican, all kinds of food from countries I can’t remember and of course, fish and chips. I want fish and chips. I don’t think I’ve ever actually had it before. It’s just not something we eat in Sweden. We don’t have a culture of deep frying things, so everything fried is quite new to me. I want to try it. We order one serving each, and we get this wonderful fish and chips with a nice pink sauce to it. It’s really nice, and feels very very British. Mark starts a little chat with the chef in the food stand. It’s obvious that these places have had a rough time, but it is always interesting to hear a little more detail about what’s happening. A lot of the places around here that have a possibility to be open look like small businesses and they seem to be some of the more lucky food places. And of course, Mark and the chef soon start bonding over something specific to northern English people. I think it’s about curry sauce with pineapple in it. Whatever they mean by that. I’m not quite sure. There’s so many kinds of curry in this world that I can’t even begin to guess.

We want to stand there and eat our fish, but the chef asks us to go stand by the railing of the river since they can’t have people there. We do, but soon a security officer comes and tells us to continue along. So we do. Trying to eat the fish while also trying to not let it cool down too quickly in the slightly icy wind. 

It’s still a very good fish. 

Time flies when you have fun, and we realise it starts to be time for us to return home to get our gear and walk over to Sarah’s for our first rehearsal. Halfway home Mark gets a phone call. It’s Sarah, cancelling the rehearsal once again. Well, it’s fine, we’ll just do it another day.

I’m not really complaining, it’s nice spending time with Mark. We have a couple of stories to tell each other today as well. And the ceiling is starting to get a little bit lonely since we’ve not been there to watch it.

London, days 14 and 15

Day 14

Friday March 5

Maja:

I don’t want to leave. That’s the feeling I’ve been tackling these last couple of days. I really have started to like it here, and I don’t want to leave. But really, what is it I don’t want to leave? I don’t want to leave Mark. I don’t want to go back to Sweden just yet. Not now. Not when I don’t even know what I really want just yet. Please, don’t make me leave. Please. 

I’ve decided I want to stay. Really stay. Beyond the six months I currently have on my visa. But how in the world will I accomplish anything like that? How will I stay in London now after Brexit has happened? I’ve been looking at different ways of how to stay here, but I’ve not really reached any good alternatives just yet. I’m used to working in English, so getting a job in London would be a piece of cake as far as language is concerned at least. But even if I wanted to do that, I would need a work visa. For that, I would need to go back to Sweden, somehow get a job in the UK, and then apply for the visa from there. First, by definition, that means leaving which we’ve established I don’t want to do. Second, I came here in the first place to get away from my situation in Sweden, not to go straight back into it. And third, finding a job in the UK and then applying for a visa sounds like something that would take a long time. And after all that, there’s a fourth. The application could simply be refused. What then? So no. This is not an option.

But there is this one thing I’ve heard of called the Global Talent Visa. On the face of it, it looks like the perfect fit for someone like me. I’m a computer/cloud engineer, which is one of the most sought after professions in the world, and the number one sought after profession in tech. Honestly, I’m confident I could get a job anywhere with a good salary. I understand that a Global Talent Visa would allow me to stay without the obligation of going and getting a job immediately. It also seems to be a fairly quick processing period – three weeks give or take. So me and Mark start to delve into the details of how to apply for that visa. 

Balls.

It doesn’t take long for us to realise that the whole thing is just impossibly complicated and seems set up to fail. Also, there are too many bureaucratic requirement boxes I don’t tick. Actually, it seems impossible that anyone as young as me could tick them all. And there seems to be a lot of coordination to be done from the employer’s side as well. An employer I don’t even have yet. And they make constant references to ‘Your sponsor’ without giving any information on what qualifies someone to be named as your sponsor. We spend a lot of time just trying to find some clarification on just that one point and end up being taken round in circles. It’s here that we give up. No. This is just impossible. Even if it wasn’t, I have experience in applying for working visas and it’s just hell. There are also so many things that can go wrong and I really don’t feel that confident about applying for anything in Brexit UK.

But I want to stay here. Or more than that, I’d like to stay with Mark. I don’t want to leave him. I think I love him. 

OK. I can stay here for now and worry about the six month thing later on. Until then, I really just could be here, living off my savings which I happen to have because I never really spent that much, preferring to be able to travel. Like many young people do when they save up and go travel the world. I want to do that, or at least my version of it. But for now I would really just be happy renting a room and being with Mark. I’ve had a high salary for quite a while now so I have a good enough amount built up. And if I was to go for a slightly more modest lifestyle to make my savings last longer, that would be no big deal. I saved most of what I earned when I was doing well, and it’s not that long ago that I was a student and getting by on barely anything at all. Also, while I was far from deprived growing up, it’s not like my family had any kind of great fortune lying around either. This is all to say that tightening up would not be a major challenge for me.

Of course, savings are always finite, and I don’t know how long they’re going to last. But for now, I’d rather live a little time stress free until I feel ready to go back to an office job, or maybe I’m just going to feel like doing something else. I don’t know. I just know that right now, I don’t feel ready to go back. Not just yet. I want to stay with Mark. Besides, if it comes to it, there are always opportunities to freelance in my line of work.

Can’t I just stay here?

Does it really have to be this complicated?

Then it comes to me. ‘Mark, can’t we just get married?’

Mark:

By now we’ve decided that we’re opposite sex versions of each other, with each one also covering gaps the other has. An example. Maja really wants to do music but doesn’t quite have the skillset or experience. Hello. To really do anything in music, you need to be quite good at technology and computers for recording, and internet stuff in general for all the other stuff. Did you read anything above just now that fits into that? Come on. Even my WordPress wasn’t up to speed until she came along. We’ve also discovered we have very similar work ethics and approaches. With this, she’s been starting to call me Boy Maja, an almost overwhelming feeling of approval given the total awe in which I hold her achievements, determination and aptitude. I guess that makes her girl Mark.

The idea of Maja staying in London beyond her six months has really taken hold and we’re researching how she could get a visa. Her preferred route is through the Global Talent programme which basically means companies can sponsor people they believe have abilities beyond what are available in this country. We’re in the middle of a roadblock and Maja’s trying to make a bit more sense of that. She’s deep in thought and reading so I decide to go downstairs and make tea. It will be the most momentous trip to make tea I’ve ever made.

I come back to see how she’s getting on, and kneel down on the bed in front of her to listen to the expected update. She looks us and all I see in her expression is exasperation. In a tired voice, she says, ‘This looks really complicated and undoable. We should probably just get married.’

Oh. OK. Yes. That’s it. That’s my response. I nod and say, ‘OK.’ Then I realise two things. First, the actual gravity of the situation and second, that I’m already on my knees. Alright, not one knee but I think you can see we’re already going about all this slightly differently to expected convention. My expression morphs to serious as I look deeply at her and she lets out a little giggle as she realises what I’m about to say. And I do. ‘Maja, will you marry me?’ Another giggle. ‘Yes.’ There’s no ring or anything. Oh, and there’s the small detail that she is actually still married. But just like that, two weeks after we first met, we’re engaged.


There’s only one song to play to mark the ocassion, so I dig it out. The Counting Crows’ Accidentally In Love. Seriously. When I went to the airport, I was going to meet a friend who was in a difficult time and needed to get away. I just happened to be able to provide a place to stay. Romance was nowhere in my mind, let alone the possibility that I was heading off to the airport to meet my future wife. But here we are.

This definitely has to be marked. This really is celebration time. So I go out and buy champagne, a purchase I augment with whiskey and ginger for cocktails. While I’m doing that, Maja orders in Thai food. A party for two, all set up on our wonderful cake trolley.

Maja:

I’m surprised when Mark, already on his knees, says, ‘Wait, wait, wait. That’s my line.’ 

He then grabs my hand and looks me deep in the eyes.

‘Maja, will you marry me?’

‘Yes.’

The rest of the day disappears quickly in happy hormones, champagne and Thai food.

I’m in love.

Mark:

So am I. Accidentally.

Day 15

Saturday March 6

Mark:

A gentle day after last night with a notable afterparty guest as our cat Toffee comes and joins us in the room for a while and hangs out on the bed. It’s her first visit so maybe she felt a change in the force. 

Maja:

Toffee is a little cat, with a peculiarly small head. I mean, her head is really small. Like too small to be true. But she is very cute, and I get to cuddle her a bit. But she is a scaredy cat. Any sudden movement and she’ll jump to the other side of the room in a second. It’s clear to see that she is very attached to Mark, who is an animal lover. Mark can be a little awkward around animals, but it’s clear that he enjoys them very much. I think he really wants to have his own pets. Toffee barely counts since she is practically adopted from the street, and mainly lives outside. But Mark is really happy to have her around.

London, Day 16 and 17

Sunday March 7

Mark:

On Tuesday February 23 we decided we were going to start to try writing songs together. Since then we’ve written something everyday in one of the notebooks – that’s the three I bought at the beginning, and an extra A4 book. That something could be a few verses, or both of us writing whole sets of lyrics each, sometimes spanning up to four or five pages at a time. Translating the written word into a song is a whole other thing, but getting something out of a blank page is also progress, so the ideas are there. And what we’re telling is the story of us. Nonsensical conversations turned into fantasy lyrics, or just simply tell it as it happened lyrics, or say how you feel lines. All put together for a whole concept of what we see as just feelgood writing which we hope to turn into feelgood songs complete with singalong choruses. In short, we’re attempting to musically bottle up what we are and somehow, we have no idea how just yet, take it out to people.

Maja:

I love writing these little lyrics. Just me and Mark, with a notebook and dreams and laughter. Cute little happy rhymes, mixed with dark stories about what we’ve been through. There’s a lot of artistic freedom of course, I’m not saying that everything is based on reality, but it feels really good to put pen to paper and try to express feelings in rhymes. Wonderful really. I’ve never really done this, and thoughts just keep on flowing out of my head down on paper in little bucket loads at a time.

Mark:

With that, we get started for the first time today as Maja sets up a studio in this little room and we tackle the first issue of percussion, which I do by improvising different percussion sounds on the acoustic guitar we borrowed from Sarah. I manage to come up with something that sounds like a kick drum and a snare, and we record a kick track, then a snare track. And now we have drums. Or something like them. After this it’s down to experimentation as we try different chord progressions and break out some of our lyrics to see what kinds of vocals we can come up with. It’s all part of the process and I’m not expecting whole chunks of already written lyrics to end up fully formed in a song, but it’s great to have something to start with, and as I thought, once a line emerges, we really get hold of it and develop it to come up with something different. We both have a go at singing lines as they come, to see where they can be taken, but we don’t get a massive way into this as, not long after we’ve got it set up, we have to leave to go to Sarah’s. But that’s fine. We’ve finally started actually trying to do something with the lyrics we’ve been writing, and that is a really big deal.

Maja:

My room is impossibly small, but since we can’t hang out in Mark’s room because Jenn lives there, we spend all our time in my room. My bed is too small to sleep two people in, so Mark still gets to sleep downstairs. Being as it is, small, crowded, there’s no way that you could possibly even fit a desk in here. But we have the cake trolley that Mark found, so I could use that to set up a makeshift desk. Maybe. I search around in the room for anything usable, and behind the bed I find a couple of broken slits for the bed. Perfect. I take the slits, tape them with some gaffer tape and put them between the handles of the trolley. Voila, a table! The computer goes on the slits, the interface beneath and then we can connect the microphone to that. Perfect. Mark starts to do a lot of different things and all I can think is wooah. I have no idea what to do here, how to help. It’s amazing and a bit daunting at the same time. Especially when he starts to play the guitar and totally goes all out in his singing. How does he even do that? I just don’t know. How am I going to do that? I understand that even less. It’s a bit scary. And I get all nervous and flustered, not wanting to make a fool out of myself perversely managing to make an even a bigger fool out of myself.

Mark:

No you don’t. This creative thing is hard. Pulling songs and ideas out of thin air. The key is to not be afraid to be terrible. Everyone does stuff that’s terrible. You just do your best to not let anyone outside the room see your terrible stuff. But of course, sometimes things do slip through the quality test and make it onto the stage. But even then, when you think you’ve done good stuff, you’ve just kinda got to hope other people agree. Or even then you could be deluding yourself and making a mess 

strutting terrible stuff all over the stage.

Maja:

Looks like you have a lot of experience of making a fool out of yourself. That’s great.

Mark:

The very definition of an experienced person is someone who’s made a lot of mistakes. 

We get to Sarah’s and she’s all over Maja. Geisha Rising is the name of Sarah’s new pet project that aims to promote all kinds of different artists and she’s blown away that into her life has walked a girl who embodies quite a few qualities of the Geisha; not only is Maja adept with a sword, being a proficient practitioner of Aikido, she also speaks fluent Japanese. Add that to the possibility that she bears more than a passing resemblance to the logo that Sarah has had commissioned for her project, and Sarah, a deep spiritual believer, really feels a significant alignment of the stars. Not least where it comes to myself and Maja. ‘You two are the real deal,’ she says with absolute conviction. Me and Maja coyly look at each other and laugh. ‘Well,’ says Maja, ‘We have some news.’ Sarah takes a seat and looks at us. We look at each other again, each daring the other to say it. But before either of us has a chance to say anything, Sarah bursts out with what sounds like a one word sentence, ‘You’regettingmarried.’ We don’t even answer. We just laugh hysterically and Sarah launches herself from the chair to envelope us in a huge group hug. ‘I knew it, I knew it, I just knew it,’ she says in between what are almost sobs. 

Then, all of a sudden she gets serious. ‘How’s it going over at the house?’ she asks. My silence says it all, while Maja replies, after some hesitation, ‘Not good. Really not good at all.’ This part hasn’t been written about so much, more kinda being a between the lines thing. But I should break cover here and say that Maja and Jenn don’t talk. Not, aren’t talking. They don’t talk to each other. At all. They’re never even in the same room. As far as I’m aware, on the first night, they said hi to each other and the word count has remained the same ever since. As for me, well, Jenn hasn’t said a whole lot to me lately either and I’m now even knocking on the bedroom door before I go in. A room I’ve lived in for over five years. Which I’m paying half the rent for. But strangely, it does feel right to do that. To just walk in would feel like an invasion. Of my own room. But it really is different for Maja. I’ve been in this house for six years and known Jenn for 12. Maja is brand new in the house and didn’t arrive in the best emotional shape as it was, so the potential for her feeling awkward and generally unwelcome is off the chart. As well as not having written too much of that in here, it really isn’t something we’ve spoken about a great deal either.

‘OK,’ says Sarah, nodding sagely, wheels clearly really turning. She stares at us for a second, as if taking us in, then says, ‘How would you guys feel about coming and living here? Rent free.’ What now? Me and Maja don’t even bother to consult. An instant, breathless yes is all that comes out of both of us. I might even just make a sound that sounds like it could be positive. We rush to her and there are more exuberant group hugs. But Sarah isn’t finished. ‘That’s really great,’ she says once we’ve all broken away. There’s more. ‘I’ve been wanting to go away quite a lot for a while but I’ve not had anyone to watch the cats and I’ve wanted someone for a while to just be living here and there’s not really been anyone I know I would be completely comfortable with asking. But I look at you two, so much in love, and having a bit of a hard time of it with a difficult living situation and, well, Mark I know, but Maja, I feel such a great energy off you and the two of you together, well…

‘The thing is, it’s not just helping look after the cats while I’m away now and then. I’ve been thinking for a while of just getting away from London altogether. I mean, to live. I’ve always seen this as just a temporary base for myself and I’m getting restless to go back out into the world again. Where, I have no idea, but within a month or two, and it will be for a long time. It would mean so much to me to know that my home  and my cats were safe and that there was someone living here that I could really trust. And I just know that’s you guys. All I’d ask is that you looked after the bills. Everything else is taken care of. Would you be up for all that?’ We are now nodding frantically and totally disbelievingly, totally unable to take in what was being said as it was being said. It’s just unreal. This does not happen. Yes yes, yes and yes is all we can say. ‘My babies, that’s just wonderful,’ she says, grabbing us both in yet another huge hug. ‘I just know this is going to be amazing. You guys are perfect for me and for this place. Before I go off on my travels, we can also work together, play music together, anything. Whatever you want. And this place will be yours, so treat it as your home. Whatever improvements or anything you want to do, just go for it.’ She then says that she has to go out and meet someone now, so will we be OK if she leaves us on our own for a little while? And we can also take some time to think about it. Yes we will definitely be fine here, and no need to think about anything at all. With that, another hug and Sarah is out the door. As soon as it closes, me and Maja look at each other in complete, total incredulity. What was that? Did you hear what I heard? We have place to move into now? And in a short while it’s going to be just us? It’s going to be our place? In practically central London? For free? This is just too much. This just doesn’t happen. Really? Has this just happened? It has, but we really are having a hard time taking it in. So much that we’re convinced we must have misheard or misunderstood something. But we can’t figure out what any of that could possibly be, so we conclude that we did indeed hear and understand the same things. Wow. OK. Time to check out the place. Our new place. That we’ll be moving into in a couple of days. Only a few days ago, Maja said out loud, ‘I wonder what our place will look like.’ I pretty much shut the conversation down as didn’t seem to be something possible so I didn’t see it as being really worth thinking about. ‘I was only thinking about it, it’s fun,’ she said. So I played along and we thought and talked about this impossible, mythical London apartment we were going to move into. All the time I was thinking, ‘I’m on furlough, and will have to keep up rent here as well for at least some kind of respectable period. No. Impossible. Not going to happen, but hey, let’s play pretend. Well…

Sarah’s said the place is a bit of a mess and there’s a lot of work to be done, but that’s fine. We’re up for it all. And I know what our room will be. It has to be. Sarah of course has the main big double room with its view overlooking central London. Alright, let’s not get carried away here. It’s not the classic skyline and bright lights, but over and through the houses of north London you can see through Kings Cross to one of the prominent buildings of the city. You can see a tall building, you can see central London. That’s good enough. The place also has what we’ve come to know as the main room, which is where all general hanging out and rehearsing takes place. This is in the middle of the apartment, with the small kitchen off that to the left, and the bathroom off it to the right. From the main room we have a corridor leading to the front door with a toilet at the immediate right. Continue on and you have the door on the right to Sarah’s room. At the end on the left you have the front door. To the right of that is the door of mystery, which I happen to know is basically used as a storage room for things belonging to Sarah’s friends. Then to the right of that is what I suppose would otherwise be the front room, which overlooks the street. It’s a beautiful room and really quite big. This has to be what will become our bedroom. We go and stand in there for a few moments trying to take all this in, spinning round, arms outstretched, in what will become ours. This, then later on, the whole thing. And between now and then, we will be living with the wonderful, hugely talented singing Sarah in what will be just the most amazing three person house share. Me and Sarah already have our connection, personally and musically. And the way she’s been drawn to Maja is just huge and instant.

For so long, in my head I’ve still been solving the impossible list by not thinking about it, just living day by day in the delusion that solutions will just pop up out of the road as we come to them. Now, here we are with a few huge delusions realised in one hit. We’ve found an apartment in lockdown London which, despite all our optimistic noises to each other, seemed totally insurmountable. But now with this, we’ve also solved the financial/work situation of how the hell I would pay my part of it, and sorted out how I can keep paying my share of the room with Jenn. Just like that, the impossible is all taken care of; I can continue to pay my share of the rent I’ve been paying all along with the furlough I’m still getting and, er, that’s it. Job done, impossible ticked off the list. All it took was for someone to offer us our own central London apartment for free. Pretty obvious when you think about it.

Maja:

Eeeeeeh. Wait what just happened? I don’t think I quite follow. 

London, Day 17

Monday March 8

Maja:

Today we have nothing planned, which is perfect and it means that we can just walk around and talk about everything that just happened. Which I still just can’t believe. Nothing really makes sense to me anymore. We need time to realise what just happened, and how better to do that then to take a wonderful walk around the neighbourhood. To Camden Market maybe? We find ourselves a wonderful little coffee shop in a charming little record store where I’m finally able to satisfy my coffee cravings with a wonderfully made flat white with amazing coffee art in a takeaway cup. After wandering around and taking in Camden Market, we start to make our way home again. ‘Hey, Mark. I don’t want to go home just yet. Can’t we continue?’ And so we do, ending up in Waterlow Park where we see the ducks swimming harmoniously in the pond. Then we go and find a bench where we sit and enjoy the view of our London. We’ve been out for way over three hours, and return home excited about whatever is going to happen next.

London: The First Move, day 18

Day 18

Tuesday March 9, 2021

Mark:

We’re chilling at home when Sarah calls me. ‘I’m going out for a bit so if you want I can give you the keys to the apartment. But I’m leaving pretty much now. So, if you’re up for it, say 20 minutes at Tufnell Park station?’ I don’t even bother to check with Maja. I just say yes we’ll be there. I go to the kitchen to find Maja having a good chat with Cris. Apologising for interrupting, I say, ‘Maja, we have to leave right now.’ I explain what’s happening but my words clearly come out too fast because once we’re out of the house she says, ‘Where are we going?’ Oh dear. Sorry. OK. I tell her properly this time and get a much more excited response to the fact that we’re now getting keys to the apartment and are going to babysit Sarah’s two cats. Moving day will still be maybe Thursday, to be confirmed, but to be about to get the keys makes it so real because, frankly, the thought of getting this place for free has seemed a bit too good to be true, but now it’s actually happening. We get to Tufnell Park tube just two minutes before Sarah who gives us a huge greeting before handing over the keys. Then she’s gone into the night and we head off to the apartment.

We’re hanging out just chilling there a few hours later when Sarah calls. ‘Guys,’ she says, ‘I’ve decided I’m staying out tonight. Do you mind staying there and I’ll see you in the morning?’ Maja hears this, we nod to each other, then I confirm that yes, that will be alright. I hang up and then me and Maja have a moment. Oh, we think simultaneously. This is it. We’ve moved in now. Just like that, it has happened.

With that, thoughts turn to how we’re going to have dinner here, and the fact that we have to get a little something extra to mark the ocassion. We decide to order in from a local Greek restaurant which I’ll pick up while taking a detour to one of the finest wine shops in London which is right around the corner. When I leave, I can’t help but to take a celebratory sprint to the end of the street. Me and Maja are in sight of having our actual own place in almost central London. A three bedroom apartment in view of the city. And there’s no rent or deposit to pay. All we’re being asked to do is cover the bills. We’re literally on the verge of being given a free apartment, but even before it becomes our whole own apartment, we have a room. Again, for free. This is also us moving in together, and into what will be a totally musical place, just two and a half weeks after we first met at Heathrow airport.

Maja:

I can’t believe we’ve just managed to do another impossible thing. It is impossible to live rent free in London. It’s just impossible. And it seems beyond wonderful to live in this musical collective. Cheers Mark. To us and to our bright future.

London: The First Move, day 19

Day 19

Wednesday March 10, 2021

Mark:

When Sara arrives at the house this morning she’s absolutely delighted to see us there. We all live together now and we get to talking about musical plans. Sarah really wants the two of us to join her as essentially her backing band and she has big plans for us to really go to town on rehearsals now we’re all in the same space 24/7. There’s talk of reshaping the main living room area into a studio/workspace, but that will come later once we’ve got the apartment into a bit more order. To this she says, ‘Guys, this is your place. I’m not going to be staying here much longer so whatever you want to do, just do it. Treat it as your own home because it is.’ While we will be working together, hopefully a lot, Sarah’s fast moving on with her plans to be moving on and out of London. And with that, she gives us an even bigger surprise than she gave us last night when we discovered we’d accidentally moved in. She wants us to have her room. ‘It makes sense,’ she says. ‘I won’t be living here much and you guys will, and eventually the whole place will fully become yours anyway, so we might as well get that started now.’ Anyway, she reasons, we’re two people and she’s just one so it makes sense that we have the big double room and she moves herself into the single room. No, we were not expecting this at all. I’ve long known the single room was for storage of things for her friends and was not to be touched. There is another large room in the house at the front looking out over the street and we assumed that was where we would be calling our own. But no. The whole place is to get an overhaul and we’re to play a big part in that. And all while staying in the big double bedroom which actually has a view of parts of central London. Very much a partial view, obscured as it is by the local rooftops, but our very own central London view nonetheless.

To make this all happen, there is a hell of a lot to do so we do the only thing there is to be done. We get started. This new place is a 15 to 20 minute walk from the house we’re leaving. So, while Maja cleans and organises, I get busy with making shuttle walks between the two places carrying all our stuff. This is, indeed, moving day.

Maja:

Under the bed are a couple of drawers in which mens clothes are stashed. I carefully place them in a box for the cupboard as I ask Sarah, ‘Who do these belong to?’ She explains that they belong to some TV celebrity that apparently everyone knows the name of, but I, a Swede, have never heard of. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing not knowing, but the bed I sleep in is the very same bed a famous person has regularly slept in. And I now know where his ties are. If you happen to be the celebrity in question and you’re reading this and want them back, I put them in the cupboard above the plates close to the ceiling. I’m sure you know where that is.

Mark:

Once we’ve got to what we can call a conclusion for the day, we settle in at the window and pour ourselves a massively earned Orange GnT. We have to do that in our room because from being really the party animal, even in our rehearsals, Sarah has very recently decided she doesn’t drink anymore so would like to not have the temptation, but she’s been emphatic that we shouldn’t let that stop us, as long as we keep it to our room please. No problem at all. And well, with a view like that as well to share between just the two of us, that’s actually just fine. More and more this is all getting too good to be true.

Maja gives actual action to that thought as she tells me she’s going to continue paying rent on the room in the house we’ve just left. ‘Incase things burn here.’ Why should they burn, I think. I respect the decision and don’t say anything, but really, why should they? This is a beautiful situation with the beautiful soul of Sarah and us two. What could possibly go wrong? But yeah sure. Nothing wrong with having a little back-up plan.

Maja:

As we finally lie down, we’re in a celebratory mood. We live here now. Sarah has settled down in her room and now this is the first night for all three of us to be here. Mark quickly falls asleep next to me and I remain awake for a while, reflecting upon the weirdness of all the things that have been happening lately. My former life and my future life. I’m getting sleepier and sleepier. I’m close to really dropping off when I notice a strange sound. It’s coming from down the hall. From Sarah’s room. I quietly sneak out of bed and peek into her room. Next to her is an enormous speaker, but it is way too far away for me to dare to go in and turn it off or down. So I sneak back into bed and try to accustom myself to the new sounds I’m going to have to listen to tonight. ‘Aaauuuumm, aaauuuummm, ching, aauuuum’. Some kind of meditative chanting. I hate these kinds of sounds. I find them terribly unnerving. As the tracks continue on I realise that I’m stuck in an infinite playlist of Youtube hell. 

Mark:

We won’t find out what this all is until morning, but what’s happened is that Sara’s fallen asleep listening to something soothing on Youtube. Whatever that was has finished and now the continuation playlist has been activated. Either the video she was listening to was very quiet, or the next one was very loud. In any case, what’s happening now is that the whole apartment is filled with eerie, extremely unnerving Gregorian chanting. It feels like we are inside and living the soundtrack to a horror movie. We’re totally encased in it and sleep is impossible. It goes on and on and we have no idea what to do. We don’t want to intrude on Sarah’s room and turn it off or down. Instead, we comfort each other and endure in varying levels of desperation and exasperation. This goes on until about 8am when it suddenly gets turned off with Sarah waking to do so. We still don’t intrude. Instead, relief and benign gratitude washing over us, we go to sleep. But it’s somewhat of a qualified relief because we’re left thinking if this kind of thing is normal around here and something we’re going to have to live with. I feel our first little chat approaching. We have to know what the hell all that was about.

When we’re all up and about and I bring it up with Sarah, she says, ‘Oh, if that ever happens just go in and turn it off. I just fall asleep and never know what’s going to come up next.’ Oh. That was easy. A horrible, horrible and very unsettling night, especially given it was the first one, but really, we can leave it there.

London: The First Move, days 20 and 21

Day 20

Thursday March 11, 2021

Mark:

New Bass Day for Maja and she’s totally thrilled with it. A Washburn, the exact same model as mine, but a different colour and just a few ever so slightly different specs, but essentially the same bass. And it plays wonderfully. It’s ridiculous to think two new, high end basses were sent back to the shop in disgrace, while this second hand number has turned up, costing about a quarter of the price of either of them, and is just out of the box brilliant.

As Maja’s joyfully contemplating and trying out her new acquisition, for some reason I decide to look at the serial number of my bass, something I’ve never done before. I am stunned beyond to discover that the first five numbers of it are 92102. Maja’s birthday: 1992, October 2nd. Even Sarah, with all her tuned in spirituality and encouraging words that the two of us are meant to be, is struck into total silence by this revelation. 

After all this, me and Maja have a few drinks then, at 1am, we decide to go out to the local town of Archway and continue out there. We fill a backpack with selected bottles and cups and take off. It’s in some state of enthusiastic exuberance that we bounce along the road, coming across a shop protected with a purple shutter and adorned with stylish graffiti. Maja is wearing a purple raincoat. It is far too good an opportunity to pass down. The resulting photographs are every bit as spectacular as we hoped they would be.

We continue right to the end of the high street. There, opposite the tube, we find a late night kebab takeaway place. Across the road from that is a very attractive and socially laid out group of benches. Just perfect for a party of two. 

Day 21

Friday March 12, 2021

Mark:

Another trip to Camden Market. This really is becoming a thing and that’s the main item on the agenda today, alongside the continuing huge job of cleanup and organisation of the room and apartment with Sarah enthusiastically joining in. She really is going for it now, saying that she expects us to be there for anything up to five years as she keeps going on her travels. She says once again that she’s only ever considered this a temporary base anyway and had long been looking for someone who could come and take the place over, but no-one she knew quite fit what she was looking for. Then Maja came along, the two of us needed a place, and Sarah saw a perfect fit in all directions. And now here we are. I told Maja things happened in London, but within less than three weeks of arriving here, she’s landed a relationship, what looks like being the beginnings of a full time band with one of the most connected people in town – I’m talking about Sarah here – and a free apartment. By any standards, this is just ridiculous. 

As for all the other stuff, this time I really have solved it by not thinking about it. I’m kinda walking around in a daze of denial and delusion that somehow, magically, the obstacles in front of us will just fall away. After all, we’ve just landed a free apartment. Surely the rest of the stuff will take care of itself as well. Yep. OK Mark. You just keep telling yourself that. But really, I think I’ve boiled it down to, you’re OK today and that’s about it. It comes down to that. One day at a time, so today is just today.

On a little wander out to the shop today I bump into Rafael, who lives above my bar. He says he saw us make all our trips the other day and says I should have asked him to help, as he has a big work van. I knew this, I just didn’t want to ask. ‘You idiot,’ he says. ‘Ask next time, please.’ I don’t know whether to thank him or apologise. He seems almost hurt. I promise I’ll ask if there ever is a next time. Of course there won’t be, but why hurt his feelings further?

London: The First Move, day 22

Day 22

Saturday March 13, 2021

Mark:

Our first 13th of the month. Do bad things happen on days of 13? I don’t even believe that Friday stuff, but I can’t help but have a little muse first thing this morning.

If anything, today is a bit of a lucky day. It’s the first day we feel really in any way settled in our new place. All the moving has been done and a bit part of what we think is the first really big part of organisation and cleaning. Sarah’s never really seen this as a permanent place for her, so it’s fair to say maintenance hasn’t quite been top of the agenda so we’ve had it at the top of ours. But today, for the first time, we feel like we have something of our own space. Our idea is to just take that absolute relief at having landed somewhere and do very little. Maybe a little bass and music practice, but very much as and when the time and mood takes us. If we’re to be totally honest with ourselves and you, we fully intend to spend today doing absolutely nothing but chilling and thinking nice things.

With those thoughts and our very newly discovered domestic wonderfulness, we settle down for a simple lunch of soup and bread using the desk just outside the kitchen and next to the bathroom as we haven’t quite got round to fixing proper dining arrangements in here yet. But it all still feels fantastic. It’s a beautiful practically central London day and the vibe is untouchable. What could possibly go wrong?

There’s a little sudden furry flurry of excitement as Sarah comes running through to retrieve Ron, her younger cat who has just run into the bathroom. When that happens, it can only mean one thing. Ron has gone under the bathtub. It’s a frustrating process for Sarah to have to get him out and once she does, she says that the cat is possibly just feeling a little unsettled at having new people in the place. She often seeks refuge under the bathtub, Sarah explains, but she’s apparently been doing it a little more than usual lately. 

So Sarah says that it would be good if we could be extra vigilant for now and leave the bathroom door closed at all times. At least just for now until Ron settles down and hopefully starts to feel a little more comfortable with us. No problem. With that, Sarah goes back into the bathroom, emerges a few minutes later, and then leaves, without closing the door. Well, why should she automatically think that? It’s a brand new thing, right? I kinda notice the door’s been left open but I don’t really think too much of it. I’ll close it. Yes I will. In a minute. In a minute, I’ll get up and close it. No, really, I will. About two minutes later, Ron comes running back towards us and goes, yep, you’ve guessed it, into the bathroom.

Balls. I knew I should have shut that door already. I really don’t want Sarah to know the door’s already been left open long enough for the cat to get back in there. And kinda on our (my) watch. Alright, it wasn’t me who left it open, but I’ve been here with an open door all this time. All two minutes of it, at least a minute of which the door should have been shut. I know Sarah wouldn’t be too mad at this having happened so soon after it became a brand new thing. She might make a little thing of it like, ‘Guys, what did we all just agree?’ and fair enough. But I’d rather avoid even that, just deal with this quietly and quickly, and then make sure we don’t forget again. 

So I go into the bathroom, and there Ron is, faithfully under the bathtub, just two red eyes hovering and staring at me with benign malevolence in the darkness. Yes, she has red eyes. The eyes of the other one are yellow. That’s how you tell these two almost identical white cats apart. I reach in with my hand trying not to scare her, but still trying to make her uncomfortable enough to run out. With my own cat Toffee, who I’ve now sadly left behind with Jenn at the old house, the faintest of movement inside a hiding place is enough to have her scurrying out in fright. Ron is clearly made of sterner stuff and knows she’s perfectly safe in there thankyou very much. I reach further and further in, but she just isn’t having it. She’s now gone deep and I’m almost lying on my belly trying to reach in. There’s a bunch of semi damp rags under here and, as I reach for Ron with my left and arm, reaching round a bathtub support to do so, I inadvertently move the rags away with my elbow. I’ll worry about that later. I should be worried about that now. Very worried. 

Seeing something I haven’t, and very much realising something quite significant has happened that I have no clue of, Ron suddenly makes a dart for it. Great. She’s decided to come out. She disappears behind the support I was just reaching around and that’s it. She doesn’t emerge from behind the support. She just disappears. Down, it seemed like. Did I see that? Did she just suddenly lurch downwards? Surely not. It happened so quickly it doesn’t seem possible. Still not massively overly concerned, I peer in, up to and around the support pole. There’s no cat. She’s simply ceased to be. Just like that. Oh no no no no no. In a split second I realise what’s just happened and how and why. Those rags. They were stuffed into a hole in the floor. That cat, well, she’s gone through it. And is now, very most likely, on her way into the depths of this building. It’s one or two hundred years old and has been knocked all different kinds of ways into different apartments over a substantial amount of years. The walls and floors in between are nothing but impenetrable labyrinths, unseen by human eyes in generations. And I’ve just seen Sarah’s cat, no, I’ve just helped send Sarah’s cat, jump into that black void from which escape or retrieval may well be impossible. Did I mention today was the 13th? Oh balls.

There’s nothing for it now but to tell Sarah as soon as possible what’s happened. When I tell her, the look of shock and panic on her face is total. I don’t know it yet, but this has long been one of her worst fears and now it’s happened. Not yet having really taken it in and not yet fully ready to be rational either, she refuses to believe I didn’t do anything intentionally. I of course had no idea the rags hid a hole but, at this immediately early stage, she’s somewhat hysterical and convinced I pulled them out myself, exposing the hole and allowing the cat to go through it. She does the hand thing and says she can’t talk to me now but I’m not leaving it like this and insist that she believes my truth. Once she’s had a frantic look under the bath for herself, she sees how this actually happened. At the same time I’m also telling her I’m sorry but I didn’t want her to know the door had been left open just two minutes after a very specific conversation about keeping it closed at all times. This is all happening so quickly and is so bewildering. Less than five minutes ago all was bliss and fluff. And now we’re in this total chaos and rage panic. With that in mind I don’t add that it was Sarah herself who really left the door open almost the instant she’d insisted on keeping it closed. Somehow I really don’t think that would help matters right now. Having composed herself a little, but still very clearly shaken, Sarah tells us that this happened to another cat in here five or six years ago. She says that he was gone for two weeks and came back black. ‘That’s hundreds of years of tunnels and who knows what down there,’ she says. Yeah. The reality of that is starting to hit both myself and Maja. ‘Guys,’ she says sadly, pleadingly. ‘Please, you can’t be here right now. I think it’s more likely Ron will come back if it’s just me here. Can you just go to your room.’ Still totally stunned by this wrecking ball that’s crashed into our world, we comply without thought or hesitation. But as soon as we’re there, we look at each other with a realisation which I give voice to. ‘We’ve just been sent to our room.’ Maja nods sadly. ‘This is really not good,’ I continue. ‘That cat could actually die. It might already be dead.’ I’m thinking of so many scenarios right now, some of which I mention, others I don’t. She might never be able to find her way out and could starve to death in there with no-one even knowing. Essentially an indoor cat, she could possibly find her way outside. If she does that, she’ll have little to no idea of how to behave in this car filled central London area. If she survives that gauntlet, I don’t see how she finds her way back to the apartment. Even if she does somehow find her way back, it’s not like she’s going to buzz the downstairs intercom. She has no idea what number apartment she lives in. No. Sarah’s baby, the so-called light of her life, is gone. Disappeared, dead, or at serious risk of death, or with little chance of finding her way back if she somehow doesn’t get/ hasn’t already been killed. I might as well say it now. It will be me that will have killed/ lost her. Happy Saturday 13th.

Where the hell do we go from this? My first thought is that we’re going to be needing Maja’s insurance policy already. After just four days. How can we carry on living here if the cat doesn’t come back? I don’t see how it could be possible. But even if she does come back, that might not be until tomorrow. Or two days, three days, a week, more. How tense will the atmosphere be like in here all that time? No. I just don’t see it.

It’s with all those thoughts swirling round my head that Sarah comes knocking, enters the room and says, ‘Guys, I don’t want you drinking in here anymore. I just don’t.’ Then she leaves. That does it for me. It might seem trivial, but if she’d said at the outset no drinking in the place at all, fine. We could have taken or left it, and we would have taken it. But to let us in and impose a rule like that now, after one incident, I’m really not happy about that. Apart from anything else, what house rule is she going to spring on us next? And after that? My immediate thought is that I suddenly don’t want to live here anymore and I say so. Let’s just move back to the house, however horrible that might be. At least it would be our horrible. Maja says we shouldn’t make any decisions like that in the heat of this moment and she’s totally right. Above everything, we just have to get out to clear our minds for a bit and make sense of all this. Sarah couldn’t agree more that we shouldn’t be here right now. But before we leave, she makes a point of telling us that she’s spoken to a good friend and neighbour about this and has come to realise that it wasn’t my fault at all, that she should have told us about the hole being there, and she totally accepts I exposed it completely accidentally. She also apologises for coming slamming down on the non drinking rule, saying, ‘I’m sorry, I was just lashing out and looking for things to blame, but this is your place and of course you can do what you want.’ Lovely to hear and an equilibrium of sorts has returned. But none of that changes the fact that Ron is still gone and probably not coming back. We wish her luck and leave.

Out on the street, Maja says, ‘Wow. Our first crisis.’ Yes, no other way to put it. It very much is. We walk slowly to Hampstead Heath, all the while trying to take it in but we just can’t. I just say over and over again, ‘I’ve killed her cat.’ I don’t see any way back from this. We talk about the prospect of moving back to the house, which would mean moving back in to live with Jenn which Maja is not keen on at all. The two of them did not speak a word to each other all the time Maja was there and she does not want to return to that atmosphere. Option two is staying where we are and dealing with whatever fall-out that entails. Not a good secondary option at all. We really, truly, do not know what to do about this. The one thing we’re lucky about, Ha! Lucky?, is that the weather is nice. This is Corona, lockdown London. Once you leave the house, you’re outside and that’s it. If it was raining or cold, there would be nowhere to go and have a sit-down in. No cafe, bar or library. Nothing. We probably would have ended up riding the bus or tube just to get out of the weather, but thankfully we don’t have to think about that. Instead, we have the wonderful Hampstead Heath to roam about on. I’ve never enjoyed being here less. But there’s no escape. No matter where we go, nothing can change the situation or the crisis clouds that have now gathered all around us.

We walk around like this for four hours, never quite leaving our dazed, bewildered, slightly scared state. It’s around the four hour mark that Maja says, ‘I think it’s time to go home.’ Home? I suppose it is, but for how long? With foreboding, we make our way back, each step taking us closer to whatever the hell we’re going to find upon opening the door. We arrive at the street and I pull Maja back for a few pep talk words. ‘We’re about to walk into the fire,’ I say. ‘We go in there together, and face whatever we come up against together.’ She nods with defiance. We’re going to front up to this and we’re going to do it now. We pause for a few seconds to individually steel ourselves and then turn and deliberately walk towards a world of doubt, confusion and possible retribution. Chaos, grief, anger? We have no idea what we’ll be met with. But we’re about to put ourselves right in the middle of it all and accept whatever comes our way and whatever that could mean. Our minds are blank. We have no idea of any of this so can’t even see a way to the immediate future, that future being just seconds away and behind one single door. We enter the apartment block and walk up the stairs, heads held high but stomachs brought to a ridiculous low. This is climbing over the top of the trenches territory. We’re in no-man’s land now and any moment the machine guns are going to open up. Will we make it through? At the front door I turn the key and look at Maja. ‘This is it. Let’s go.’

We enter the apartment and it explodes.

‘Guys, guys, did you get my message?’ We didn’t but this is not at all what we expected. Sarah’s happy, jubilant even, that we’re back. She runs out of the main room and calls to us from the end of the corridor. ‘She came back. She came back.’ She’s almost crying with relief as she says the words. ‘Half an hour ago. I sent you a message to tell you. Oh I love you guys. You must have really been through it.’ Oh, we have. Her relief shoots through us like a wave of lasers and we run to her to be enveloped in the hugest of group hugs. Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow. It’s over, it’s over.’ From what we can gather, and no-one can be really certain anyway, Ron never went very far into the hole and so the nightmare scenario of her becoming irretrievably lost in the labyrinth of Victorian architecture never happened. And when she was ready, she just jumped back out again and into the arms of a disbelieving, hysterically jubilant Sarah who is now full of joy and how wonderful she thinks the two of us are all over again. In short, it’s like the whole episode of horribleness ever happened. But me and Maja look at each other and we know. We’ve been seriously tested today. We’ve stared at the fire, held hands and walked, together, right into it. And here we are on the other side. All happy again and harmony in the apartment once more restored. Oh, and while we were out, Sarah and a friend did the underside of the bath and plugged the hole up properly with tiles. So, no more hole, and no more mystery damp rags under the bath hiding a mystery in the hope no-one would one day push them aside while a cat was under there.

London: The First Move, days 24 and 25

Day 24

Monday March 15, 2021

Mark:

Sarah doesn’t have a fridge. She’s vegan and doesn’t use conventional milk so doesn’t really have things around that can go off. Cooking, for her, is mostly a big pan of vegetables and beans and things that just sits there on the stove for whenever she wants it. She’s shared it with us, and told us to help ourselves to it whenever we want, and it really is very good. In fact, this is kind of how the whole experience here is developing. Food is just there for anyone to help themselves to whenever they want. Actually, just about anything is. It really is developing into a kind of communal living right down to the three of us all now feeling comfortable enough to walk round the place naked at times. This very much is not the conventional house sharing situation. Even down to just pretty much wandering into each others’ bedrooms for casual chats. Privacy is very much respected, but if we’re in the ordinary run of the day, whatever passes for ordinary around here, it’s totally fine to wander into any room at any time with or without clothes on.

Fridge. Oh yes. I was talking about the fridge, or non existence of one. Well, me and Maja have decided we would very much like the existence of one. In London, many people, if they can help it, don’t throw anything away. All kinds of items either get put out on the street for people to come and help themselves, even sometimes with electrical items having helpful labels like, ‘This works,’ stuck to them. When we were arranging our room here, there was a big black, kinda broken couch in it that didn’t quite fit the room or anywhere else in the apartment so we put it out on the street. The next day it was gone. A ridiculous amount of furniture and kitchenware in our old house came from the street. Apart from street donating and scavenging, there are also websites where people will post stuff for sale, or also often for free if you can pick it up. I’ve registered with one of these to see what we can get, and yes, I did do it with the hope of seeing a free fridge. That crazy idea stops being crazy today when we do indeed see a free fridge on offer. We make the call and it’s still available and we can pick it up tomorrow.

Day 25

Tuesday March 16, 2021

Mark:

The lady who has the fridge is called Marcella and she lives in Holloway, two to three kilometres away from us. We’ve talked about hiring a car for the job, but I have another ridiculous idea which is that we can take the trolley I’ve used to carry amps all over London in what now feels like another life, and put a fridge on it and wheel it all the way back home. Will this work? I have no idea. We’ve decided to get there, see if the trolley thing works, and if it doesn’t, see what we can to sort out some kind of hired transport from there. We’ve figured that even if we pay up to 50 quid or more for a hire car, or man with a van or whatever, it will still be a lot cheaper than buying a new fridge, which is what we’re basically getting here for free. 

We get to Marcella’s house and she’s delighted to see us, to see that the fridge is going to some people who need and will really appreciate it. We’re also helping her out because she had no idea how to dispose of a fridge. Why it’s being disposed of we don’t quite get to the bottom of, but that’s none of our business. Marcella is lovely and wants to give this thing to us, well, somebody but that somebody has turned out to be us, and we are gratefully receiving. But this is not a little thing. It’s a full on fridge freezer, one of those things that’s taller than the average person. Incredibly, we discover the trolley can take it. Which means that now we’re about to set off and wheel a person sized fridge through a few London neighbourhoods and down Holloway High Street, all the way back home. This means going very slowly with me pushing the thing, totally blind to where I’m going while Maja walks in front, gently guiding me left and right as obstacles appear. The most notable of these is a full sheltered bus stop full of people right in the middle of a London high street that we slowly, and quite literally, have to negotiate our way through. Oh, for a photograph of that. Then, when we do finally make it all the way home, we have to carry it up two flights of stairs. Oh, that is fun. Then, once in the apartment – what a lovely triumphant moment that is – it’s back on the trolley with it for the final leg of wheeling it into the main room to place it lovingly in the corner where it quietly and joyously hums away. Sarah can’t believe it when she comes home and marvels at our resourcefulness, effort and determination at even being able to find such a thing in the first place, and then the sheer force and energy required to get it all the way here. The next day, in something of a celebration, I write a set of lyrics commemorating the event, called Marcella’s Fridge. I really hope we can do something with it one day.

And this really is what we do now. Live life and write about it. In here and in our songs. Or, at least in our lyrics which we fully intend to turn into songs when we finally get the time and space to sit down and really look at full on songwriting. We keep thinking we’re going to get to that, but then something else happens that demands our attention. Songwriting. It really is the thing that happens when you have nothing else to do. For whatever reason that is. Yes, I know, there is the avoidance issue that even some of the most successful have. Sting says he avoids it like the plague and even Paul Simon says it’s never fun. For us, at least as far as lyrics are concerned, we write write write all the time. We’ve taken the David Bowie approach of just writing everything down. All of us, we’re surrounded and blessed by genius. We just don’t write it down enough. Think about it. You don’t sit down at your kitchen table and think, ‘I’m going to think of something devastatingly funny now.’ No. It just happens when you’re with your friends. The same goes for genius observations, and just comments in general. And of course it’s not just what you say, but what your friends say and also what you overhear in the world around you. All. The. Time. But it all gets lost to the ether. Well, we’re going round and trying to gather some of that ether up. Or at least catch it before it becomes so. For this, we have pens scattered all around the apartment and we take notebooks everywhere we go. A conversation on a bus, a daytrip, and chance encounter, an image of London. It all goes in. And what doesn’t I know will stay with us to emerge at some later time. This has led to some bizarre situations. Meeting friends in the street while one of us is walking along head deep in a notebook writing. And in supermarkets while one of us has continued shopping while the other stands deep in thought in the middle of an aisle. Clean up in aisle five? For us it’s write up in aisle six. Just a few sheets of paper and our writing sticks. It’s all we need. Never in my life have I seen notebooks fill up with lyrics as fast as ours have been in the past three weeks or so.

But here’s the other thing. As a songwriter past, I have written plenty of lyrics as pieces on their own, with a thought to using them later but very very few of those pieces see the light of day as actual songs. By this I don’t mean that I don’t try. I do, it’s just that while I usually think it will be an easy, almost lazy thing to do to just put some chord together and sing what I’ve written over them, I almost always end up writing whole new lyrics to what I’m coming up with melodically and rhythmically. But it’s still great of course to have all these lyrics as a resource, and just great that we’re writing full stop. Even the concepts of them, and individual lines, of which I’m certain there are many great ones. Which is another thing. Apart from whole sets of lyrics in those books, we also have individual lines from things we’ve said or heard, and sometimes simply just concepts. As for what we’ll end up doing with them, who knows what Maja’s approach to actual songwriting will be when we get there? And I’m sure I can have a go at some of these, or maybe at least be able to incorporate what we have. But even then, I do write a song and come up with a whole new set of lyrics, well, the well will have been left untouched and its levels will remain constant. Absolutely no harm there.

Maja:

We’re finally off for a little outing. Since it’s deep into covid times, London is in lockdown and meeting people is not really that common. You can’t really go into a bar or anything, so we decide to meet up in Camden and have a couple of beers by the riverside. It’s fun to get to meet Matt, he is a very lively person with a ton of positive energy bottled up in his chest. As we stand in the winter cold, cheeks bitten by the wind, I get to hear a ton of lovely stories. About a city that was once alive. A town that was bursting with musicians, tourists, and the people that used to make out the, until recently, music capital of the world. The city I missed. And my heart hurts knowing it will never be the same again, so I will never get to experience it. The before Brexit and before Covid London. 

But I am happy to hear the stories from the people who were there. By the musicians that made up the tourist attractions that people would travel to see. To hear about playing at the Blues Kitchen, Ain’t Nothin’ But… and of course the 100 hour jam. Who gets to hear that? 

That’s what I think while I let these talkative guys go on and on. Sipping my drink. Enjoying the atmosphere. Of the empty canal next to Camden Market. Where it’s never empty.

London: The First Move, day 26

Day 26

Wednesday March 17, 2021

Maja:

I’m woken up by Sarah entering our room in some state of lovely excitement, bringing me a present. When she woke up that morning, she was a bit chilly, so she got dressed in a jumper. That jumper is an official Gorillaz jumper from their tour a couple of years ago, which lead singer Damon Albarn personally gave out to only musicians and crew. The character on the jumper is Murdoc, the Gorillaz bassist. I’m beyond happy about it. What a way to wake up. 

Gorillaz is the band I’ve been listening to the most this last year, so it’s very fitting. And of course, Murdoc. The bassist. Of course, I play the bass, and Mark is my bass mentor, so what could be more fitting?

Mark:

After a wonderful morning, we’re hit again by reality in the evening as we sit down to really go through visa possibilities for Maja so that she can stay in London. All it pulls up is despair, despair, and despair. The two options we seem to have are by marriage, or something called the global talent plan. We spend three hours forensically going through both, and whenever we feel we can overcome one obstacle in the scores of requirements, we come to another which cannot possibly be met. The whole thing is just looking totally impossible. In fact, we conclude that both routes are deliberately written to set people up to fail. One piece of information in particular that keeps coming up is the need for a sponsor, with no clue at all as to what would constitute as a sponsor, no matter how much we research it.

The marriage road looks like this. 

Maja has a six month visa as it stands right now. She has been here just about a month.

We discover you have to formally announce an intention to marry, and then can’t get married for at least 70 days after that. If we do this tomorrow, that would take us more than three months into the six. But you also have to have a venue booked so even in this hypothetical scenario, that will probably not happen tomorrow. Especially not when you throw Corona regulations into the mix.

Once married, you can apply. 

The application process takes up to two months to receive a reply. That’s five months right there. Oh, and before any of this can even begin, Maja first needs to get a divorce which also has to go through the courts which will take at least another month. If it begins today, which it won’t. So there’s your six months. Minimum. And it’s not even a given that a visa would be granted on those grounds even if we managed to jump through all the hoops and tick all the boxes within the available time.

In a moment of clarity, we decide to solve the Visa problem by deciding we’re not going to depend on it. We’re going to do this by simply not living in the UK. With that we start to look at countries where it’s easier for Europeans to go and live. This leads us to seriously consider a few countries in Asia, South America, to be left for us to look at more closely another day.  

As we’re discuss this and I’m considering an option or two, Maja suddenly stops me cold. ‘Oh, I have an idea,’ she says breathlessly, wild excitement in her eyes. Oh wow. This sounds like it could be something. I exit my train of thought instantly. We’re in a desperate state here and her entire expectant face tells me she’s just about to unleash the magic thunderball that will blast the whole thing wide open. I take a mental step back to allow full space for whatever she is about to say to wash and crash right into. She hits me with it. ‘Will you go traveling in a camper van with me.’ Wow. I didn’t see that coming. But I don’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’ ‘Wow,’ she giggles. ‘That’s a bigger commitment than agreeing to get married.’ Yeah. I guess it really is.

Maja:

I’ve been thinking about camper vans for a long time. As a way to travel around and still keeping my life with me. So why not now? Mark can be in Europe for 180 days a year and I can be in UK for 180 days as well. So we can travel and live that way together. We just can’t work that way, but that is a different problem. Maybe we can solve that in some other way. Only this way, we can stay together. I hope. That’s really everything that matters to me right now.

Mark:

Instantly this has become our fallback option and we’ve now decided not to let the visa thing stress us out at all. If it happens it happens. And even if some circumstances arise which miraculously facilitate a visa solution, we might just follow through with all this anyway. Because, as we talk more and more about it, the whole thing starts to make more and more sense. Almost seamlessly the conversation coalesces into an actual plan for what we really want to do now and what we are now going to do – write songs, tour internationally with them, and write about it.

So far since we met we’ve spoken about kids and marriage. We’ve moved house together. And now we’re committing ourselves to working together as internationally touring, diary writing musicians and songwriters. Can I please remind you, we first physically met less than four weeks ago.

London, The First Move, day 27

Day 27

Thursday March 18, 2021

Mark:

We tend not to talk about Sarah related stuff in the apartment, good or bad. Today while we’re out and about, we agree that while we love the touring idea, we’re not just going to look at upping and leaving as soon as we can. We’ve been given this opportunity of our own apartment based on Sarah needing someone in it and to take off anytime in the next few weeks would be a bit of a betrayal of that. And besides, should the visa situation be sorted, it would be no hardship to stay here in London for a while. I kinda had the same thoughts when I first came to London with that office job Paul had got for me while I was still living in Madrid. The boss there really came through, giving me the job on Paul’s say so and on the strength of a one minute phone conversation with me. Although I was itching to dive into London’s music scene and really start my journey there, I decided to commit to that job for at least six months, maybe even a year, and maybe gently work myself into music at the same time. As it happened of course, it all fell apart after just two weeks which blew all my good will apart. As a friend said at the time, when the hurricane was still at its fiercest, that was the best thing that could have happened to me as it left me free to follow my London path. I had already begun to harbour such thoughts myself and did my best to agree, but damn it was hard to do so.

Maja:

So if I’m going to stay in London, I need a visa. And our lovely friend Sarah is very well connected so she decides to help me have a look at that. First things first, she asks me to write up a CV so she can send that to her lawyer friend so he can have a look on how to make this happen. I do and she has a look and she’s mighty impressed. She discovers now that I’m an engineer and not some kind of damsel in distress that she had imagined. She still sends it off to see if I could get a visa in some kind of way, but the reality is like this, I could get a visa. A working visa. 

So why don’t I just do that then? Honest answer, I am not ready to do that. I am going through a divorce and that has put tremendous pressure on me, so I don’t feel like I could do that right now. 

I might do that later, but also, if you take that route you get stuck in the same job with a lot of terms, and I might want to reduce the amount of time I work to get more time doing the things I value in life such as doing music. And with a working visa I would get stuck in the same squirrel wheel everyone is in, and I am right now dying to get out of. 

I might want to take a freelancing job for some money, or work half time or something else, but I don’t want to commit to working full time right now. I just can’t commit to that.

So for now, I continue to look for a situation to coexist with Mark. And Sarah, with her newfound knowledge of me not being a damsel in distress as she previously thought, is starting to change her attitude about me… 

Mark:

Sarah’s met a guy around the local area called Dee. She had him round the apartment a few days ago for a bit of a social and really liked his vibe and where he seemed to be going musically. He’s into production and rap and she thinks he could be a good fit for us, whatever ‘us’ means. So we settle on a rough rehearsal time – all times are rough around here, and around 6pm, all four of us are in the main room and ready to see what kinds of sounds we can make. Me and Maja have been rehearsing a little by this point and have worked out something of a system for jamming and this is our first chance to try it out. It works quite well and there really is something of a special vibe with the two of us playing together. Bass is all about feel, and that’s exactly what we’re talking about here. We settle on something simple with Maja playing single, steady root notes and me playing grooves and solos over them. Well, I’ve never had such a feeling playing over such a simple beat. All the emotion is in those single notes and I’m able to feed of that and produce some really great feeling grooves that have Dee moving all over the place and singing and rapping like it’s the most effortless thing in the world. This feeds back into what we’re doing and we hit a new level, which Dee takes up to move himself even more and so the cycle goes. As it builds and builds, Sarah starts to sing as well, so we have the two of them really going for it as me and Maja keep things burning here, with Maja holding the full bottom rhythm as I play off the two singers while keeping the groove going for them at the same time. As this continues, as the dual basses pump and rumble, the dancing starts and we feel the start of something really special coming together. We jam through a few more bits and pieces for twenty minutes or so and then stop to collect our thoughts. Sarah has seen enough. ‘This is serious,’ she declares. ‘The power and vibe of the four personalities in this room is just huge. This is on. We all look at each other and agree. Myself, Maja and Sarah already feel like we have a massive collective personality, like we could take on anything and Dee has just come and fitted right into that, while adding a whole new dimension of positivity. Apart from anything else, he loves the vibes and positivity given off by me and Maja, loves the whole feel of the two of us playing bass, and, as a particular fan of bass, really likes the way I play individually. There’s so much more that can be tried as well. This really looks set. ‘Guys, we’re doing this,’ says Sarah. Twice a week, maybe three times a week, in here for two hours at a time, no messing about. Yeah?’ We all look at each other and smile. Yes, it’s on. This is happening. On top of everything else, Maja is now in a band. But there’s more. A member of an international chart topping band has expressed an interest in joining us. But not just that. This is someone from one of Maja’s favourite bands. Sarah tells us about this, but warns us that if it happens, this person might well try to take it over as their project. We look at each other again. No. This is ours. Don’t care who it is, no thanks. Maja leads the charge on this. So now, not only is she in her first London band, she’s now also turned down the opportunity of working with someone from one of her favourite bands. This is all getting a bit surreal.

London: The First Move, days 28 and 30

Day 28

Friday March 19, 2021

Late morning and we hear strange voices in the apartment. We don’t bother to go and see who it is, or what’s going on, but we don’t need to. After about ten minutes, we hear whoever it is leave, and then Sarah comes into our room, barely able to hold onto herself through the tears of laughter. ‘Guys, you’re not going to believe this,’ she says. ‘The neighbours downstairs have just had their ceiling fall in. It has to be because of the bass frequencies and the dancing from last night. We might just have to tone it down a little.

Day 30

Sunday, March 21, 2021

Maja:

I am new in England. I’ve never been to England before and in England they have their dishes they are very proud of. Such as the English roast dinner. So as a welcome, Sarah decides to cook one for us. Sarah loves to cook, but recently she hasn’t had that many reasons to cook living alone and being a vegetarian. So she offers to cook us dinner, a wonderful pork roast with crackling and roast goose fat potatoes. Brilliant, thankyou very much. 

Me and Mark go about our day, having a lovely walk, writing some lyrics, and time flies. As we return home Sarah greets us with the most lovely roast dinner, and it is amazing. Absolutely brilliant. Roast pork with a thick layer of crackling. Yorkshire puddings. The most amazing roast goose fat potatoes cooked from scratch, golden and crispy on the outside with the softest inside you can imagine of a potato. Of course served with roasted veggies and gravy. 

I would have loved to have share this meal with all three of us, but Sarah says that she’s so happy to have made it but would never eat something like this. But that we should enjoy it. So she leaves the apartment to hang with one of her guys and we are left alone. With this feast. It’s one of the best meals I’ve ever had. Me and Mark enjoy it fully and after we put things away, we go to sleep. Blissfully unaware of what will happen next.

When Sarah comes home, she can’t resist having some of those incredible duck fat roast potatoes that she had made, and it just doesn’t sit right with her. They just don’t fit with her new strict healthy living regime so she decides to fast for three days straight to set things right for herself. Not long before we came here, she’d also decided to stop smoking. Other things have gone too, and all good, but now on top of that she’s having a three day fast. It’s just too much. She is trying too hard. This just does something to her personality, making her fragile and unpredictable and ready to pick any argument even if you’re agreeing with her. There will still be moments of fun and togetherness, but all punctuated by too many down moments. This quickly marks the beginning of the end for us here, and no matter how much we try, things will never really be quite the same again.

London: The First Move, day 31

Day 31

Monday March 22, 2021

Mark:

The Lord Palmerston sends out a group message, through my friend and assistant manager Duran, to ask when we’ll be available to be back. I answer I’ll be ready as soon as needed. This is the first sign that the furlough, which I’ve been on since mid December, and which even made this thing with Maja possible in the first place, could be coming to an end but there’s no indication of when that could actually happen which would be nice to know. Alright, it’s supremely frustrating not knowing but I suspect even the company doesn’t know exact details yet so I’ll just have to leave it for now.

There’s more frustration as Sarah tells us we can’t shower anymore as water is now dripping into the apartment downstairs following the ceiling collapse. We have no idea what is going on structurally, but there are some large holes in our bathroom walls, and it seems drops of water are going through them, collecting then dripping downstairs. We are told we have to have just baths from now on. Bugger. Far from ideal, but we’ll have a go.

Maja:

We try to have a bath while Sarah is out. Sorry for not being more grateful with the whole free rent thing, but it’s the most disgusting bath ever. There’s mould everywhere, and you have to sit in the tub trying to get clean. After getting up from the bath the water is black with mould and dirt. It’s making me sick. And apparently I’m not allowed to do anything about this situation. 

Mark:

It could just be that the bath has been filled up to and kinda past the overflow and maybe that’s not the best idea as it seems that’s where everything comes from, and I’m sure Sarah doesn’t have baths in this black stuff so maybe we’ve done something wrong. But no. Not ideal.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 32

Day 32

Tuesday March 23, 2021

Mark:

Wow. There have been a few brief re-openings of the bars but today incredibly marks the one year anniversary of the announcement of the first lockdown in the UK and here we still are. But it’s also fun(?) to note that yesterday was the day we got the message that we would be opening up again, again. 

Meanwhile, our daily experience really is going up and down. It goes up this morning as Sarah stakes another claim for best housemate in the world by bringing us breakfast in bed this morning. And I mean the full real deal. Bacon, duck eggs, toast, tomatoes, and beans. And of course, obligatory by law when providing an English breakfast, steaming cups of tea which keep coming as required. 

We get all that down us, chill a little while longer then, with the apartment’s milk supplied depleted courtesy of Sarah’s breakfast teas, pop across the road to pick up some more milk. Almond milk, mind. It’s really lovely and sunny and we are very well fortified so we feel like staying out and getting a bus into town. So, back at the apartment building, Maja waits outside while I run the milk upstairs. We’re just going to get the first bus that comes along.

Here it is and we see it takes us to Victoria, which means I get to surprise Maja with a walk down what looks like a nondescript street along a mysterious barbed wire topped wall. What’s behind that wall? She discovers when we round a corner and there it is. Buckingham Palace. A walk from there, then up the mall to Trafalgar Square and once there, we simply have to go round that corner to give Maja her first look at The Marquis, sadly closed, but there it is. Also round this area, Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus up a little to Carnaby street and then a general walk around. A few hours of this and we’re almost done, but then just as we’re thinking about taking a bus back home, we come across Fortnum and Mason. Means nothing to Maja, but I’ve never been in here and I really think we should, so we do. What we find is the most spectacular food and drink shop, complete with its spiral staircase going down to the most colourful fruit and veg display I’ve ever seen. Through all this we find the whiskey and brandy section and we simply have to have a look through all that. This is kind of like a mini Harrods. Like a Harrods but just a big food and drinks shop which happens to have a bottle of brandy that goes for 23 thousand quid. Shop assistant Andrew takes us through their ranges with Maja really keen on finding a good peaty whiskey. She settles on a high range bottle of Ardbeg which you would definitely not find in your average supermarket. After this, it’s onto the cheese section where she finds a perfect Gruyere to accompany a bottle of red wine sometime. 

Then it’s onto a sunny bus home. This really feels like the first day in a long time where there have been no events to bring us down at all. Everything is just fine and stress free and here we are having a lovely walk round Londontown. 

The London Diary: The First Move, day 33

Day 33

Wednesday March 24

Mark:

Sarah continues the breakfast theme and wakes us this morning with toast and tea. We will really have to be careful to not get too used to this.

She tells us she’s decided that if we can patch the shower up so that it definitely, definitely does not drip anywhere, we can use it. This is something of a relief so we get to work. We go out to the local hardware store and buy what we think we need to do a patch up job. With different types of cut out parts of bin bags and shopping bags and a lot of tape, we fix the holes around the bath where water has been leaking through. It isn’t pretty but it sure looks effective. It looks like we’re back on.

Maja:

Well. As long as I don’t do anything permanent I should be able to find a way of making the shower usable again. So I drag Mark to the hardware store. I’m going to fix this. I’m not allowed to actually fix the cracks with grout – that has to be done by the council that refuses to come – so I’ll have to find a solution that works without doing anything permanent. 

I pick up three of the cheapest available shower curtains, and some tape. With which I fully waterproof the bathtub area so you can shower. As I finish, it is once more usable, and no water will fall on the floor and drip to the neighbours. This is a big accomplishment for me. Only one thing. The bathroom is left looking like one of those rooms that people use for murders in horror movies. 

Mark:

Through this job we’ve discovered a couple more things that we could get on with. One of them is to maybe replace the lino in the bathroom. This seems like quite a big change so I think it’s prudent to ask Sarah if it would be OK. She’s almost offended by the question. In a weary tone, bizarrely managing to snap at the same time, she says, ‘Mark, I’ve told you. This is your place. Do what you want. I couldn’t care less what you do. Stop asking.’ Despite the tone, I guess there’s a kind of love in that response.

We haven’t heard at all from Sarah’s lawyer friend, but she says he can be a bit like that and not to worry about it. Then, standing in the centre of the main room, she says, ‘Hang on a minute.’ She closes her eyes, goes into deep concentration mode and faces her head towards the ceiling. When she opens them again, she looks at us with total confidence and says, ‘I just asked my guys and got the answer back. You two will be fine. Maja isn’t going anywhere.’ Two words. O and K. When I speak to Maja about this later, she rationalises it, saying that what Sarah is actually doing is concentrating and going on gut feeling and claiming, or actually believing, that that is coming from some other place to give her a message. 

Since it was declared that we would rehearse two or three times a week, no messing, we haven’t yet managed one follow up. There’s an attempt at it tonight with a rehearsal declared, but with no explanation, we later learn it’s been cancelled. Oh well. We take the opportunity to instead take a bottle of red wine up to Hampstead Heath to sit on our favourite bench on the top of Parliament Hill and look down on the beautiful and spectacular city centre view with some Gruyere as a perfect accompaniment. A wonderful escape from what is increasingly feeling like a chaotic, ever changing and unpredictable lifestyle. Oh yeah. Dee apparently lives with us now. We’ve not been working with him so much but he has been spending more and more time here. That was cool, but then today Sarah announced that he’s moved in. Fine. We guess. Whatever she keeps telling us, it is of course her place and she can do what she wants with it, but what’s happened to the thing where she was never going to be here and it was to be our place to do what we wanted and then she was going long term travelling and leaving it all to us? This is increasingly looking like not being a thing. She hasn’t even been away once yet. Instead, what we’ve experienced is being told a whole bunch of times that she had plans to go away, then those dates have come and gone and have been completely unobserved with no mention of any kinds of plans or cancellations. Again, totally her prerogative of course, but it is all a little strange, slightly unnerving, and starting to veer ever so slightly off course from the brochure message we received at the start of all this.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 34

Day 34

Thursday March 25

Oh dear. Sarah’s on the unpredictable path again. She comes into our room today, pretty much unannounced – fair enough; that’s how it goes in this communal, walking round the apartment, into each others’ rooms naked, food sharing thing we have going now. But it’s far from a friendly visit. Out of nowhere she says she doesn’t want to work with us anymore. The reason? We read her some of our lyrics yesterday and she’s latched onto one line, totally misunderstood it and put her own interpretation on it. She’s saying that it was our subconscious way of telling her we didn’t want to work with her so she’s deciding now that we won’t. Er, what?

The offending line is. ‘With others it’s not the same.’ This is a line comparing our relationship with the way we, or most people, are with other people; external stimuli are usually required to hang out – TV, drinking, music, video/boardgames, sport, whatever. We’re saying in that song, and it’s quite clear, that for me and Maja to hang out with each other, we often require absolutely no external stimuli or diversions. Remember that first five days? The two of us and the ceiling. No TV, music, reading or alcohol. Nothing. There’s no-one either of us has ever spent time with that way. With others it’s not the same. Most people need activities to do when they hang out. Even the best of friends. We often don’t. With others it’s not the same. Without even talking to us about this, Sarah has decided it means that we work well when it’s just the two of us, but when others become involved it’s not the same. Meaning, in her world, we think that when she’s involved it’s not the same. Who would deliver a message like that in such a subliminal way and expect it to be understood? This is totally twisting words we’ve actually written down and read to her. This is not the last time she will get angry with us for something we may or may not have been thinking. The difference is that this time we’re able to persuade her that she’s got it all wrong. She eventually leaves the room having been convinced of that, saying she loves working with us and hopes it continues and continues. Well, that’s what she’s saying now. But working with us? We’ve done one 20 minute rehearsal and had every other rehearsal since then cancelled. But at least we’ve averted a bad atmosphere. For now.

Maja:

An artist comes over to leave some art supplies and Mark says hello. I spend the time singing. Afterwards, we talk a bit more to Sarah, who has been talking to a female friend of hers who is currently living in Scotland. This friend wants to live in London and Sarah says she’s offered her a room here so she will probably move in with us. So now, from being offered our own apartment, it’s gone to Dee has moved in – although we’ve yet to fully see evidence of that – to someone else might be moving in. At this rate, even if Sarah ever does go away saying it’s ‘our’ place, at any given time we feel there could be a knock on the door and it could be someone we don’t know saying they live here now.

We feel a little unsettled about all this, but are still resolved to make the most of the opportunity. We go back to our room and decide to practice some easy singing. This is where Mark puts on some music, plays along to it on the bass and I sing along to what’s playing. First we go for a couple of Jack Johnsson songs, then we try Laleh which Mark totally doesn’t get, then we go for RHCP. I’m used to singing RHCP, so when I do that, I can finally get some power in my voice and it feels more like it used to. We’re trying to make out some parts of Californication and feeling pretty good about it when Sarah comes into our room, saying she wants to film this great vibe we have going. But all we’re doing is singing along to famous songs. This really isn’t something we want recorded and put out there. This is also totally destroying the flow we’d got into. But OK. Mark decides to go for what she wants and says A1 – we’ve developed a few shorthand codes for playing together. A1 is a particular type of simple groove that I play and then he solos over it. So I have to grab my bass, tune up and find a groove. It doesn’t go well and it completely breaks our flow. I end up just playing A. Mark tries to solo over it, but his concentration after having his own momentum broken as well isn’t quite having it. We both feel pressured and frustrated over the situation and we have to tell Sarah it just isn’t happening and to please not use whatever she’s just recorded. She says, ‘No problem. Deleted.’ Great. Then we try to get back to what we were doing before she barged in, but with the frustration in the air, it just isn’t happening. We look at each other with a sigh and just know. So we stop, take a shower, and go on a walk just to refresh our minds. It’s lovely outside, but with the frustration in the air, it just doesn’t feel nice. All we can think is that we had finally started doing something and it felt good, and then that feeling just got stolen from us. And put onto virtual videotape. That, along with everything having changed from what we were originally told when we first moved in, has really taken the shine off the whole thing. Exactly where is this all going?

The London Diary: The First Move, days 35 and 36

Day 35

Friday March 26, 2021

Mark:

Early today we go out on another of what Maja calls our panic walks, or at least crisis walks, as we continue to take in the thought of yet another person being offered a room here in what we were promised was going to be our own place. What is going on? We were told that this would be ours. Fine, Sarah can do what she wants with her own home, we totally get that. But please don’t promise something that isn’t going to be delivered. Rent and deposit free? Damn yes. That was unbelievable enough. With that, we would have completely accepted that other people would be around as well. But that’s not how it was sold. We were told she would be travelling and we would have it all to ourselves. For years, she’s even said on a few occasions. 

This is all starting to feel like it’s kind of falling apart around us. No, we definitely did not sign up for this.

Downstairs is leaking again. What we did should have been good enough, and Sarah thought it was, and even agrees that it looked like we’d blocked all the possible leaks. But there’s so much going on with these walls it was clearly impossible to catch them all. She requests we stop using the shower again. With that bath we had the other day, just not happening. We will sort this. There has to be a way. Maja comes up with it as she has the idea to first buy more shower curtains. We do that, and then return to put them up around the whole inner bath area. So now we really have created a fully sealed, totally unleakable shower. A skeptical Sarah comes to have a look and loves it, which is a big relief because it’s one thing not being able to shower, a whole other thing to think of the prospect of that bath we had the other day.

The fact that we have a shower again feels like something of a new start. Our space isn’t quite as much our own as we thought it would be but it could yet get there. However, our time is our own. With that we come to a conclusion and make a decision. We decide to cancel time. No more clocks. We’ve realised we really don’t need them.

Day 36

Saturday March 27, 2021

Mark:

This cancelling time thing is seriously cool. We really are going about our day with absolutely no idea what time it is, which is incredibly liberating, if a little frustrating when you inadvertently catch sight of a clock – which makes the big one in the main room a tad inconvenient. I’ve been on furlough for a while now, on and off but even so, and have generally got up when awake, slept when ready to sleep, and ate when hungry so time hasn’t been a massive factor in my life for quite a while. But now, we really are working to the rhythm of our own clocks with no idea even of how long we’re doing a particular activity. It should be acknowledged right now that this whole thing is made easier, or even possible, by the fact that we’re very central within London; just about all public transport, apart from the latest or earliest of hours, comes within ten minutes, usually within five, so there’s no need to check or observe timetables. Even night buses can be as little as 15 to 20 minutes apart, especially when you’re looking to get back to Camden from Trafalgar Square. Easy.

Well, it is all easy until Sarah knocks on our door at 1am and says, ‘You guys have cancelled time and that’s all really cute and fun and all that, but the people downstairs haven’t. Did you know it’s one O’Clock? And you really are being a bit too loud.’ Oh sorry, we really didn’t have any idea. OK. Fair enough.

We might have to think a bit more about how to do this. We conclude that if it’s light we can assume we can be as loud as we want, but if it’s dark maybe be a bit more mindful.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 37

Day 37

Sunday March 28, 2021


I made a full English breakfast for me and Maja yesterday while Sarah danced and sang in the main room. This will be the backdrop to the greatest disaster in the apartment yet.

First, Sarah’s been doing a lot of dancing and singing in the apartment lately. Brilliant. It’s added a greatly energetic vibe and we’re very happy to be living within it, even on a day like yesterday when she dominated the main room with it. Great. Go for it. We’ll stay out of your way and do our thing, inspired by your thing. And it really has worked so much the other way with Sarah saying we have inspired and lifted her mood so much just by being here and by being us.

So yeah. Yesterday. Full English breakfast. Me and Maja eating that in our room at our window overlooking our part of central London. Just brilliant. The kitchen, as you know by now, is tiny. So Maja walked back to our room and past Sarah while I carried on in there while Sarah danced away to her music while checking out her form in the full width mirror. On the way, Sarah caught Maja’s eye through that mirror. The wrong kind of eye apparently. I’m about to find out just how wrong.

It begins to unfold first thing in the morning with a disaster we already had in waiting that we had no idea of

I’m up and going to the toilet and Sarah, all warmness and blessings, calls me in. I ask her to hang on, pay my visit, then come back and pay my visit. Sarah’s temperature has dropped about 10 degrees. She is no longer all warmness and blessings. She’s all fine with me though, she assures me. Oh yes. All fine with me. It’s Maja that’s the problem, she says. What the hell is this? ‘I received some feedback from some friends this morning about your video,’ she says. What video? What friends? ‘The one I recorded in your room a few days ago.’ Oh. OK. Not a great start. Didn’t we agree that was to be immediately deleted? Didn’t Sarah herself say it was deleted? While she was standing there holding the phone in her hand? Well apparently not only had she not deleted it, but she sent it to people. By all accounts, very influential people. Her people. That she says she’s been hoping to work with with us. Maybe even get funding from. Yeah, this has been a thing that has been mentioned a lot and I have absolutely no idea what it means. ‘They’ve come right back and asked what the hell I’m doing letting that negative energy in my house. They’ve told me I should not have that energy in my house.’ You’re talking about what exactly? I don’t say anything. Sarah calls up what she now knows as the clearly offensive video on her phone and shows it to me.

‘Look at that,’ she says, zooming in on Maja’s face – Maja, who at the time was being suddenly filmed deep in concentration and in some mild distress while she was struggling to come up with something on the spot to jam. And yes, feeling intruded on while we were very much in the middle of something. ‘Look at that scowl. That negativity. In my house. People have seen this and said this is a bad vibe that I should not be having or allowing in my own home. And do you know about yesterday morning?’ I do not know about yesterday. Yesterday Sarah danced and we had breakfast. Please tell me about yesterday. ‘It was the same again. Maja walked past me as she came through the room and looked at me in the mirror like I was some piece of dirt or something. Just a look of aggression.’ I have no idea what Sarah’s talking about and I just know that if I mention this to Maja, she will have no idea either. I’m in a state of disbelief. To deny anything would just be to admit there’s a problem. To apologise would be to admit there’s a problem. To say I’ll talk to Maja about it would be to admit there’s a problem. To tell Sarah she’s imagining it all would cause a problem. If I say nothing, I’m kind of admitting it’s a problem. I say nothing. So Sarah continues to talk, confirming that yes, there might just be a problem here. ‘Maybe living here isn’t the best thing for you guys,’ she says matter of factly and suddenly with a hint of sympathy in her voice. Maybe you’d like to think about looking for somewhere else.’ She speaks that last sentence with something approaching compassion, like she’s doing us a favour. It’s not kicking us out. It isn’t even remotely asking us to leave, but it’s the first time anything like this has been remotely suggested. And once a conversation like that has popped up, it really doesn’t go back in the box very easily. Where exactly? Wasn’t getting this place the impossible? For the first time I have the realisation that Maja was totally right to keep the rent up on her room in the house to keep it open. But surely no. We won’t be needing that. This, whatever the hell this is, can be worked out. I gently tell Sarah I don’t really understand and that I’m sure things are all good. She smiles sweetly and says, ‘I’m sure they are darling. I’m sure they are. Yeah. You go and talk to Maja.’ I’m grateful for that hint that the conversation is over and I leave Sarah’s room and head back to ours. Which, until very recently was Sarah’s. Until she gave it to us and she came into this tiny room to sleep on a mattress on the floor.

Back in bed and Maja of course wants to know what I was speaking to Sarah about. Is there a problem? Hmm. I really don’t want to cause a panic here so I say that things are fine, but there may just be something of a misconception that could be cleared up. Maja’s listening now. I tell her about the mirror incident. Get me. Incident. Damn. She’s stunned. It wasn’t something she’d even thought about. I’ve already decided I’m not going to mention the video. I think that on top of everything else, that could really cause a blow up so I’m keeping that to myself and Sarah. For now. Maja says she’ll go and talk to Sarah now about whatever this misunderstanding is. Before long, I hear them both giggling away and talking affectionately. By the time Maja returns, it’s clear that all is sweetness and light again. But for how long?

We get ready without any real hurry, then decide to go out for the day. We have no particular destination in mind, just catch the first bus that comes along. We take that bus to Kings Cross and then just get the first bus we see from there. Which goes to Elephant And Castle, quite a long way south of the river. Us north Londoners don’t cross the river too often – the South Bank doesn’t count – so this is a rare excursion into unknown territory. It’s just cool to be out and to take in some different streets and scenery. That area also boast the Imperial War Museum. It’s closed, of course, but the out front display is still there – an enormous double field gun, which we take time to marvel at.

After a few aimless wandering hours, we see a bus heading to central London so hop on that. From Trafalgar Square we walk all the way back home, but when we arrive at our street we just don’t feel like going in. So we carry on walking and end up going all the way to Holloway, where we continue walking aimlessly until eventually we see a bus coming towards us and heading to our area. Yeah. It’s time to go back. We’ve walked over 11 miles today.

The London Diary: The First Move, days 40 and 41

Day 40

Wednesday March 31, 2021

Mark:

A reminder incase it’s needed, that with all bars in the UK being shut due to Covid, I’ve been on furlough from the bar since late December and so all the time Maja’s been here. And my furlough pay has been generous enough so I’ve been quite comfortable. Today I discover I’ll be starting back at the bar on April 11. This happens in the form of a text message for us to check the rota. I go and see mine and it covers two weeks of around 30 hours a week. When I tell Maja this she just goes quiet. I go and make a cup of tea, and when I come back I encounter a very pensive looking Maja. Something is clearly up. I don’t even ask, I know she’ll start talking when she’s ready. When she does, I’m totally stunned.

‘I don’t want you to go back to the bar,’ she says. What? How the hell is that supposed to happen? She reads my unspoken question and continues. ‘I have enough money for both of us to get by for a considerable amount of time.’ How long, she doesn’t exactly know but says that can be worked out. But she’s done the emotional maths, saying that whatever the hourly rate of the bar is, she’d feel much more value in that time if it was dedicated to her, to us and to what we’re working towards. As long as I’m not here, whatever I might be contributing financially, I won’t contributing in time. And time I can spend here, she’s decided, is worth so much more than whatever bar company economics has decided my time is worth there.

She really doesn’t like the idea of me being away for whole days or evenings, and is doubtful of how much time, focus and energy I’ll be able to bring to our projects when I’m not working. She’s done the equations and feels they really don’t add up. I start to speak, but she asks me to please not allow pride to come into it. ‘I know you feel it’s important for you to pay your way,’ she says, ‘But you will be. In the way I’ve just described. And I know you want this too. Please don’t fight it and just say yes.’ What can I do? I’ll see what I can do. But really, this is huge. Enormous. Game changing. And an unbelievable show of faith in my abilities and simply a show of faith in us. Apart from anything else, I’ve just been asked to quit the day job to concentrate full time on music, and been told the resources are there for me to do that. And also to spend this time with, and working with, the girl I love. But more. It’s all but been demanded – in the very best usage of the word – that I do exactly that. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted? And so so much more that I could never have thought of. I mean, there’s a beautiful, practically identically minded bass playing girl in the equation as well.

Day 41

Thursday April 1, 2021

As yesterday’s chat settles, a budget gets done today and we estimate we can last 10 months with nothing else coming in. However, if and when the live music scene picks up again, with the reopening of the bars, Mark can be available for any gigs there. We have something of a plan, and it involves making what we do, whatever that really is, our full time job. Our life. Our everything. From now.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 42

Day 42

Friday April 2, 2021

Me and Maja are aware that, as bad as the past year or so has been for society, we have all that and the subsequent lockdowns to thank for everything. I totally get that’s a controversial view given the pain, suffering and just pure inconvenience that has been caused everywhere, but really, it breathed us into being and has continued to breathe us to be. It was Covid and the resulting furlough from barworld which gave me pretty much 24/7 availability. And it’s this availability that allowed me to be there on the phone whenever Maja needed me while she was still in Sweden. And then I was able to continue to be around all the time when she got here. If I hadn’t been so available, our initial phone chats would never have the happened in the way they did, and I probably would never have even got to the part where I said ‘You could come here,’ let alone be in a position to deliver on the kind of support she needed in making such a move, both in the week before, and in the weeks after.

But as the resurgence of Covid has given, so its apparent regression always threatened to take at least a little away; our time together, doing what we want at any time of any day, has often felt like a bit of an illusion with a call for me to back to work and day to day reality always hanging in the background as an inevitability. Now that call has come, Maja has instead decided to turn the illusion into our reality.

When I tell Sarah of what we’ve spoken about and that I’m going in today to quit the bar job, she’s ecstatic and full of admiration for us taking this momentous step.

After being frustratingly unable to yesterday, I get hold of Moni, the bar manager, today, and arrange a meeting of just the two of us for this afternoon in which I will announce I’m leaving. Moni’s massively intrigued as to what I could have to say. I have a thought, which I have of course shared with Maja, that I will be asked and expected to honour the posted two week rota, although I also expect I will be given the opportunity to cover myself for as much of it as possible. Which means that any arranged cover will have to be organised by myself. So, my rota, my business. Do the hours or get them covered. However, as mine is a supervisory role, I can’t just blanket offer my hours out to anyone, it has to be a bit more considered than that, so not quite as straight forward as it might seem. I sit down with Moni in the bar and drop her my bombshell news, telling her about myself and Maja in the process, what comes back is exactly as I described above. What also comes back is a lot of happy thoughts from Moni about what’s happened and how things have panned out. And now Moni even goes a little further, as she offers to cover some of my more managerial type duties if I can get suitable people to fill the rest of those days. This gives me much more leeway, so as I said the other day, I’ll see what I can do. I think this arrangement will see me doing about half of what I currently had. But who knows? I might yet cover the whole thing. And it’s not like I have the deadline of April 11 to do this; any day after that could be covered a day or two before, so even if April 11 turns up and I still have a full complement, so much could yet change. 

I also say that, although I’ll be leaving, Moni can leave me on the rota if she wants, to call on me should I be needed in a real pinch. She really appreciates that but fast forward a few days later she tells me she’s checked this out with the higher-ups and I actually have to formally resign. This is because if I’m kept on the rota but not working, I’ll continue to receive furlough payments and the company has decided that is just not on. I hadn’t thought of that. Fair enough.

Once all the practical details have been covered, me and Moni continue to have a lovely personal chat as I fill her in with more details of what’s brought all this about, and I leave with her very best thoughts. Time to go home and tell Maja about all this. The process of me leaving barworld has begun.

Maja is delighted to hear me declare: ‘I just quit the bar job.’ Then of course I have to fill her in on how it’s actually going to happen. But no matter. It’s done, and I’ll take the days off I manage to fill and happily do the days I don’t. But when it comes down to it, I do genuinely enjoy bar work and have grown to love and feel a great deal of pride in the Palmerston, so I really do want to do a few more days in there. It would actually have been a little bit sad if it had just ended without ending. I’ve spoken many time the previous Diaries about the benefits of bar work to a musician trying to get on the ladder while still needing a regular settled income, and the Palmerston, and Moni, really have fit into that model of giving me enough hours to get by while totally respecting my need for flexibility regarding gigs.

But with today’s chat done, what we’re doing has now become truly real; there’s always been that reality check that all our time to ourselves is a Covid/ furlough granted illusion with the call of the bar and the real world there in the background. But once this next period is done it will no longer be an illusion. Our time really will be our own. But with that, we’ll have the responsibility of making it work. Which means financially. What we’re doing, at some point, has to become viable and self sustaining.

So, with me fresh from the bar talk, me and Maja have our first business meeting. Which is planning for how to really decide exactly what our thing is and how to monetise it.

What we do very much conclude is that, while we have to fully acknowledge that Brexit is not very helpful for us and accept the reality, we will not be restricted by it. If we have to get round the new visa situation, we will. We’re just not sure what that means yet. 

Apart from that, it’s acknowledging that, with our songwriting and diary writing in tandem, we have a music and writing career now. Which means we have to work out a way to really practically go forwards with it. Basically, how do we generate income and make all this actually real? First, we know that this will be no quick fix. But what we can do right now is come up with an actual plan of where we want to get as a first base and set ourselves in motion to achieving that.

The plan looks like this. 

Maja to complete Maja’s Diary – and me to edit it for English, and then get it on a public forum.

The same for Mark’s Diaries, although mine already have their public forum but they still need to be finished as we begin the process to merge what we do as we go forward with one joint diary.

Related to the above, we have to decide on what actual day The Diaries will begin. Will our own prospective stories end on the same day? How will they physically merge? We’re really almost there with how this will happen but not fully decided. There’s time for that. As long as we know it’s on the think about list.

As for the music side of things. we’ll need to get at least three full original songs ready for the package

Then there’s the thought of the presentation of our own, as yet untitled diaries. Whether this will be with a synopsis with teasers, extracts, we have no idea. But something to give it a good presentation within the package.

The presentation part of it will be incorporated in our website, which we will clearly need. Again, we’re not too heavy on the details of either just yet. But really, the overall idea is to present the three or four songs we will have, then both diaries, especially the parts where they start to merge towards the ends, then our joint diary. 

We don’t really come up with a truly solid idea yet of how this all gets monetised.

We both bring different things to the table in how to hopefully develop all this. I have my media background and network of London music contacts, while Maja of course has her vast knowledge of the internet and how to really utilise that

We may choose to look at agents or other kinds of companies for gigs, beyond what could generate ourselves, and then there’s how to get this thing into an actual book form. No idea how we want to do that, but it’s now on the table as a tangible goal to aim towards. 

Our professional flow of obligations now looks like this

Play music and write songs

Which creates opportunities to 

Have interesting experiences and live life

Which creates material to

Write diary

Monetise this. Somehow. Gigging and publishing are the main ballparks we’re aiming towards but really, the bottom line is generating the raw material, the bedrock of which will be our songwriting and performing. Without our own music to back up what we’re doing, which also has to viably appeal to an audience, there is no story and therefore no project. We absolutely must write songs and perform them well.

Within that, we have to develop our feel for playing together and really, to reconnect with our own instruments and musicality which have both been greatly neglected for the better part of two months. We decide to ease into this by identifying songs that are in our ballpark in terms of playing and singing. Oasis is high on the list for that, along with Kate Bush and Red Hot Chilli Peppers. 

That’s it. We have our plan. Where to go, what we need, how to do it, and what to do about it all right now.

All this new reality is coming at a very opportune time; just as we’re taking this time as our own, to develop as we decide, for the first time, we’re about to have the apartment to ourselves for a whole weekend. Sarah is off on a walk of spiritual discovery, from Salisbury to Stonehenge. As me and Maja conclude our first business meeting, Sarah returns to the apartment from her latest errand just in time to pack and go. While she’s doing this, she breaks away for a few minutes, curious to see how my thing went earlier on. She’s beyond thrilled when I tell her. This is it. The end of barworld is in sight. ‘Oh, I’m so proud of you guys,’ she says. ‘You’re taking your destiny and making it your own. You can’t ever do more than that.’ ‘And if I ever need to go back to the bar, the manager said I can call and…’ Sarah cuts me off. ‘Don’t even think about that. You’ve made your decision now and done something about it. Only be thinking about moving forwards now, not backwards.’ So that’s her position pretty clear. And yes, she’s right. If you’ve got a safety net you’ll be tempted to use it. She finishes saying, ‘Guys, as I go off on my spiritual journey, I love what you’re doing. And taking this huge step and commitment towards it is just so inspiring.’

After this brief chat, there’s just time for time for a group hug while she congratulates us again, and we wish her all the best for her odyssey. I think the feeling between the three of us right now is the best it’s ever been and we wish her nothing but wonderful vibes for her trip. Then she’s gone and the apartment suddenly falls silent as this scene of hopeful jubilation hangs in the air. It’s now Friday afternoon. Until sometime Monday, this place is ours.

Maja marks the occasion by claiming full rights to the kitchen and making lasagne. Cue Liam. I’ll pick you up at half past three/ We’ll have lasagne – Digsy’s Dinner incase the reference is totally lost on you.

I must have the official record reflect that that lasagne is great. 

The London Diary: The First Move, day 43

Day 43

Saturday April 3, 2021

We wake to an apartment in which we are alone and really take it in. Sarah has stressed over and over again that this is our home and that we should do with it as we please. Things have even calmed down with talk of different people moving in. Dee certainly hasn’t for some reason, and the general feeling has veered towards Sarah deciding she wants to come good with her promise after all. Now, it feels like this weekend is a bit of a dress rehearsal for when the place actually becomes ours. After a wonderfully relaxing morning, me and Maja settle into our room and into our large corner window overlooking the city. Sunlight is streaming in, creating the most spectacular workspace. It is here now that we will create, write and rehearse. We also plan to supplement that by taking ourselves over various parts of London, and indeed the wider country, to do the same. We get to it now. A lovely joint writing session as we remind each other of the details and minutiae of various events, and then a really chilled little rehearsal as we continue to shake off the cobwebs of singing and playing. Yes. This is how it was supposed to be. Panic walks are a thing of the past. We’re on our way now. This feeling of liberation greatly inspires our thoughts as we exchange messages with Sarah throughout the weekend, both voice and text messages. We have our thing going on, and she’s on her wonderful, liberating spiritual walk. The connections and good wishes between us are at an all time high. We love encouraging her to keep going and she loves every idea and any random thought that emanates from either of us.

It’s in this spirit of getting things organised that Maja decides it’s time to rearrange the narrow hallway so we get on it. This includes sorting through the rack of clothes we’re brushing past all the time and moving the rearranged and tidied rack into the mostly unused front room. Surveying the finished results, we think Sarah will be delighted.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 44

Day 44

Sunday April 4, 2021

We have to re-engage with time today because we have plans with Cris, and Maja’s going to have her first London car outing. This is a trip to Crystal Palace with two friends of Cris who I also have a great relationship with – Rob and Jade. Crystal Palace is an area in south east London named after an actual crystal palace that was almost unimaginably large when it was constructed in 1851. However, all we have of it now is ruins as it was destroyed by fire in 1936. Instead, we have the site markings along with a few surviving steel supports and ornate stone staircases which mark where the entrances were. And all around it, a large and beautiful park which is our destination for today.

We meet Cris at a nearby street to be picked up in his oversized and very comfortable car which is practically a van, and this drive takes us through some of the most exclusive areas of London and eventually – an hour and a half eventually, I had no idea – to Crystal Palace where we meet Rob and Jade. This is a little of an emotional reunion for me as I last saw them around 18 months ago when we all used to work together on building sites that Cris was in charge of. In that little period when I was so busy with bass gigs I had to quit my evening bar job and go get something in the day so that I could be available for the relentless schedule of rehearsing and gigging with five different acts, one of them the metal band Wild Child, fronted by Cris. So the four of us know each other quite well, and into this comes London newbie Maja who is warmly welcomed and embraced by Rob and Jade. Indeed, as the day progresses, I find myself more and more walking with Cris and Rob while the two girls walk a few paces behind us engrossed in conversation like old friends.

We meet by a housing estate in our respective cars, and then drive onto the site itself. As we start to walk through it I suddenly realise I am in a serious memory lane. I had totally forgotten about this. I used to come here every week in a whole other life. My second job in journalism was as the main writer and editor of the centre pages entertainment supplement for a series of 11 weekly local newspapers all around south east London. I was the goalkeeper of the paper’s five a side football team and we played in a league right here. As we walk across a high walkway, on our left we have the site of the football pitches we came to every week. I stop, caught in feelings of totally unexpected nostalgia and remember those days. Everybody else stops too and we hang out here in the sun for a while, while making tentative plans and fetching ice creams from a nearby shop. Below us is an interesting site and cool addition for the day. Remote control car racing round a mini formula 1 type track and it’s clear these guys are serious and really know what they’re doing. We watch this, enthralled, for something like half an hour, then we continue onwards.

After a while of walking through the grounds, at times in open, cultivated fields, at others through dense, enchanting forest, we come across a large open air street market. It has so many stalls selling food from all over the world and, as disparate as our group of five is, we’re practically guaranteed to find exactly what each of us wants in a place like that. So we go in and go food hunting, meeting up again on a hill overlooking the whole place.

Fed, watered, and all content again, we set off for another meander and wander, this time heading towards the ruins of the palace, where we can truly see and appreciate the dimensions of what this thing was. It’s a slow, summery, lazy walk and once through the grounds we make our way back to the cars to say goodbye and head on home. But Cris has one more thing on his mind as we set off. There’s a route we can take that will see us go past the site where Marc Bolan was killed in a car crash. It has become a shrine to his memory, visited by people from all over the world. Now it is about to receive another international delegation from Italy, Sweden and England. 

All through today, and over the weekend we’ve had a voice message thing going back and forth between ourselves and Sarah, including during our little excursion today. Relations between us have never felt so good and it’s really cool to be able to encourage her along in what she’s doing, and to hear how she’s getting on. Along with the bar decision, us finally being able to get our freedom and time to do what we really should be doing and jumping into that, everything feels like it’s really slotting into place after a very difficult and stressful period. Of course we don’t expect the difficulties or stresses to stop and other tests no doubt await us, but it truly truly feels like we’ve found some blue sky and green grass to rest and work in. And, with Sarah’s love, support and hope, along with her beautiful chaos, we have constant inspiration and motivation.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 45

Day 45

Monday April 5, 2021

Mark:

Late morning, early morning, we have no idea. We’re back to cancelling time again. But somewhere in there we go out house shopping and buy a few bits and pieces that Sarah has been really wishing she had. Like a really cool set of knives that the kitchen desperately needs, and all in their own knife block. We also buy household items like washing powder and cat food. We’ve really got into that; as we’re paying no rent, only covering bills, we’ve been buying more and more things for the house to help out with this as much as we can. And we love buying things for Sarah, like these knives which we’re thrilled to have found. We were hoping to get out and back before she returned, but she beats us to it. Just. We’re about 10 minutes away when we get a lovely voice message that she’s returned, had an amazing trip that she can’t wait to tell us all about, and that she just loves the changes and improvements we’ve made to the apartment while she’s been away. We’ve been doing little things almost constantly, often with Sarah helping as well. But I guess when you’ve been away for a few days, little changes each day add up and become even bigger, even more visible changes.

We enter the apartment, all proud with our purchases and eager to hear from Sarah and to show her the latest few goodies we’ve found. I go to the bedroom to get a few things put away and organised and Maja goes through to the kitchen. When I leave the bedroom to go and join them down the hallway, I immediately sense that things are not right. No. Things are very wrong. There is no joyous laughter, only quiet protestations of innocence from Maja. What the hell is going on? I walk down the hallway and hear Sarah saying, ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me but I was brought up to not do things like this. It’s just not something I would do. If you were brought up different, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know. Maybe this thing just isn’t supposed to work out. I don’t know how you guys feel.’  Maja looks down the hallway and catches my eye. She looks bewildered. I speed up my walk and get in there as quickly as I can to lend my support and find out just what this could possibly be about.

It’s the rack of clothes that we went through, tidied and moved. For all the talk that this is our place, we can do what we want with it, to the point of being agitated when I checked a few times if we could do this or that, Sarah is now furious that we took her at her word and went and did this thing unsolicited. Yes, right to the point where she says, yet again, that things might not be working out. Here we go again.

It’s fair to say that as soon as this conversation is over we leave the apartment for yet another panic walk. But there is something different about this one. Now we think we really should leave. In the past, especially in the early days of all this, we spoke about not letting Sarah down and taking off on our travels if we thought we were in a position to do so. There’s no talk of letting her down anymore. If anything, we’re feeling let down. Massively. Things are really starting to feel fragile, like they could totally burn at any moment. We’re now talking about having to get ahead of the situation before it takes control and gets ahead of us.

Well, we were already thinking about going off and touring or at least starting somewhere else abroad, although we had no idea where that would be. We decide the time has come to start doing something about that. Why leave here, go to another house in London, and plan to go abroad from there? Might as well just cut out the middleman and go for it. Not to mention the difficulty of even finding another place in London in the meantime.

My first thought, I tell Maja, as we tramp these familiar streets, is that we should call Rick. We might just be able to stay at his place in Madrid. It would only be a temporary solution, but it would be a significant move and, if he’s up for it, we could do it almost immediately.

We get hold of him and he tells us the timing isn’t great so that really isn’t an option. No problem at all. Oh well. With Brexit and all that, it probably wouldn’t have been an option anyway. But with that, he jumps straight into telling us about Thailand and how that could be something for us to think about. He knows people there on the music scene and is confident we would be able to hook up with them through knowing him. One of the guys was in an earlier, Thailand version of Drunken Monkees, the band I was in with Rick in Madrid. So he would almost be a colleague. Rick is convinced we would find somewhere to stay if we told him he could make a call or two on that, and we would also have an almost instant network, or at least an instant opportunity to get in on the network. We really get into the idea of this during the walk and call, both of which go on for well over an hour, possibly reaching two.

As soon as we get back to the apartment we’re on it. I’m researching people’s experiences and seeing what steps have to be taken to go, and what to do when you arrive. In the meantime, Maja is taking care of the practical things. Less than five minutes after starting, Maja urgently asks me to take a look at what she’s found. A perfectly affordable hotel type setup with a pool right in the centre of Bangkok. Yes yes and yes. This could definitely be a place to land. It would give us a destination and, from there we could start to look for something more settled. It’s Monday now. We could get ourselves sorted here and be on our way by the weekend. She doesn’t even hesitate and immediately starts to look at flights. We are really doing this. If she can get flights sorted now, she’ll get onto the hotel online and book us in and that will be that. We’re moving to Thailand this weekend. This is really happening. But we check ourselves just a little, allowing for the reality that, with Covid still very much top of the agenda all over the world, these are not normal times and it’s not so easy to just up and leave as it might have been four or five months ago. So, while she’s planning the practicalities of the move, I’m looking at travel restrictions, both as far as the UK is concerned with being able to book foreign travel, and how policy currently is regarding Thailand.

Oh damn. Maja’s face falls with mine as I start to discover restriction after restriction. First, the UK has banned all travel. We didn’t know that. But then we look at Thailand and see they’ve banned travel from the UK. We’re already on this flow and we don’t want to stop now. So we flip ourselves on the traditional dime and start to consider other countries. Countries outside of Europe and therefore outside of the Brexit bubble. Central America, north America, Asia. We go and look at the official government websites of every country we think could work for us, and one by one they get crossed off our list of possibilities for the same reasons as Thailand. We’re seeing now that this really is not an easy fix. More than that, we just can’t see how it can be fixed at all. 

We can’t go anywhere in Europe. What we thought would be our international alternatives have all been smashed off the table. Maja’s visa for the UK will run out at some point so she won’t be able to stay here and I won’t be able to go to Sweden. And I think we can rule out help from Sarah’s lawyer friend on any of this at this point; we’ve not even had an acknowledgement of the initial email. More immediately, we were already looking for places in London before Sarah handed us what we thought was a lifeline and we know how difficult to impossible that will be. And moving back to the old place? Well, that’s a big no no no. 

We feel trapped. With that, we give up for the night. We’re exhausted and very emotional. Despite the tiredness, sleep comes hard and is uneasy.

The knife block is still unopened in our room. We’ll be keeping this for ourselves. Where it will eventually be getting unpacked, we have absolutely no idea. Has anyone seen that impossible list?

The London Diary: The First Move, day 46

Day 46

Tuesday April 6, 2021

We do not feel remotely like doing anything creative today. Even if we did, we just don’t want to be around the apartment. Sarah seems to have forgotten all about yesterday and is being very jolly and loving towards us. Her attitude seems to be, ‘I said my piece, it’s all over and we’re all good now.’ Which is great and cool that things can be said and you move on. It really helps to keep the air clear and lets everyone know where they stand. Brilliant. But this schtick is really wearing about as thin as we can take it. It’s constantly like, ‘Ignore me, it’s wonderful and I love you guys, it’s all good,’ followed by, ‘It might not be working out,’ followed by, ‘Ignore me, it’s wonderful and I love you guys, it’s all good.’ The feeling has just become, and has been for a while to be fair: When’s the next one going to happen? After every crisis, we calm down and we’re like, it’s OK. We’re good here. Everything’s actually fine. And then we catch ourselves and say something like, ‘Yes it is. Until the next time.’ As we know by now, there will always be a next time. Until, and if, Sarah comes good on her initial promise of jetting around the world and leaving the place to us. But that promise seems to have just quietly and gradually slipped away. Unless things really do calm down and we all make it to May 1, which is when she’s decided she’s going to The Congo to do humanitarian work there. Great. And yeah. That’s really going to happen. You’re going to have to let me know. Does sarcasm come across very well in black and white? I’m really not sure. But yeah. Congo. You go for it.

So we’re still a bit emotionally knocked out by yesterday and not at all feeling like doing anything creative so we push ourselves out of the place. I’ve got a little trip planned which I’ve been meaning to show Maja for a while and this is the perfect day to roll it out.

It’s a walk I would recommend to anyone visiting London and, indeed, many people who live in London because the truth is, many people who live in London don’t use London. But then, one can have some sympathy for that when you see the prices for tourist attractions. They are not priced for locals. They are priced for people who may be in London one time in their life and it’s taken for granted that they have enough money to think, screw it, I’m here once, if it costs the better part of 20 quid to go down a slide, then fine. Yes, that’s what it costs to go down the twisty slidey thing in Stratford, east London. Or the London Eye. I’d love to go on that but £33, don’t think so. I’ve been on plenty of walks round London, seen something really interesting, thought it would make a wonderful addition to the day, then discovered it cost north of 50 quid. So no. London is not made for Londoners. But this walk definitely is. 

We just take a bus into the centre and onto Tower Bridge which is a worldwide destination in itself, with the Tower of London on its north side. But we’re really here today for the southside. Apart from offering views of the other side of the river and the spectacular city buildings all the way down, this route also takes you by City Hall, then immediately past HMS Belfast, an imposing battleship moored right at the dock. Further down and you meander through an outdoor bar and street restaurant scene and right past a spectacular replica of The Golden Hinde, Sir Francis Drake’s 16th century flagship. A little further on and you’re back in time again, this time to the 17th century for a walk past the reconstruction of Shakespeare’s Globe theatre. Not far past that and you’re at Millenium Bridge, a beautiful pedestrian bridge which takes you right in the direction of St Paul’s Cathedral which sits right at the end of it. Cross that bridge and, if you want to continue east, you’re in the direction of Holborn, Soho, Covent Garden and Mayfair. But by then, you might also be a bit walked out. We go a little further, then get a bus back home. However, when we get close to home, we realise we really don’t want to go in. So we set off on another walk, this time all the way to the end of Holloway kinda like we did the other day. What we’re practicing now is home avoidance and we’re almost limping by the time a bus just happens to stop next to us at a bus stop and we decide it really is time to go home.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 47

Day 47

Wednesday April 7, 2021

Mark:

Somehow there’s still very much a sense of fun in the apartment, although I’m starting to feel it’s a bit strained. An outside observer wouldn’t have a clue though. All they’d see is Sarah and Maja being best friends, as I look on and see them merely playing at being best friends. There’s a manic energy in the place as Sarah constantly performs her new song and dance routine. She also asks me again if I’ll be ready to practice some bass with her later on. I say of course I will. I won’t. Almost everyday for around a week she’s been telling me we’ll do a rehearsal. I’ve got myself all ready for, it made sure to get back in touch with the repertoire, then it’s been cancelled, or simply just not happened. I’ve given up being prepared.

But anyway, who needs bass and vocal rehearsals when one of you could be dressing up as a giant chicken? Yep. Sarah’s chicken costume arrives in the mail today and she can’t wait to try it on. Cue more hysterical scenes of, ‘We’re all best friends here.’ Then, costume on, she decides to go one stage further. She’s going to go out to the shop. Dressed as a chicken. Of course she is. Folks, that’s how wacky and zany we are round here.

Later in the evening, things have calmed down. The fun has slowly seeped through the walls but we’re still all friends here. No hard feelings and all that. Let’s talk. Frankly.

We sit around on high stools in a triangle in the main room and it’s quickly and quietly agreed that we should move on. As and when we want to of course. No pressure. But it’s started to feel like it lately with Sarah asking us when our big move is going to happen. This has begun to feel less like friendly interest and more like a hint. She wants her apartment back. Fair enough. It’s hers and for her to do what she wants with. We tell her we’ve been looking at options and, although we could possibly just leave and go, it really doesn’t look that viable. We tell her we’ve looked at a lot of other countries and it all looks complicated due to corona. ‘Oh that’s rubbish,’ she barks back. ‘Corona’s a scam, it’s a hoax.’ You know, have that viewpoint if you want, but saying that won’t help when a borderguard is telling you you’re not coming into the country. No matter how much we try this argument, no ice gets cut with Sarah at all. ‘If you want to go somewhere, just go,’ she says, voice rising to shrill. ‘Don’t let Corona stop you. That’s pathetic.’ ‘Yeah, but try telling that to someone when…’ I give up. You can’t argue with this.

One of the things we have decided is to stay in the UK until the world is ready for travel again. The UK’s travel ban is set to be lifted on May 17. We could wait and see how the world’s changed by then. We’ve been thinking we could stay here as long as we wanted as long as it was clear we had a plan to move on when it was possible but, without saying it out loud, it’s quite clear Sarah is thinking of us being here for just another two weeks max. ‘There’s loads of places round here you could go,’ she says breezily. Hint hint. Been there, done that. There isn’t.

We finish the conversation very amiably with all best wishes raining down on us from Sarah, but we really do have to start thinking about a very real plan of moving on. And very soon. We return to our room and have a chat about things for a while. One of the topics we touch on is Brexit with Maja having suddenly developed a new curiosity of and how it works with Ireland and the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic. She starts to ask a few searching questions. ‘Ireland is in the EU, right?’ ‘Right.’ ‘And Northern Ireland is UK right?’ Right. ‘There’s no hard border between them and people from Northern Ireland can go to Ireland and live there?’ ‘Right.’ Where’s she going with this? ‘Well, Northern Ireland is UK, so if people from Northern Ireland can live there, can’t anyone from the UK do the same?’ Oh damn. Lightbulbs everywhere. Before I’ve fully realised what she’s getting at she goes right for it. ‘Couldn’t we just move to Ireland?’ I’m hit by the sudden realisation that she really might just be right. 

Right. If you’re from the UK or Ireland, or are familiar with either or both, you can probably skip this next bit or skim through it. But I know there will be readers for whom the issues and geographies of the UK and Ireland, not mention Brexit, have held little significance, so I feel some kind of potted explanation here is necessary. To be fair, Maja is still coming to terms with the fact that there are four countries in this country – England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, all centrally governed from London in the UK, but each with their own parliaments. The latter of these countries shares an island with The Republic of Ireland, from here on to be referred to as Ireland. Northern Ireland will be referred to as Northern Ireland.

When the UK left the European Union, for our purposes, we’ll say for various political reasons it was decided to keep Ireland more or less as the one trading entity it had been, and it was also declared a common travel area – CTU. This meant that the peoples of the two countries could continue to come and go without hindrance as they had before. This means that, with Northern Ireland being UK, this CTU also extended to the rest of the UK; many Irish people live and work in the UK and vice versa. And of course, we share, or at least use the same first language. OK, Ireland does have its own language, but you know what I mean. We’re starting to get a little excited now as this really begins to take shape in our minds, as I hope it is now starting to take shape in yours. We research a little deeper and come up with the answers we thought and hoped we would come up with. Maja is European. Ireland is still in the European Union. Maja can live and work there. I’m in the UK and have lost my previously easy European living and working rights but, with the CTU, I can move to, and live and work in, Ireland. Maja looks up from her latest mini research project as she realises she’s negotiated the last hurdle. ‘This is it,’ she says. ‘We can move to Ireland.’ Wow. For the first time, it feels like we might actually have reached a solution. At any rate, we said we would not be prisoners to the visa situation. We now seem to have found a way to completely break free from it.

The London Diary: The First Move, day 48

Day 48

Thursday April 8, 2021

Mark:

Sarah comes into our room this morning as we’re waking up and all’s nice and chilled with a lovely morning vibe. Almost like we’ve all got our apartment mojo back. Full of fun, she tells us a little story about herself. One of those little self deprecating tales of comical disaster. Towards the end of it, mid laugh, her face suddenly turns to stone. She looks at me and says, ‘Stop thinking that.’ What the hell am I supposed to say to that? ‘I’ve got powers,’ she says. ‘I know what you’re thinking and you can stop it right now.’ Oh dear. This is not good. Yes ladies and gentlemen. We have reached that stage. The one where you don’t even have to say anything anymore. We are now actually being accused of thinking the wrong things. It’s kind of an irrelevance, but I really wasn’t thinking anything. Just enjoying the story. I guess that’s what you get these days if you happen to catch Sarah’s eye the wrong way, kinda like Maja did the other morning. If you’re now being accused of thinking something you may not be thinking, on top of almost everything you say – even totally positive stuff – being twisted into being something you didn’t at all mean, any kind of communication becomes impossible. All I can do now, as I lie in bed and she stands over us, is wait out this horrible misconceived, awkward misunderstanding and hope she eventually gives up and goes away.

We realise now that this particular mindset just isn’t going to stop. It had started to become almost impossible to say anything to Sarah without it being taken the wrong way. Now it’s even become impossible to not say anything as well. What can you do with that? After she’s gone, me and Maja look at each other and quickly agree that we really do need to take control now and look for something else. The time for hoping this situation will stabilise and all will be OK has passed. It just won’t. In the same breath, we agree that going back to the old place with the two of us living in that tiny room with Jenn living directly below just isn’t an option. But the rent is still being paid so it still exists for us. But no. Just, no. But it still does exist. Just saying.

In any case, this apartment is no longer the place for us right now so once more we go out for no other reason than we have to get out. The difference this time is that we’re totally cranking up the hunt for a new place. We’re starting to reach desperate town. With what’s just happened, it’s time to just get out. We would still rather jump straight to another country and we’ve been speaking about that a lot, but at the same time, we just need another place. Now. And if that’s to be somewhere in London again while we sort out the real move, fine.

We go up onto Hampstead Heath and I start to call friends to see if they have, or know of, any rooms going. This turns into quite a nice catchup with a lot of people as I let them know a little of what’s been going on – only the good stuff of course – and I get to hear how they’ve been doing. Some of these people I haven’t seen or spoken to in well over a year. I’m turning nothing up though, although the word is getting out and people are saying they’ll keep an ear and an eye open. But again, this is still pandemic, lockdown London. Not total total lockdown London, but there remains very little fluid movement of the kind that would normally see a room shake itself free sooner or later.

Then I call my producer friend Alex, who also works as executive chef at a pub in Angel. I played a few studio sessions with as he put together his pop/electronica album. Like everyone else I’ve spoken to so far, he doesn’t know of anything but he does tell me he’s having a party tomorrow night in one of the apartments above his pub. He says he was going to call me about this some time tonight anyway. A lot of people I know will be there and he’s doubling it as a video shoot for one of the songs I played on. Well, chicken and egg here. He’s arranged the video shoot and, with various friends helping out and acting in it, has decided to turn it into the opportunity for a party. He asks me to bring my bass too as he might want me to film a scene with me. Cooler and cooler. We will be there. Me, Maja and bass.  

I make some more calls for a while but still nothing concrete turns up. Oh well. We’ve got the word out there. Time to head back. It’s now sometime between six and seven.

We get to the apartment and Maja decides she wants to keep walking for a while. No problem. So we continue, this time heading into residential London rather than the deep green of the wonderful Hampstead Heath. All the while of course, we’re talking about our experiences with Sarah and our feelings about them. Then we start to talk about the day she came into our room and started filming. Then Maja says, ‘I’m really glad she deleted that video.’ Oh dear. It is true that we asked for that and that Sarah immediately agreed, but I think it’s time the truth was told here. I take a deep breath and dive straight in. ‘Maja, the video wasn’t deleted. Sarah sent it to people and got a negative response back from it. I’m sorry I never told you but…,’ I don’t get any further. Maja has already started to react and it’s stronger than anything I could have imagined. She’s hyperventilating and nothing I can say is going to help right now. I guess I should have just told her at the time, but like I said then, I really didn’t want things to blow up. Well, something had to give, and here we go. It’s blowing up. Immediately we head back to the apartment. This is happening. Now.

Maja:

We go back, pack a backpack each, and a suitcase with duvets and pillows, and our basses and head out, but not before a confrontation with Sarah.

Mark:

Oh yes. That confrontation. Neither of us is in the mood to speak to Sarah right now, and certainly not to have the moving out conversation. So we think we’ll just go in, pick up some backpacks and leave with overnight stuff and come again and maybe have that chat. We’re in and out with backpacks all the time anyway so we figure it will be inconspicuous enough. But somehow Sarah is able to read the situation exactly for what it is and lets her deep offence known that we’re trying to just secretly sneak off. We have to come back again over the next day or two anyway to clear out everything else and that certainly couldn’t be done in secret so no-one’s sneaking off anywhere. We just didn’t want to have any kind of big deal thing going on tonight. Of course I don’t get to say all that and of course it wouldn’t cut any ice if I did. It really is just best to just let Sarah say her thing and get out of here. But no. If there was any chance of us leaving on good terms, that’s not a thing anymore.

But before any of that happens, and before we head back to the apartment to have that confrontation we were hoping not to have, I call Cris to tell him we’re coming back. What I’m really thinking is that he can help us move with his super huge seven seater car. But he has a bad reaction to the fact that we’re moving back, saying this would not be good for Jenn. No it would not but we really have nowhere else to go. And anyway, we’re planning on moving to Ireland soon so hopefully it’s only going to be a temporary thing. He finally comes round to the idea and says, ‘Yes, I understand. I see you have no choice. OK.’ Great. It’s not like we needed his permission, but at least some kind of weak blessing which has been granted, even if someone reluctantly and hesitatingly. But there’s no way I’m going to ask him for car help now. I feel that would put him in an awkward, in the middle, situation.

Then, in all fairness, I have to call Jenn just to give her the heads up that we’re moving back in. She is stunned, but ends up with some kind of resigned acceptance.

Back to the old place it is and we enter quietly and back to the tiny room without encountering anyone. Straight away we start to look at apartments and rooms to try to get ourselves out of here as soon as possible. Nothing fits any kind of realistic budget and, as we talk it through, we conclude that yes, we’ll get onto planning that Ireland move, and then make it as soon as possible. So let’s lie low here. I’ll work my notice at the bar, and then we’ll leave. Two weeks, give or take, and we’ll be on our way. At least, that’s the plan. 

London: The Last Two Weeks, day 49

Day 49

Friday April 9

Mark:

We’re exactly where we didn’t want to be. Living back in what we’re now referring to as The Carrol, after the name of the road. It was my home for six years and I didn’t really see any real circumstance in any kind of mid to even long term where I would have been thinking about leaving it. Well, I did leave it, accidentally and overnight, and now I’m kinda accidentally and overnight back here again and it’s the last place I wanted to be. I wouldn’t expect Maja to, but even I instinctively no longer refer to it as home. It is just The Carrol. We’ve opened up the single bed to make it into a double, which means it now covers the entire width of this tiny room – it literally touches both walls. So, as you enter the room, immediately on your right you have the wardrobe, in front of that and touching the bed is the cake trolley with a lamp on top of it. And to the left and up against the wall at the end of the bed you have our basses. All of which means the patch of floor we have available to us between the door and the bed is about the size of a large toilet mat. Not even luxury large. And of course, below all this is Jenn. Who is simply delighted that we’ve moved back in. Of course she isn’t, for anyone silly enough to have believed that. Sorry if that describes you but I guess that means you just have to face it now. You’re silly. Oh damn, we really need to be moving out of here again. And soon. Forget the fact that we now have a plan to move to Ireland as soon as possible. This is going to be beyond awkward and beyond cramped. Right now, all we’re thinking is to rest up and go to Alex’s party, aiming to arrive around seven. Then tomorrow or maybe the next day, we can start to get our things out of Sarah’s and move it into here, all the while trying to see what kind of other place to stay we can shake out of the trees.

I go outside and make a bunch of phone calls to friends to see if anyone has a heads up on anything, but the most we get is people saying they’ll be on the lookout, and a possibility of a place in Clapham for way over double our budget. When I say our budget is probably less than half of what’s on offer, I get laughed off the phone. Yeah. I’m not convinced London is the answer. And that’s a shame too because, as much as I had no thoughts of moving out of this house, I had even less of ever leaving London, a city I’d wanted to be able to live in again for so long before the opportunity to do so actually came up.

As we talk more about this, we start to think that, maybe rather than try to move somewhere else in London when we’re ultimately looking at leaving the country anyway, we should just stick it out here and make the big move when we’re ready. With that, we agree that I should continue to do the two weeks I’ve committed to the bar as notice, while making plans to move to Ireland as soon as that’s done. This thing will probably take around two weeks at least to plan and execute anyway. So why throw away all my goodwill and reputation, built up over three years, for the sake of leaving a few days early? After all, we still have a lot of research to do. All we know is, somewhere in Ireland. Beyond that, we have no house and no leads on one, and no car, and no leads on one. And we still need to get ourselves properly sorted out here. So no. Bar or no bar, this is not something we’re going to do overnight. So yeah. I’ll do the two weeks as planned while making a plan, and then, all things going well, soon after that we’ll leave.

I phone Paul for a bit of a chat and an update, and a little about what we’re thinking next. ‘Bloody hell Mark,’ he says. ‘You two should be on Oprah.’

Yeah, there still seems to be a lot going on. I think we really want to forget about all this, just have a nice time at the party, and worry about tomorrow tomorrow. Approaching 4pm we’re just lying down taking it easy, not intending to move until we have to. Maybe a couple of hours of just total chill time. Sounds lovely. Doesn’t happen. This plan lasts until 4:30pm when I get a voice message. It’s from Sarah. We listen to it together. Oh dear. She’s telling us that if we haven’t got our stuff out of the room today, it will be taken out. She says it will be put into the hallway, but whatever, it doesn’t sound good. We need to go. Now. But how? We have no car and I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking Cris to help us out because he’s not at all happy that we’ve come back and plonked ourselves right above Jenn again. Fair enough. Which is why I won’t put him in the position of having to say no. Then I remember Rafael who was so put out when we didn’t ask him to help us move to Sarah’s. It’s worth a call, but I’m kinda asking him to meet us now now.

I put the call in. He’s happy to help, but really not sure he can help now. Maybe tomorrow. No, I say. Really sorry, but tomorrow’s no good. It’s now or I’ll say thankyou very much and we’ll just do it ourselves. Oh damn this feels bad. He says he’ll call back in a few minutes. This is a tense time. Nothing we can do between now and then. But he does call back in a few minutes and says he’ll meet us there in ten but he’ll only be able to help for an hour or so. Thankyou thankyou thankyou, but I tell him we’ll be there in more like 15 because it will take at least that long to walk there, and that’s if we leave this very instant, which we will pretty much do. Fine.

As we approach Sarah’s we’re keeping a curiously nervous eye out to see if any of our stuff has been thrown out onto the street. Thankfully, it hasn’t. But there’s behind the apartments as well, with a whole garden area back there. I go round and have a look. OK. Nothing out here either. That’s at least a little relief. Now to go and wait for Rafael. We really don’t feel like encountering Sarah before we have to so we decide not to wait out front, preferring to go to the end of the street, on the corner with the main road. Every now and then, I walk out into the road to see if I can see him. After five minutes or so, here he comes. His van is painted in his company’s colours and has a bit of a strange roof for carrying particular materials, so it’s very distinctive. I thank him very much for coming. No problem. He goes and parks up outside where I tell him the apartment is and me and Maja go in.

We reach the front door and, although we have a key, I think it’s only right to knock rather than just walk in. To be fair, Sarah is someone who, if she has an issue, says her piece and mentally moves on and, outwardly at least, she’s pleased to see us and is welcoming, although she does make a point of demanding we take the fridge as well, because she doesn’t want it. Fine. I walk in first. I don’t see what looks the two girls exchange behind me. 

We walk into what we’d started considering home until last night and thankfully, everything is as we left it. To make things a little easier on Maja, who really doesn’t want to encounter Sarah too much, I opt for the heavy lifting. This means I’ll be taking everything downstairs to the van and Maja can concentrate on packing. And out on the street, Rafael says I should just drop everything next to the van and let him pack it. We have a few backpacks and a whole bunch of shopping bags. Plus, there are quite a few things that can just be taken down whole, such as the two bass amps. We get started. It does take an hour or so and is without incident or any kind of harsh words. Only best wishes from Sarah as we reach the end and give her her key back. The one bit that could have been sticky is getting the fridge out of there, but those things are a lot lighter and easier to move about than you’d think, even down stairs. Van all packed and we give our eternal thanks once more to Rafael and we’re off. Once at The Carrol, the job does take on a bit of a seemingly never ending quality as we first empty the van, which is parked about 40 yards from the house, and then get everything downstairs and back into the room, which Maja is organising. This sees us both carry everything from the van to the house, piling up the front garden and then the street, and then I start to take everything downstairs, bit by tiny bit. Yes, including the fridge, which means we now totally have our own fridge and freezer in the house which is quite handy. 

Unbelievably, from receiving the scary message at 4:30, by 7:50pm we’re on the bus to Angel. It was horrible having to do everything like that, and in the mad dash way in which we did, but now we can go to the party with the whole move behind us and tomorrow is completely clear. Yes. So much better that it’s all done.  

And this party will be Maja’s first indoor London social where she will meet what I consider to be my central London crowd made up of some of the coolest and best bar staff and bar managers in London. Basically people I met while me and Dan were playing the scene as pop cover duo The Insiders. And yep, when we arrive, there they all are. Not everyone, but a really good representation. Kristoff, Alex, Tom, Jess, Shane, Molly, Jess, and a few other people. They’ve been busy recording the video for the lead single off Alex’s album which I’ve done a few sessions of bass recording on, including the song in question today. For that reason he asked me to bring my bass along, which I have, so that he could possibly film a scene with me and him. We don’t get around to that tonight. Instead, we arrive deep in party territory and just get stuck in. Oh, these guys love Maja and she’s instantly the centre of attention and having a great time. So the pubs aren’t open yet, Maja’s never been to a London pub, and now here she is at a party above one. And yes, we’re going to stay the night. Of course, it turns into a very late one.

London: The Last Two Weeks: days 50, 51 and 52

Day 50

Saturday April 10

Mark:

Alex’s apartment sometime late morning. A few guys have hung around and we have a wonderfully relaxed and fun morning having a full English breakfast and playing Uno until we decide it’s time to leave around 3pm. We’re very close to the financial district and the old, original London Roman wall so I suggest we take a walk to that. This is a very strange archaeological site of Roman ruins right in among the super modern London banking buildings and a perfect setting to round off a very eventful few days as we meander through the rough, broken stone and haphazardly kept vegetation between it all, trying very hard to picture a London that began and ended within these ancient walls. 

Day 51

Sunday April 11

Mark:

Wow, I have been on furlough for a long time. This whole saga, as far as I’m concerned, began on March 23, 2020 when the bars closed and I went onto furlough payments, which was 80 per cent of salary, based on average wages over a given period. My payments really were quite generous and perfectly adequate. The bars reopened on June 23. On November 5, with covid on the rise again, a second lockdown was announced so the bar closed and into furlough I went again. Then we went into farce territory with bars opening again on December 2 with the government desperate to ‘save Christmas,’ only for them to close again on December 21. Me and Maja then spoke for the first time on the phone on December 26.

A quick covid bar furlough timeline looks like this.

March 23, 2020, bars close

June 23, bars reopen

November 5, bars close

December 2, bars reopen

December 21, bars close

And so it has remained. Until tomorrow, April 12, although one caveat of bars reopening is that they can only serve outside and everything has to be table service so this will be fun. It also means that bars with not so much outdoor space will not be reopening, so only a partial return to form anyway. As for the Palmerston, well that has six tables out front and a whole massive garden out back, so we have plenty of capacity. It will just be a bit of a stretch doing table service only for those two wide apart areas.

Today we have a staff meeting at the bar where I announce to everyone that I’m leaving in two weeks. This is of course met with shock, and a why and what the hell, and then quite a bit of happiness and well wishing as I tell a short version of the story. Next, the important bit. Who can take shifts off me? The big problem is that a few people who went home to their native countries haven’t come back so we don’t have a full complement of staff. I’m very disappointed that I only manage to get two days taken off me. Oh well. OK. I start tomorrow. 

Back to tell Maja the news and she’s equally disappointed, but I make it clear that, as the days go on, I may well be able to arrange cover for more shifts. But really, it’s no big deal. I can just do these two weeks, cover what cover, do what I don’t and then we’re back as you were.

With the bars opening up tomorrow, that means no more lockdown London and Maja wants one last look at the epic emptiness of it, so we take a trip out. First to Kings Cross where I suggest an overground train. I have a very good reason for this as I’ve wanted to show Maja this for a while. This train goes to Blackfriars station which I’ve said before is quite possibly one of the most stunning train platforms in the world. The whole thing is a bridge across the River Thames, quite close to St Paul’s Cathedral, so offers incredible views all across the city centre on both sides. Of course, by default, it also takes us into the city, so this is where we get off for one last walk through empty lockdown London. Maja’s London. There is a real feeling of loosening in the air so it’s not quite as iconic as it has been, but still. These streets are definitely not bustling. And there’s a moment on the way back, as we approach Farringdon in zone one, that we’re able to look all ways on a crossroads and not see a single person. So yes, we did get what we came for. We end up walking all the way back to King’s Cross where we started and get a bus back from there. Which is weird, as it means I’m back on the old and familiar 214 to The Carrol. 

Day 52

Monday April 12

Mark:

Oh wow. I really did not see this coming. The bar is traumatically busy. Just non non non stop. And it’s only me the boss, Moni, on. It really is one of the busiest days ever. It’s like a Sunday and looks like continuing this way. I’ve never seen this, not even on the busiest of Sundays; even she has a moment where she just leans back, half sitting, and says, ‘This is just too much.’ Moni says that. I never thought I’d see the day, but here it is. With everything having been closed for almost four months, I can totally understand the feeding frenzy which means that no-one can just walk in here and claim an outdoor table. Anyone who’s been remotely clued up has seen this coming and has booked. You can see the bookings on the system and I’ve never seen anything like it. And it’s already booked exactly like this everyday for the next ten days. And you just know that the days and weeks after that will end up being the same. The relief me and Moni have when Kitty comes in to start sometime mid afternoon. But then, poor Kitty, as she realises what she’s walking into. But with three of us on now, it feels a whole lot easier.

I finish at five and Maja comes by as planned. The gardens are all full so we do what customers can’t and go upstairs to the function room where we share a burger and chips. We could get a beer and actually be inside a pub with one when no-one else is allowed to, but we decide to go home and get some stuff done instead. I like this idea because all day at the pub I’ve been wanting to get home and research what it could take to live in Ireland. We think about how to get stuff there and I suggest hire a van we can leave in Ireland. Maja jumps in with, no. We buy a van as we need one anyway.

So the plan now is to find a house in the countryside of Ireland and live and do our thing there, with a studio setup, a place to invite people, and to tour the country and beyond from there.

With this decided, Maja immediately starts looking at vans for sale. The idea is to buy an actual van rather than a camper van, and adapt it for living, to make it viable for touring.

As the plan starts to take shape, Maja reveals she’s long had the idea for an adapted van but didn’t know what she really wanted to do with it. I now say that I’ve long had the idea to tour in this kind of way but didn’t know how it could really happen. WHere we are now is that Maja had the how, I had the what, but neither of us really had an exact idea of the where. Now all three have come together.

The plan

What, touring

Who, Mark and Maja

How, adapted van

Where, Ireland

We’re planning all this upstairs in our room. Well, Maja’s in the room, sitting on the bed. Which leaves no space for anything or anyone else. Outside the bedroom door is the hallway with a railing above the stairs and immediately opposite the door is the toilet. I’m sitting next to the toilet with my back against the railings. Yep. We have basically annexed part of the hallway to our room.

London, The Last Two Weeks: Days 53 and 54

Day 53

Tuesday April 13

Mark:

April 13 – the last 13th, we almost killed a cat. I wonder what will happen on this one.

I’m in the bar sometime in the early afternoon and finishing around 9, so that means Maja can come by tonight and have her first drink in a bar in London. Or at least her first drink outside in a bar in London. But her very first visit is to go there for a coffee as I have the idea to meet a regular and a friend, Ricky, who I know has contacts in Ireland so I think he will be a good person for a preliminary chat. 

He meets us there and we tell him our plans. What he comes back with surprises the hell out of both of us. He’s taking care of a three bedroom house in Donegal, which I knew about. He now says he might be able to offer that to us for a nominal rent. He says if it was up to him, he would just let us have it but apparently there are other people to consider, so some rent would have to be charged. He asks how we’d feel about £300 a month. Damn. You can’t get a room in Ktown for anything like that, no matter how small. You’re talking almost twice that just to begin. And there’d be no deposit on this place either. Damn again. Just a pretty much token rent. For a three bedroom place. He says he’ll have to make a call or two, but he really expects we’ll be able to do this. So, just like that, we’re touching distance from having our starter home in Ireland. It’s right up in the north of the country, so hardly optimal for touring around the place, but it’s a start, and that’s all we’re looking for right now. A house, somewhere in Ireland. Where, is totally irrelevant. Just something we can move to, start from, and maybe plan the next move to somewhere that would be optimal. But first, let’s just worry about being able to get there.

We leave Ricky, chill for a bit, then I go in for my Tuesday, which is every bit as busy as my Monday, but at least I know what I’m walking into this time. When I’ve finished, Maja arrives and we have drinks outside, again with Ricky, and a few other off duty staff members. This is where the only drinking outside thing hits its first real snag. It’s April, so the evenings can still get a bit chilly. To sit out there and drink cold beer, doesn’t really work so well. And this is the south east of the UK. This outside thing is going to bite a lot more up north, and let’s not even start on what it could be like in Scotland. We have a couple of drinks and realise that to stay for anymore would be to endure rather than enjoy. We’ve enjoyed this little tickle, but it’s time to get off now. But it’s been lovely for people to meet Maja in this way, and for us to tell them our plans, which are to plan stuff during this two week period while I’m at the bar, finish that two weeks, and then head off to Ireland, assuming our planning has gone how we would like. 

It’s a ten minute walk home. Half of that walk is downhill, all the way to the corner shop, pretty much where Kentish Town, Highgate, Gospel Oak and Tufnell Park all meet. That little street on the corner also contains the wonderful organic shop we just casually pop out to all the time. This corner is less than five minutes walk to the house.

We’re approaching it on the right hand side, hand in hand, walking at a pretty decent pace, me on the inside. I give Maja a little shove, to indicate that we should start crossing the road at a diagonal angle, to take in the corner as well, walking all the way across the road to be on the pavement walking past the organic shop. Maja responds and steps off the kerb. She goes immediately, with a scream. I react very quickly to try to stop her falling but nothing can be done. She goes all the way down, landing very heavily on her knee and just stays there, head down, not quite screaming, but scarily loud all the same. The speed of the fall has taken her deep into the road but she is making no moves at all to get out of the way of any cars that could be coming. But it’s very quiet right now and no cars are coming. I have no idea what to do. I go and crouch down with Maja to see what’s going on, but she isn’t responding at all. It’s just very clear something has gone very wrong. She’s sobbing quietly now but still no acknowledgement of any awareness of her surroundings, or the fact that I’m even there. I have no idea how long we stay like this, but eventually she at least manages to get up and be dragged somewhat to the kerb and somewhere a little more safe. I then ask if she can get up and walk. She slowly gets up, but walk, that’s another thing altogether. I support most of her weight, or as much as I can, and she hobbles very very carefully to the end of the street. There are no thoughts now of trying to cross the whole thing in one go, instead, we stay at this side, intending to cross just where the estate starts, about 40 yards down at a zebra crossing where we’ll have right of way and will be able to take our time. 

Just as we reach this pavement, at which would normally be five minutes from the house but now I have no idea how long this will take, a car stops. The guy asks if we need help getting anywhere. Yes. Yes please, we do. Except I don’t say that right away. I start by wanting go reassure him that we really don’t have far to go, that we just live a little way past that bridge over there. Before I can say anything else, he says, OK, no problem, and drives off. Noooooo. Come back. That’s not what I meant. Damn. We carry on the very slow, hobbly walk home. My first indication that this is bad, comes when we’re just 10 yards or so away from the house. Practically outside next door. Maja goes down again and says she simply can’t go any further. She takes a break for a while and we go again, pushing it for the last 10 yards. But then of course, when we reach our upside-down house, there are a whole bunch of stairs to negotiate downwards to reach the bedroom.

We reach the room and have by now decided that this is something pretty bad. Maybe a really bad twist. I call 111, the non emergency number and we get given an A&E (ER) appointment for 11am the next morning. Then we try to sleep, but for Maja, I know this is far from a comfortable night. I do what I can, but really, there isn’t much I can do.

Day 54

Wednesday April 14

Maja:

My ankle is broken. In two places. The tendons on each side of the ankle, the two little bits that stick out, were pulled so hard and fast that pieces of bone were pulled out of both of them. 

Mark:

When I hear that, a shiver goes through my whole body. And at the same time we realise we won’t be going to Ireland anytime soon. There’s no way Maja will be able to drive in any near future. And no, I can’t drive. Failed my test an embarrassing amount of times with the last one being far too many years ago to think of. Maybe I’ll get back on that particular horse, sorry, car one day. No idea when. 

But anyway, the hospital visit goes like this.

We arrive in a taxi and immediately realise we will need a wheelchair if Maja is to be in anyway mobile around here. I leave her by the entrance to go in and see what I can do. I speak to someone on reception and they tell me wheelchairs aren’t given out. You just have to walk around and try and find one another patient has vacated. So that’s what I do for the next five or ten minutes or so. I’m almost giving up until I realise that’s not an option. I don’t want Maja waiting too long wondering where the hell I’ve got to, especially not in the distressed state she must be in. I make my way back to the entrance just to let her know I’ve not found anything yet but am still looking. On the way I walk past the ambulance bay. And there, right in front of one of them, is a wheelchair. Wonderful. Job done. But it’s not one of those large wheeled things. No, this only has little wheels, meaning the person sitting in it can’t propel themselves, but always have to be pushed. Totally takes away any independence. But I get it. They don’t want drunken people, or non drunken people, finding wheelchairs and deciding to have races down the corridors Hollywood style. Little wheels it is. Sorry Maja. I’m in control now.

Back home and I leave Maja in bed to go off to shop. I get there and before I even start to have a look around, the manager asks me to wait a second because he has something for me. What could he possibly be talking about? He disappears out back, and comes back carrying a bass. Yep. He disappears out back, and comes back carrying a bass.

‘This was left here by someone about a month ago,’ he says. We kept it to see if anyone would come back and claim it but no-one did. I decided that if it was still here by around now, I would give it to you. Wow. Just wow. So this is what apparently happens now when I pop out to get milk. I also see immediately that it’s tuned B E A D. Very cool. You could say Maja’s a bit surprised when I arrive back at the room with a, ‘Guess what I just got from the shop.’ Just for the record, it’s a light brown satellite. Oh, and we plug it in and it really is super quiet, but we’re confident this is something that can be fixed.

Although she’s gone to the hospital and been well looked after, Maja is continuing to have pains. Luckily I wasn’t rota’d on at the bar for today, but I am supposed to be in tomorrow. I decide I won’t be and, if it comes to it, I will just refuse. But I make the call and give them a little time to cover me, hoping it won’t come to me having to make a flat out refusal. I’m also hoping to get Friday and Saturday covered, but Moni calls back after a couple of hours and says tomorrow is arranged but that’s all that can be done as we’re currently operating with such a tiny staff and Duran, the assistant manager, is also working at another pub while continuing to work with us. It really is a stretch to get days covered. Fair enough and thankyou. OK. Let’s deal with this.

We already knew our Ireland plans had been completely smashed aside with this. Today, as the shock subsides and reality settles, we realise Maja won’t be able to drive for seven or eight weeks. A driver needs to at least be able to do an emergency stop comfortably, meaning you really have to be able to slam down on the brake, so just being able to soft pedal the thing is no good. But in any case, it’s going to be a long drive. At least from here to Liverpool for the ferry to Belfast, then from there to we have no idea where in Ireland. This would be a tough drive at the best of times. With a recovering broken ankle? Forget about it.

London, The Last Two Weeks, days 55, 56 and 57

Day 55

Thursday April 15

Oh dear. I do my best to get out of the bar for the next two days, but with so many people having not returned yet, not to mention the fact that I can only be covered by another supervisor or management level person, I’m told with apologies that I can’t be accommodated. So, short of simply refusing to go in and damning the consequences for everybody, I just have to do this. Maja is not happy at all, but understands and my job now is to make sure she has enough food and drink in the room for the time I’m away because she simply cannot go downstairs to the kitchen. But at least I just happen to be off today. I think if I wasn’t with it just being the day after the hospital, I might just have done that rebellion thing and refused to go in and damn the consequences. At the very least, I’m grateful that it didn’t come to that. 

Day 56

Friday April 16

Mark:

I’m in from 1pm till 8:30. Maja can’t begin to think about stairs, and our bedroom is on the mid level, with the front door upstairs and the kitchen downstairs. The toilet, like we established a few days ago, is directly opposite the bedroom so that’s an easy reach. But the kitchen is a no no. So before I leave, I have to make sure Maja has enough food and drink to get her through the amount of time I’ll be out. It’s a very unhappy Maja that I say goodbye to shortly before 1pm as I leave for the bar for the day.

During the day, I tell Moni how things are and ask if she could at least get me out sometime early tomorrow.

Day 57

Saturday April 17

Mark:

Moni comes through for me and goes above what I asked for. Thankyou very much Moni. 

I’m due in from 10am till 5pm today. But at 8:30am she texts me to say that not only are this Sunday and my Tuesday now covered. Brilliant. I was already scheduled to be off tomorrow, so now after this short bit today, I’m off all the way to and including Thursday. Which means that after today, I only have two days left to work in the bar before I’m all done, and that will be Friday and Saturday.

When I get in today, it gets even better as Moni tells me I can finish at two today instead of Five. Result. She then adds that she has 15 applicants for my job, so if she gets to interviews this week, maybe even Friday and Saturday will go. 

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 is 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 this thing is just too implausible for a movie?’ 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.

Mark:

Just as we start to think we’re going to be OK with this, Maja says her foot is numb. Not good, so we call 111 who say we need to go to A&E immediately. Damn. Fine. We get a taxi and when we arrive, I’m told I can’t go in because of the Covid thing. OK but not OK. It is pretty cold and I’m not dressed for a long wait outside. I get it, but Maja is not independent at all right now and no-one had a problem with me being in with her the last time we were here. That’s not cutting any ice. At all. So I wait outside for the hour and a half it takes for this to be sorted. There really isn’t much to do so I content myself with sending silly messages to Maja.

London: The Last Two Weeks, days 58 and 59

Day 58

Sunday April 18

Mark:

We have a first rehearsal at the house today, just chucking some songwriting ideas back and forth with the guitar. Getting the musical feeling back really. I also hit the bass with pretty much the same attitude. Just getting back into it. What’s really nice is that I wake up just needing to play so I do.

Then, once we’re up and about, we’re in the garden for the first time since we got back. It really is nice to be outside and relaxed like this, and it’s here, reclining in deckchairs in the sun, that Maja first has the idea of maybe traveling about with a car and a tent. This could be an effective touring strategy – turning up at venues in which we could stay the night after a show, but demonstrating that we’re self sufficient at the same time. We kinda think that in touring, we could also stay at the houses of audience members, but we still like the idea of having a tent handy, kind of in the spirit of, people help people who help themselves. All in all, we’re just putting detail on the bones of how a life of musical touring could be possible.

Day 59

Monday April 19

Maja:

The weather is nice so we go on a walk around the block, making our way to the outdoor coffee shop where we have a nice coffee and chat with the locals. We meet a friend of Mark’s, also called Mark, by the coffee shop and he sits down with us to have a chat. I’m resting my superboot on a chair, so it’s only natural that he sits with us. He tells us about his filming project going on a motorcycle all around the island of England to interview locals, and I misinterpret it as a filming project about him traveling all around Ireland to interview locals. I really think it’s fun that he is looking at traveling to Ireland as well. Mark explains my misunderstanding to me as we walk back home at a super slow pace. He was actually talking about going round the UK, referring to it as The Island. 

Well home I’m exhausted. I haven’t been out and about in about a week, and it’s just exhausting so I go to sleep for a while, while Mark gets on with some phone calls. There’s always phone calls to be had. Always. Around 8 ish, we’re awake, hungry and annoyed about not being as productive as we’d like to have been. And we haven’t even played any bass today, or worked on any songs. At all. We eat something small, and I decide that we’ll do a bass session. Mark wants to do some music writing, but we start off with bass. It’s another one hour session entirely on right hand plucking technique. I start to somewhat get a hang on how to pluck more fluently. My plucking technique is now better than it has ever been before, and I am now using the same technique that Mark uses – free strokes. I’ve always used rest strokes before. After finishing a session on bass, we continue to finally get some original music writing done. Mark’s a brilliant songwriter. I’m not sure if that has been clearly written enough in these diaries, but he really knows what he is doing. So finally, after everything we’ve been through these couple of months, after everyone we’ve told about our project, we are finally in a mentally calm enough space to be able to even start to consider writing music. Even if writing music is our top priority, even if it now is our self chosen duty to actually write music, every disturbance that came along just put our heads further and further away from actually writing. We’d prepared a couple of documents with lyrics ideas in advance. So we take a look through our documents and start with the one that is most ready. And here the magic happens. Mark just does, well how to say it, his magic. I’ve never worked with a true professional like this before, and it is clear as day that he knows exactly what he is doing. Line after line just comes out, accompanied by his bass playing. I struggle to sing along and be helpful, it’s quite fun, but compared to him, I have no idea of what I am doing. I got one melodic idea during the session, to do with one of the lines, but he had so many. It’s truly wonderful to be able to work with him. Amazing really. I don’t feel pressed on performing very well in this situation, I know that it’ll come around when I’m more used to it. He has had a lifetime in music, and now he has decided that he wants to invest that in someone like me. I am truly flattered. I know that eventually, I am going to have more to give in the creative aspects, but for now, I’m going with the flow. Watching. Learning. Using what I have to do what I can. For me, it’s like I am a student, working with a colleague that is a star.

Mark:

What can I say? All the above is true. But seriously, sometimes ideas and melodies come, sometimes they don’t. Today they just happen to be exploding in me. But also, Maja really has woken the dormant songwriter in me and it’s so cool to be thinking about original music again. That’s not something I’ve really had an interest in for around seven or eight years, despite, for a long time, songwriting being all I wanted to do. I just hit a point when I realised so many of the impossibilities of songwriting as a profession, not least the fact that I needed so many different people to work with and could never get them all in the room at the same time. So I decided to make it as just being a bass player instead and totally dedicated myself to that and reinventing myself as how I played bass. This was around 2013, and in 2014 I took off on the adventure that would become Mark’s Diaries. Which ended about two months ago as Mark’s Diaries violently collided with Maja’s Diaries and became The Diaries.

Going way way back in time, in almost every band I’ve been in I’ve been the primary songwriter, which included writing about 80 per cent of Drunken Monkees’ album in 2010, the one that saw us take off to Hamburg to try to be rockstars. Going further back, I’ve run songwriter nights, including the legendary regular Tuesday night at Fred Zeppelins in Cork. I can claim absolutely no credit for its legendariness, that kudos all going to Ronan Leanard who ran it before me, couldn’t continue with it for reasons I can’t begin to remember and so handed me the reins. That, for me, felt like the moment I arrived in Cork as a true part of the music establishment of that incredibly musical city. At the time, I was of course a journalist on the Evening Echo, a job I had for four years but even then I had kind of morphed into the paper’s de facto music writer and so was totally immersed in all things musical in the city, both professionally and personally. Call it unprofessional, but as well as reporting on all the original bands of the time, I was also playing in a whole bunch of them, including my own, Fly On The Wall, playing mostly my songs although other members did make their own notable contributions from time to time. A lot of this happened in conjunction with running the songwriter night, for which I felt obliged to lead by example and have at least one new song every week; as host, I played the first two or three song set.

This whole original band thing continued until I had to leave journalism in the illness/fibromyalgia episode that lasted around five years until I had my breakthrough and moved to Madrid. During that five years, I couldn’t see myself doing any conventional work again, and so really put myself into becoming a songwriter trying to have my songs placed with other people. I worked with a producer on this, working from home and my own little studio and sending rough productions of my songs to him regularly, sometimes even at request for a particular artist of particular project. But nothing came of any of them. Then the move to Madrid happened where I tried to keep this thing going but it really just fizzled out. Then, after the whole album thing, I hit a five minute period when it looked like this part of my life might just be making a come back but again that came to nothing and I thought, screw it, just concentrate on being the best bass player you can be and go that way, which led to the Costa Blanca Diary and then directly to London. So there I was. All through London refusing to be involved, as a direct member, in any original project. If someone wanted to pay me for a studio session on their own stuff, great. But live, apart from jam sessions, if it didn’t pay, I didn’t do it. Which meant playing covers, although there was that interlude playing original songs with Dan, but I was also playing in The Insiders with him – our professional cover duo – so I was happy to help him out with original sets from time to time and it was something fun and cool to work on alongside our cover work, indeed we would sometimes do an original set somewhere in London, then run off to do a paid gig somewhere. And there was always the possibility his thing could take off, and we did manage to get some good representation in the form of Hot Vox, so it was really all good. But that was it, as far as I was concerned, until Maja came along.

All this new thinking about songwriting today seems to have opened my mind a little and I remember that I have some Irish running through my family in the shape of one of my uncles. I call him, bring him up to speed with some of our craziness, and ask if he might know anyone in Ireland who could just give us a heads up on houses or anything. He puts me in touch with a friend of his who just happens to live in Donegal. There’s Donegal again. Are we getting some kind of message here? Her name is Sarah and her and her husband moved to Donegal some years ago and she’s happy to give me some bits and pieces about how much she loves the place, but little concrete, so to speak. But it’s great to have made this contact and she says that now she knows we’re looking, and the kind of thing we’re looking for, if she should hear of anything suitable, she’ll let us know. Wonderful. 

London: The Last Two Weeks, days 60, 61 and 62

Day 60

Tuesday April 20

Mark:

Maja sits down to properly budget today to see how much time we can last on the money that’s available. Into this go a few things we can’t quite know such as the car we need to buy and how much rent we’ll have to pay for whatever we find in Ireland, including deposit. But we put figures here on the highest amounts we want to spend and factor that into the equations. What comes up is that if no more money came in at all, we have enough to last six months give or take.

A little cash injection would definitely help and I think it’s now time to make a suggestion I’ve been thinking about recently which could help us to pull in a chunk more before we set off. If it works and really comes through it could add four or five months to our viability. It might sound scary, but the answer is this. Medical trials. But really, not as scary or outlandish as you might think. I’m not coming at this blind. I’ve done two of them at the same facility in north London and the place in question was considered so safe that even the nurses working there would take out holiday and join a trial. Kinda like the workers in a sausage factory happily eating their own sausages or bar staff eating the food from the bar’s kitchen. Adds a layer or two of consumer confidence. It also helps that on my two trials I spoke to people with a lot of experience of doing them. Some even did them as their main source of income, and others saw them as a very powerful financial supplement to their self employed endeavours. The only financial restriction is that you can’t take a trial within three months of finishing one so you can’t just hop from one to another. But even so, it is still possible to do three or four a year if the jigsaw of schedules falls right. And if you get on the right ones, you really can make a liveable wage. I have a look and there are a couple starting soon that don’t take too long to complete and pay £3000 per person, so £6000 to add to our battle kitty should we both get on. Perfect if we could do that, especially as we have an enforced longer period in London now we have to wait for Maja’s ankle. It would also get us away from the house for a week or so. From what, I’m sure you can imagine, isn’t always the most comfortable of atmospheres. We decide to have a look at it just a little more, sleep on it, and if we still feel good about this tomorrow I’ll make the call. 

I also start to think further forwards and research, digging up and starting to remember contacts of mine from my time in Ireland. As do, I begin to feel like I’ve spent my whole life preparing for this. A few bullet points.

I’ve been involved in live music performance at many different levels for most of my life. Bass mostly of course, but a decent enough amount of experience on guitar, at the very least at a basic rhythm level, perfectly adequate for accompanying purposes.

I was a journalist for 10 years, covering a lot of different topics but I mostly gravitated towards music. There, I very deliberately researched that industry for around 10 years on so many different levels.

Four years of this journalistic experience was in Ireland where I built up the contacts and knowledge of the country and its music industry,

I have a whole bunch of songs I wrote over a period of years which we will now be looking at as we start to create our own set. Or at the very least, all that songwriting gives me a very solid basis of experience.

I spent six years as a full time English teacher in Madrid, and this is now being used to help Maja with her own English, meaning I’m able to answer language questions and explain language concepts to a deeper level than a layperson.

Then there’s Maja.

She’s a singer, or at least has already embarked on the journey of becoming one, along with already having embraced the possibility of fronting a band.

She drives

She has the very highest level of computer and internet skills, a vital component in any business that wants to make a real impact whatever the industry.

And for both of us

We share the same drive, ambition, work ethic and intensity. 

Here’s something we could both say: I’ve always had this intensity. I now feel there are two of me. 

It’s a cliche that any multiple of people can be greater than the sum of its parts, but we’re feeling even greater than a sum. Instead, we more have a feeling of things multiplying.

So basically, on a broad level, we very much share the same skillset and have the same ambitions and directions in which we want to take that skillset. But we also both have things the other doesn’t have and which complement and fill gaps in the others’ spectrum. As we contemplate all this we have a realisation. We are going to be famous. This is said as matter of factly as if we were saying we we’re going to pop out and buy some bread. It just totally feels like a totally unassailable, unstoppable truth.

Day 61

Wednesday April 21

Mark:

I get on the medical trial trail and speak to a person called Hannah who is very happy to hear from us and says that there’s no reason we can’t get the ball rolling from here. During these phone calls we discover that Maja weighs a little bit too much to participate right now, so she decides to go on a strict diet until the trial. Maja is also told she has to register with a GP but we are already looking at this so that’s handy. That happens today at our local practice Kentish town where I also take the opportunity to get the relevant medical records I need for the hospital.

We really start to dig deep today, looking at the modern music industry and how we can use it to actually make this thing work. It helps if you can break these things down into actual workable, tangible, realistic projects. With that, we realise we have our first goal: get a place in Ireland and organise the means to get there. Which means find a house in a country we’re currently not even in, and buy a car so that we can drive to wherever that ends up being. We also talk about what kind of music we’re going to write and play and conclude that it will be cute and poppy, maybe with a touch of attitude. We’re on our way. Kinda.

I call Per to say hi and then get round to what’s happening here. Kinda. ‘Remember that girl whose music we listened to and critiqued on the phone to her a few weeks back?’ ‘The Swedish one?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Well she’s living with me now and we’re an item.’ I might as well have just told him I’d built a rocket in my back garden, was setting off for the moon today and did he fancy coming. He reacts like it’s obviously a joke. A not very funny one, but, ‘Yeah yeah. Of course she is.’ ‘No, really, she’s here now. Upstairs in the house and asleep right now.’ This actually goes back and forth a bit – more than looks good on the printed page – until finally something breaks. His voice suddenly changes tone he says, ‘You’re actually not joking are you? What the hell’s going on? What happened?’ When I’m finally able to get clear sky to let him in on things and on what we’ve been talking about and what we’re planning to do, he couldn’t be happier. For me, for us, for himself for simply hearing this kind of story happening in reality to a friend of his. ‘You think things like this can’t happen mate,’ he says. ‘To meet a girl whose on the same page as you as much as this on the things you both want to do, and that you’re really making a plan to go to go off and do all that together. That’s just the best thing I’ve heard in years.’ Then, when I tell him about the ankle break and what that’s done to our plans, he goes slightly into overdrive. ‘That’s too much now,’ he says. ‘You know this is a movie right?’ Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot.

Day 62

Thursday April 22

Maja:

Neither of us sleeps very well, possibly with minds racing that this has all suddenly become very real and very doable.

This not sleeping would normally be OK and we’d just sleep more in the morning, but not today. I have to be at the hospital by 9am. We both go and the prognosis after it’s had time to settle is promising. It’s apparently healing exceptionally quickly. I also ask when I’ll be able to drive again and I am told in a week or two, which is great and may make our Ireland move possible at an earlier stage again. 

Mark:

Maja comes out all positive and almost ready to leave for Ireland this week. Now if we could, it seems to me. ‘When the doctor says you’re OK to drive, he’s probably thinking about a trip to the shops. Not a road trip of four to five hundred miles, without even thinking about how much driving about we might have to do when we actually get there. We have no idea if we’re going to get a place or where it’s going to be.’ A slightly sheepish OK comes back.

Maja:

I can now use the foot to walk with, even without the boot. We walk to hampstead heath and sit on a bench just looking. I am particularly affected by lack of sleep in general. Mark seems completely fine. The diet I started yesterday is affecting me kinda bad. I am hungry all the time and feel very dull, and it is not helpful that I couldn’t sleep last night. 

Mark:

Ambjorn, a friend I haven’t seen for over 20 years, gets in touch online today wanting to make a donation to the Diary. He says he’s read the whole thing, absolutely loves it and feels he really should pay something. Wow. I never even knew him that well. He was more a friend of friends, but yeah, you do the hang out thing and get on and all that, and now, here he is. The timing is perfect. His reachout makes it feel a bit like day one of the project as an actual person has got in touch and wants to make a payment into it. That’s real.

Per is delighted today when I call back and tell him I have someone here I would like him to meet. With that we’re on a three way call as Maja says hi. Before I know it they’re chatting like old friends and then then they start speaking together in a language that isn’t English. I interject to say I had no idea either Maja spoke Norwegian or Per Swedish. They both laugh and say that their languages are so close they’re able to speak Norwegian and Swedish respectively and be understood. That’s my thing learned for the day. As we chat, Per says they’re having a barbeque at his place this Saturday and would we like to come? Absolutely. Sounds wonderful. Thankyou very much. Here, I tell him that that’s my last day at the bar and I’m doing the early one so I’ll be done by five. Perfect, he says. I guess I’ll be seeing you guys around seven then. You most certainly will. So that’s my last day at the bar party planned.

London: The Last Two Weeks, days 63 and 64

Day 63

Friday April 23

Maja:

Last night we slept amazingly well. Mark had set an alarm for 7 am since he wanted to get some writing done before he had to go to the bar.

Mark:

I’ve always, always said, ‘to the bar, or at the bar.’ I’ve never called it work, as in, ‘I’ve got to go to work now, or, I was in work when…’ I’ve never seen it as my work, always as just part of what I do, with music and writing being the other parts. So, am I also not at work when I’m doing them? Do I say I was at work when talking about something that happened during a gig? Or a time a phone rang while I was writing? No. So I don’t say ‘at work’ when referring to the bar. Also, the other significant reason for me is that calling it work would make it seem permanent. Which would by definition imply that the other things I do fall into hobby and that thing at the bar, which is hardly the top of of the professional tree, is the thing I really do. It wouldn’t matter if I got right to the top of that particular tree,and yes I’ve had plenty of opportunities to climb that I’ve turned down. Because, well, that’s not what I do. It’s not my work. I’d much rather be somewhere on the rock’n’roll tree.

Maja:

Mark gently wakes me and asks if I’d like to have a coffee or if I’d like to go back to sleep. I look at him and say, ‘What have you done to me?’ He stares at me with big eyes. He has no idea what I’m talking about. ‘Well I want to have tea,’ I say softly. ‘I mean, you’ve made me coffee these last couple of days, but it doesn’t taste as good anymore,’ Mark starts to laugh and so do I. ‘You’ve made me a tea drinker!’ We can’t stop laughing about it. I can’t believe it. Mark has transformed me to proper British person. I drink tea now. Yorkshire tea. Or as I always said, that boring English breakfast tea that I don’t understand why anyone drinks. 

Tea made, and we’re up and about starting our next writing session. We take a look at the funding pool on paypal that I started yesterday for Mark’s diaries. And yes, the promised payment is there. So now we’ve made the first money on our writing projects. This is amazing, and is an important milestone in making them self sufficient. 

Mark is editing my diaries, since we need to get them properly edited to put in a more public forum. In the meantime, I am updating our shared diaries, the words you read right now. 

Day 64

Saturday April 24

My last day at the bar. My last actual day at the bar with a 10am open. And it’s right up there with some of the busiest I’ve ever seen, including some of the deepest days of Christmas. Certainly one of the most booked bars I’ve ever seen as we’re fully booked right up until 8pm. I’ll be gone by the time it calms down as I’m set to finish at five. What really doesn’t help is that one of our most on the ball members of staff, Kitty, comes in with a bad foot. I immediately tell her she can just stay on the bar as much as possible, which leaves me fully in charge of three, maybe even four sections with not a great deal of help – the back and front gardens which really are quite far apart, the restaurant, and the bar area which is, on really busy days, itself three sections. Yes, this is a big one to go out on.

In a rare lull, Kitty asks how I’m feeling about my last day and how I’m feeling about going out and doing our music thing full time in Ireland. I know she wants to hear a lot of adjectives in the ballpark of excited, but I really don’t know how to answer. Is it just too much to think about? The reality not sunk in yet? Or is it just that it’s more natural than anything else, just the next thing I’m doing and I’m thinking why not? Of course, there’s also a hell of a lot of uncertainty. The true reality is that all we’re doing is giving ourselves a chance. We don’t yet have any real prospects of making this thing work financially beyond belief, work ethic and hopefully a little talent and hard won  and hard practiced ability. But I don’t want to say any of those things either. I mumble something a little underwhelming and then duty literally calls both of us as things kick off around us again. Saved by the kitchen bell. 

But this has got me thinking. I really do not know how to feel about any of this. The thing is, it really does feel natural, which is just the most unnatural thing I can think of.

The place is still busy when I finish at 5pm so there are no big goodbyes. I just finish the last thing I was doing and I’m out the door. Back home and I talk to Maja about my inner reaction to being asked about all this. She says she feels exactly the same – doesn’t know how to feel, and also that natural feeling being the most surreal thing of all.

I don’t have time to flop on the bed following this last frantic day at the bar. Instead, we’re up and out again straight away. Off to Per’s for a Filipino barbecue, and where he will meet Maja for the first time.

We arrive and are joyfully greeted by him and his family, and then joyfully taken out to the back garden to join in with the generally eating and drinking thing, the centrepiece being a spectacular spread of fish, shellfish and squid. While we’re taking all this in and everyone’s getting to know Maja, Per says we can stay in the caravan in the garden tonight if we want. Brilliant. That’s made that simple. And in this warm environment as I sit, drink in hand and for the first time really stopped since leaving the house this morning and then leaving the bar an hour or so ago, I’m finally able to take in the fact that barworld really has ended for me. Who knows what may yet transpire, but for now, I really am done with it and facing a new future with Maja somewhere in Ireland.

The caravan we’re to spend the night in is pretty much as big as a conventional caravan can be and has been converted into a wonderful entertaining space complete with Per’s signature karaoke system. And in the front is a large double bedroom where we will sleep.

As festivities die down in the main garden, the three of us retire here for beer, whiskey and karaoke until Per leaves us to it deep into the early hours.

Day 65

Sunday April 25

We don’t emerge from the caravan until 1pm.

As soon as we do, we’re presented with an amazing filipino breakfast of pork, veg and noodles and take it in the garden in the April sun while we talk about our plans that we’re about to get onto tackling today. We say goodbye to Per and our hosts in mid afternoon and, on the bus, we’re online to look at cars. We find a great looking one being advertised in the West End, which is what the main central part of London is known as. Cool. We start a text conversation with the seller and all’s going well and we’re starting to make plans to go, have a look and maybe pick up. All’s left is to ask him exactly where he is. Just outside Bainbridge comes the answer. That’s strange in itself because, once in the West End, the areas are so small, you never refer to yourself as just outside somewhere. Always in somewhere. Intrigued, I look it up. Bainbridge. Glasgow. It’s in the west end of Glasgow. Over 400 miles away. I get back to the guy to tell him of the misunderstanding. I think, even from that distance, we can almost hear each other laughing as we sign off and both wish the other well.

Once we’re settled back home, for the first time we begin to look at houses in Ireland to see what’s available and what kind of budget we could be looking at. We’re looking at countryside Ireland because, first, it’s cheaper than the cities, and second, because we believe that with that we might just be able to find something a little isolated where we could make all the noise we wanted to anytime of the day or night.  

The first one that really looks viable is situated 20 minutes outside the town of Ennis, almost on its own. A three bedroom house for €470 a month in Frure, Lisseycassey. Which is £407. You couldn’t even get a room for that in Ktown for that, no matter how small. To recap, the tiny, just-about-fits-us-both-in room we currently have is £490 a month, and pre Covid it was £550, putting it at €640. The house we’re looking at now is slap bang in the middle of nowhere but by now we’ve decided that if someone offered us an affordable and viable house in Ireland we’d take it without asking where it was.

So if we think of our house as being in the ballpark of €5-600, and budget around €2500 for a car, this medical trial we’re thinking of doing would cover a house for six months, a car, and leave around three months living expenses. And that’s before we begin on the budget we were already looking at. This plan really is starting to come together and to look realistic.

I choose this moment to really drop something on Maja as I have a sudden realisation. ‘Maja, you know we’re talking about songwriting yeah?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Well, I might just have a whole bunch of songs sitting on a computer, The computer’s broken. But the hard drive might just be retrievable.’ Maja sits up with a start. ‘And you’re only mentioning this to me now?’ ‘Er, yeah.’ She laughs in disbelief and says, ‘OK. First thing tomorrow, we’re going into town and seeing if we can get that sorted out.’ If we could, that really would give us a hyperboost. I have no idea how many songs are on there but it’s a lot. We could use them whole, we could adapt them, we could use the musical ideas with lyrics we’ve written since we’ve been together. And that’s a lot of lyrics. Incidentally, this is the computer that I actually discovered was broken while chatting to Maja one time and I said I would just go and start it up and get up some files she was asking about. That was when I discovered it wouldn’t start, and it still hasn’t since.

London: The Last Two Weeks, day 66 to day 78

Day 66

Monday April 26

A trip down into Londontown to see if the files can indeed be retrieved. We find the right kind of shop, the guy has a look at it, and says that yes, this can indeed be done. Brilliant.

Day 68

Wednesday April 28

A call to the computer shop and we discover that the guys have been able to rescue the computer files. They’re still in the process of it though, so we won’t be able to pick them up until tomorrow. That’s absolutely fine. And wonderful news.

Day 69

Thursday April 29

This is the day as we head back into town and pick up the rescued disc containing the songs. This will be a fun project to get on and listen to when we get back.

Before we headed out, we received a call from the hospital that we’ve been confirmed for screening for the trial. This is where they check to see if you’re healthy enough. We’re seeing that as a formality so while we’re out we go shopping for toiletry and other supplies to see us through the two weeks of the trial. 

Day 70

Friday April 30

Mark:

The hospital thing for the trial screening is a bit of a trek, being in the middle of industrial far north London, up past Wembley stadium and a little way off any bus routes, but I’ve done this many times before and so am familiar with how to get there; as well as having come here for the two previous trials, both also included a number of follow-up visits after completion of the actual in-patient part. The beauty of this new trial is that there is only one follow up visit, so it’s two weeks and a bit, then one follow-up week or so later, then all done.

We get there and meet our friendly contact who is delighted to see we’ve made it, then it’s on for the formalities of the checks. For a start, by definition I’ve already been through this process twice, and Maja’s been able to answer yes to all the questions. They just have to make sure of it all then we’re on our way. They split us up into two rooms and we go through the tests. Heart rate, blood pressure, blood samples and a bunch of other stuff. Then I’m told Maja’s all done and I have to wait a while. I wait a long while. As does Maja, and I’m allowed to go and visit her and let her know I have some kind of hold up. What it is, we have no idea. So I go and wait back in my little medical booth. I’m a little alarmed when a doctor different to the one who’s been checking me out comes in and she looks a little serious. She informs me they’ve found some kind of heart defect in my results and I won’t be able to take part in the trial. What now? She pulls out the charts and goes through them with me. Apparently some electrical charge, or period between electrical charges in my heart are too close together. She says that in some people, this can actually be part of their normal heart function and nothing to worry about, but if it’s a new development it could be an issue. Something like that. She says she suspects it’s part of my normal make-up but they can’t be entirely sure and, until they are, I can’t proceed any further. That’s a bit of a balls. It’s suggested that, regardless of trial, I get on this, and we’re also left to decide what to do if I can’t, which means does Maja do it on her own. We’ve already decided it’s both of us or neither of us so are quite clear on that. They also show us some other trials we could do if we miss out on this one, but we’re also clear that we’re kinda on a deadline here and have plans to move to Ireland so again, it’s this trial or none of them. And this isn’t being churlish or missing out on a payday for the sake of it. None of the others coming up pay anything like this one, and the ones that are any decent are spread out over a much longer time frame. No. This is the only one that suits. We talk about this on the way home and while there is the possibility that we could also wait for the next consort group of this particular trial as it moves to its next stage, that’s simply too far off for us to wait around for so that doesn’t work either.

Oh well. We resolve to just see how all this plays out and, when we get home, forget all about it. Bars are of course open again, I’m no longer working in one so we have our evenings clear now, and we have options. With that we head out on what we realise is going to be our first actual date. We’re going to Rosella’s right across the road, run by my good friend Luca. Cheers. 

This really is a quite wonderful restaurant and, unbidden and unpaid by anyone, I’m going to chuck out their website to you. https://rossella.co.uk/ If you ever find yourself in London, or in the vicinity of Kentish Town in general and fancy something Italian, pop in and, if you see him, please tell Luca Mark and Maja sent you.

Now at the end of this entry, I’m going to say all is good with the heart/electrical anomaly thing. I don’t think it would be appropriate to treat such a potentially serious situation as cliffhanger material so I’ll just say here that over the next few days I do get it checked out and it comes back that this is indeed normal for me, so not something to worry about. However, totally understandably, after a few back and forth emails, the hospital says that with apologies, although they were happy to take me before, they’ve decided they still can’t take me on this one as the side effects of the trialed drug are unknown and they are reluctant to take someone with any kind of discrepancy like this. Fair enough and nothing to be done. But that is a massive chunk of money we’re having to say goodbye to.

Day 71

Saturday May 1

I’ve known this for a while but it only really hits me today when I get up sometime before 6am already itching to write. As I start to get down to it, I suddenly realise I potentially have the best job in the world and am setting out to do everything I ever wanted to do. Well really, I’m already doing it and am doing it right now. As a professional journalist, my main strength, the thing I loved doing most and the thing I was quite fortunate to do a fair amount of, was what I called experience writing. That is to go out, experience something and write about it. Beyond and above that, my biggest thing is music. But then, as this whole Diary thing attests, I love to take my musical inspired events and write about them. Today, to fill in a few details from the beginning that I didn’t realise at the time were important, I’m suddenly looking back over what has and is turning out to be the best experience of my life and I’m getting to relive it all again as I write about it.I’m almost jumping about in the kitchen too much to actually be able to sit down and put words on the page. Excuse me. It’s time to get up and go have another jump.

Day 72

Sunday May 2

Wow. Just wow. Today for the first time we go and have a look at what the rescued hard drive has to give to us. I had an idea of what was there, but the sheer scope is even taking me by surprise. And Maja is ready to do all kinds of bad things to me. I’d told her I might just have a few songs lying about. What we discover here is something approaching a hundred songs with well over 50 fully complete and too many sets of lyrics to fully appreciate. But then as we look into it, there’s more. Files within files within files, each one giving up more songs, or more ideas. Choruses, concepts, more ideas, sketches. One file is an actual book I’d kinda forgotten I’d written, or at least forgotten I still had. This was for a book of poetry related to the art collection of a notable artist. We managed to get a book deal for this thing at the time but then the publisher went under, both me and the artist moved onto other projects while we were waiting for this to get picked up by someone else and the whole thing disappeared. Well now we have it as raw material for songwriting and it’s just one piece of treasure among all that we’ve unearthed in this unexpected cave.

We get down to listening and pull out at least 16 songs that could be goers, but by the time we even make it there, there’s still so much more to go through. Oh, Maja is not happy with me, forgetting about this and even very very nearly letting it all just slip away.

Day 74

Tuesday May 4

Just a wonderful wander around central London today and back by 8pm, going through my old songs again. Beer, chill, and a wonderful steak dinner at 11pm. 

Day 75

Wednesday May 5

Maja’s feeling good about her healing broken ankle and it seems we’re starting to look at the final strait in London, or at least we think we can start to think about the next step. We then have a hit of reality as Maja faces up to the wrist surgery she needs on the ganglion that’s been bothering her for so long. Physio hasn’t been helping, it’s only getting more painful, and surgery in Ireland won’t be an option. Not without paying for it. Which won’t be an option. Like so many other things we’ve had to deal with since February, we have no idea how this circle is going to be squared.

Day 78

Saturday May 8

This house searching isn’t exactly going as we expected. We’ve called and emailed quite a few houses all over the country. Because we’re not there and can’t see the places or meet the landlords, we’ve been offering two to three months’ deposit straight up to take a place sight unseen. No dice. So today we just go for it, call a house and offer six months right now. They still say they want to meet us. What the hell is going on? I even have a phone call or two where people are downright confrontational when I try to up the offer to three, and then four months, with one saying, ‘You won’t be getting round me like that now,’ like this is some kind of competition between me and him. I hang up immediately when he says that and turn to Maja saying, ‘I don’t care. I will not deal with a guy like that. No way is someone like that going to be our landlord. I do manage to get one person to give me some time beyond business and he explains to me that demand for houses in Ireland is far outstripping availability, especially in the countryside areas which is where we’re looking. He wishes us good luck but warns me that there are so many people in the running for every rental that comes on the market that it’s going to be tough, maybe even impossible if we’re trying to do it remotely. 

Oh dear. We really thought we could do a deal on the phone, get a house sorted, and then take our time and move there when we were ready. But no. This really isn’t going to be as straightforward as we thought.

London: The Last Two Weeks, day 79

Day 79

Sunday May 9

A wonderful late Sunday morning on Hampstead Heath and for the first time I actually stop and watch a cricket match as Maja’s transfixed by this mad looking game played by men all in white. We’ve just bought ice creams and it seems just too perfect to be able to enjoy them in the sun while taking in this perfect scene of Sundayness. The ground is just off the main walking path a little beyond our entrance to the heath. It’s also behind a line of trees so this enormous playing area is almost concealed from the main thoroughfare. We find a free spot on the grass next to the boundary and settle down for an hour or two in the sun as gentle battle commences in front of us. As for the rules, rather than attempt to explain the intricacies of cricket, the fact that this game could go on for a whole day, and the fact that the highest level of the game can last for five days, I just answer questions as they come up from the action in front of us. How do they score? The two men in the middle run from that end to the other end, and back again if they can, and again if they really think they can. Why aren’t they running now? Because he hit the ball all the way to the edge of the field so that automatically gives them a score of four. And so on. A truly wonderfully lazy activity for a Sunday. On walks around when I’ve seen games happening, I have sometimes stopped and watched from the path for a little while. But this is the first time I’ve ever come in and really taken in a game. We stay for an hour and a half maybe until Maja’s decided she’s seen this thing now and we should carry on with our walk.

Back home and we resume our attempt to find a new one. In another country. And in the country. We’re thinking about budget and the fact that we really do need a house, not an apartment but a house. There’s no way our budget would allow for one in a city centre and most of the ones we’re seeing aren’t even near any towns. That’s fine. We’re thinking small, out of the way place. Maybe with at least one or two local shops so that we don’t have to drive everytime we need a pint of milk. You get the idea. We’re not expecting to be anywhere near anything that might resemble even a small town, but something with a near enough convenience store would be just fine.

We’ve found a place we really like in Mayo on the northern west coast. It’s a big three bedroom place, but because of its isolated location is well within budget. Although we’ve not had much luck with progress, we really can’t believe the size of the places we’re seeing for what we’re looking to pay. I call this house, have a chat with the landlady, and she says, ‘Yes, we can hold it for you.’ Wow. Great. I load up for the next part of the discussion/negotiation then she adds, ‘But if someone comes in the meantime we may have to let them have it.’ What? That’s not holding it. What if we offer to pay right now? ‘Why would you want to do that?’ she asks. What do you care? I think. You’re being offered money right now to give us the place. Six months up front. If anything, this only makes her more suspicious. ‘And you’re in London now?’ Yes. ‘And you want to take it and pay for it now?’ Yes. ‘And what would you be doing that for? Sure you’d have to see the place first.’ Oh here we go again. It’s like she’s trying to persuade us not to give her any money. Surely that’s our decision. I patiently explain that this would mean that we had a place to go to, so we could leave whenever we were ready and just move in comfortably. ‘But in the meantime you’d be paying rent for a place you weren’t living in?’ Yes. ‘What would you be doing that for now?’ Oh, I can’t get through here. ‘We’d have to meet you first, you know,’ she says. Oh dear. This isn’t going anywhere. ‘But we’re in England and are trying to secure a place in Ireland so that we can move there.’ ‘Well maybe you could come and see it before you decide,’ she says. ‘There are a lot of people interested. It isn’t only you.’ This just isn’t working. She then says she’s looking after it for her daughter. So negotiations are going on at a remove here. Never a good way to go. I feel we’re in the middle of a circular conversation so I thank her for her time, say that we may be in touch again and we hang up. 

We realise this just isn’t happening. We’re just going to have to go. People want to do the whole face to face thing rather than do a let on the phone. Fair enough. I totally get that. So that’s what we decide to do. Drive there and just turn up. Get ourselves in situ. I call the lady back, say that OK, we’ll come and try to meet, and she agrees that if we get there and meet her, we might be able to do something. 

But given her total refusal to commit, we accept there’s a possibility the house may no longer be available when we arrive. If that’s the case, we decide we’ll simply make a plan and get something else. What that plan could be we have no idea, but surely we’ll be able to come up with something.

So this is it. We’re going to start tomorrow by beginning the search for a car. Once we have that, it’s just a case of loading it up and leaving. Next stop, our possible house in Ireland. Mayo? 

Casting its shadow over all this is Maja’s upcoming but yet to be booked surgery. We’ve been toying with the idea of her going to Sweden for it, then coming back here, then we go to Ireland. We really don’t like the sound of that, so we come up with this wonderful plan. She books the surgery for something like in three or four weeks. In that time, we move to Ireland, get settled, then we both go to Sweden for Maja’s surgery in the knowledge that we have the place in Ireland to come back to. If, if if, we can get a car tomorrow, we think we can make the move this Tuesday.

With that, we go out to The Camden Head in Islington where we hang out with Alex, the chef and producer/songwriter I’ve played bass with, and his friend, Raul. We’re outside in the beer garden and we also chat with the bar staff as they pass by when they get a moment or two. Prominent among them Tom and Molly. I’ve known Tom years, mainly from Kristoff’s bar The White Hart, but also from The Marquis. And Molly we met at that part here a few weeks ago. When they’re finished, they come and join us and we then tell everyone our wonderful, foolproof plan. We’re going to move to Ireland. On Tuesday. In a car we don’t have to a house we don’t have on a ferry we haven’t booked. They all fall about in hysterics and the sheer audacity and adventure of it. Brilliant, they agree. Right? What could possibly go wrong?

London: The Last Two Weeks, days 80 and 81

Day 80

Monday May 10

I’m up at 6am today. No idea why, just felt like it. So there I am at the kitchen table looking at what cars are on the market. Cris, who leaves for work early every morning, comes down and is surprised to see me already there as he prepares to have breakfast. ‘What are you doing up this early?’ he asks. ‘Looking at what cars we could buy,’ I reply. ‘You want to buy a car?’ He sounds shocked although I remind him, ‘Yeah, we’re hoping to move to Ireland tomorrow.’ He kind of knew this, but is a bit shocked to hear it put in so many words. ‘I’ve been thinking of selling my car,’ he says. Now it’s my turn to be shocked. ‘Would you be interested?’ Hell yes. I know his car very well and me and Maja were both in it when the three of us drove in it for that trip to Crystal Palace a few weeks ago. And I know it very well. I’ve been on many drives with Cris for many reasons. It’s huge. A Mazda Sport 5. A seven seater in which all the back seats can be laid totally flat. Essentially a minivan and way bigger than anything we were thinking of. I’m almost scared to ask how much and can’t believe it when he tells me. Well within budget. Ridiculously within budget. Oh wow. I’ll have to check with Maja of course, but yes. Just yes. This is the car we decided we couldn’t ask to use to move all our stuff out of Sarah’s to here. Now we could be looking at owning it and then using it to move everything we have from here to Ireland. In a bit of a state of disbelief, I go outside just to have a look at it again from a totally different perspective. This could be ours. Really ours. While I’m out there I see Luca who’s also having an early start preparing his restaurant for the day. He comes and says hello and we have a chat about the car and our imminent move to Ireland. ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘So there’s a room coming up in your house?’ Yep. One of the small upstairs ones. Luca knows the house. He’s taken rooms in it before for workers of his restaurant. He says he’s now looking for a room again for a returning worker. A guy called Mike who we know well in the house. He lived with us before, was a great housemate and friend, and is apparently now thinking of coming back to work in the restaurant again. And just as Luca is thinking where he could house him, along comes a room in the very same house. This would work out very well for us; the move has come a bit sudden so we’re not leaving with the requisite month’s notice, meaning the rent really should be paid for this coming month even though we won’t be there, and there is every intention of honouring this. But if we are able to replace ourselves in the room almost immediately, this empty expense disappears. So it’s not even 7am yet and it looks like I’ve solved two of our big issues – a car big enough to move in and very within budget, and a new tenant to take over from us and save the next month’s rent from having to be paid.

I go back inside and ask Cris if I can borrow the car key for a few moments. No problem. With that, I go upstairs and into the room where Maja is sleeping. I gently wake her up and wave the key and fob in her face. She shakes the blurriness from her eyes and what is obviously a car key comes into focus. ‘What the hell is that?’ she asks. ‘That’s not a car key?’ ‘Yep, but not any car key. This is Cris’ car key. He’s said we can have it for a ridiculous price.’ Maja shoots up in disbelief and takes the key in her hand, regarding it in wonder like a precious, fragile treasure. She looks up at me again in something like shock. ‘And there’s more,’ I say. ‘Looks like we’ve got the room sorted as well.’

She says I should go downstairs right now and confirm the sale of the car with Cris. With that I say, ‘We’ve started the move haven’t we?’ 

‘Yes.’

While I was up very early, Maja also has to be up early enough herself for a phone call to check on a date for wrist surgery. This gets booked for June 3, three weeks and three days from today. This means that we now have to be in Sweden a few days before that, so three weeks from today. Which means we definitely have to have a house in Ireland sorted by then and already be moved there so that we can book a return flight to Sweden from Ireland. Oh this would normally be a huge ask, and it really is a huge ask, but mentally, and in real terms, we are already very much on it.

There’s a formality for the car before it can be sold, which is that Cris has to take it for an MOT. He says he can organise this for tomorrow, adding, ‘My worst fear is that I sell you this car without checking and it breaks down on you on the motorway. No way. No way. My reputation is to do things in the right way and of course I want to do that for you.’ This all means that we probably won’t be able to leave until Wednesday now, but yes, he’s obviously right. So now we almost have a car, which means we can make a solid(ish) plan to leave. Just to remind you, it is now Monday. Have I mentioned we still don’t have a house to move to?

Day 81

Tuesday May 11

Mark:

Insurance. Damn. I’d forgotten about insurance for the car. With things developing until close of office hours yesterday, this morning is the first chance we get to have a look at this. Maja begins the process and all of a sudden it looks like being a real thing and it starts to look unrealistic to think we could be leaving tomorrow. 

The insurance becomes a bit of a complicated, involved thing and we’re starting to think we might have to leave the car in Northern Ireland and rely on rentals for the Republic, but Maja discovers a Green Card system that we could apply for which would at least get us on the ground so to speak. Calling around and being recommended from one company to another and researching options becomes a full time project. 

While Maja is on this, I go into total denial of all possibilities of failure or setback and get on with the business of packing. I mean, there’s no point being ready to go and then looking around at all the stuff we have to organise. Might as well get as much in hand as we can. It’s a bit of a fraught day as Maja goes through the contortions of trying to secure insurance and Cris is having the car checked out. Somehow, semi miraculously really, by 5pm, the MOT and insurance stars have aligned and we have a car ready to go and legal for Maja to drive in Ireland. We’re not covered for the UK in terms of any pickup or roadside assistance, but we’ll have it here for just one day for the drive to Liverpool for the ferry to Ireland, so what’s the point?

With all that sorted, we’re truly on it now as Maja goes ahead and books the ferry from Liverpool to Belfast for 10pm tomorrow. She says she’s going to book a cabin so that we’ll at least be able to have a shower on the boat. Afterall, once we’re into unknown territory in Ireland there’s no telling when we’ll be able to have a shower again. Or a comfortable bed. We really are throwing ourselves out into the world here.

Now I have to get on with trying to make sure that doesn’t go as wild and feral as it could. I call the people with the house in Mayo to tell them we’ll be there Thursday morning. So with that commitment to being there, could they please hold it for us now? I speak to the husband/ owner’s father this time who tells me it’s gone. Balls. So now we really are going to Ireland with nowhere to live. We think about getting a tent and just camping where we can, and looking at houses that way. We discuss not getting a house at all this side of Sweden and just camping until then, and then resuming the search when we get back. We really don’t know. This is starting to look like a real adventure with so much unknown as we prepare to step into it. As we’re starting to organise the car for ourselves – cleaning it and such as Cris used it for work in his job in construction – Maja insists I call the house again, this time trying to speak to the lady who seems to know a bit more. She suspects the husband just told me it was gone out of assumption. OK. She was right. I speak to the lady again who says it is still available but that a lot of people are seeing it, but yeah, we can see if we can get there on Thursday and throw our hats in. So much for holding it. This really is starting to feel like a lottery. 

We have a kind airy dreamy delusional not-really-thought-it-through thought of arriving in Ireland on Thursday and then doing nothing but sleeping for two days. But the more likely reality is we’ll arrive in Thursday morning, rush to see the house sometime early afternoon, then have to wait a few days to see if we have it, in the meantime sleeping somewhere we have no idea of in a tent we might just be able to buy on the way. Or a B&B somewhere. Oh. Did I mention, Ireland’s still in Covid induced semi lockdown mode so no hope of getting a B&B there. Probably a tent somewhere then. Or, and we’re quite happy with this idea, if the initial house attempt isn’t successful, we could drive back to Northern Ireland, book into some kind of cheap hotel there and use that as a base from which to go into Ireland during the days to look at places that we’ve secured a viewing for. Oh, there’s seat of the pants, and there’s…this. As you can see, we’re making this all up as we go and we really have no idea. Absolutely none at all. And the clock’s ticking. Our ferry to nowhere leaves in less than 24 hours.

London: The Last Two Weeks, day 82

Day 82

Wednesday May 12

Mark:

Right. Before we get onto moving day, incase you’re coming to this late, or maybe it was so long ago we were writing about this that you’ve forgotten. We’re moving to Ireland because it really is the only place in the world me and Maja can legally live together. Her visa for the UK is only valid for six months – doesn’t have to be six months all in one go, but it is valid for only six months. Bottom line, she can’t legally settle there. Thanks to Brexit. I can’t go and settle anywhere else in Europe either. Thanks to Brexit. We examined other countries around the world and discovered a lot of barriers everywhere we looked, this time thanks to Covid. Yes, this is May 2021 and Covid restrictions are still in place in varying degrees all over the world. But travel and relocating is still OK between the UK and the Republic of Ireland and citizens of both are allowed to live in each others’ countries. And of course, citizens of Europe are allowed to live in the Republic of Ireland. Because it’s Europe. So Maja can live there. So can I. Problem solved. As long as we can get ourselves around all the other problems of getting there from London. Including finding a house, which we still haven’t managed to do. 

6:45am: We wake and see we have an email from an agent we’ve contacted who is up for the six month rent up front thing, but we really don’t like the look of the house he’s proposing for us. Maja also tells me now that, on a whim, she sent an email to a house she saw and is only mentioning to me now. No problem. She shows me the pictures and it really doesn’t look good. She even apologises to me for having made the contact for such a dingy looking place. Again, no problem. We dismiss it and think no more of it until I decide to check out the location. It’s bang in the middle of the country. Maybe we should just remain open on this. Later we get an email from a guy called Adrian replying to Maja’s email. He seems quite downbeat and says the location isn’t good at all for two musicians thinking of moving to Ireland from London. He suggests we try somewhere like Galway instead. Well, thanks for the heads up. We’re really not thinking that hard about this place anyway. But there is still that thing that it’s bang in the middle of the country.

7am: Maja and Cris have completed the paperwork. We now have a car and it is enormous.

While they’re doing that, I’m checking out new houses that have popped up. I email them now and will follow them up later. 

8am: Big news as we receive our Green Card authorisation by email. We are now insured to drive in Ireland.

9am: That paperwork for the car needs printing, as well as the Green Card. I go over to the restaurant to ask Luca if I can use his office to print it. No problem he says. We get on that straight away. 

9.30am: I’m walking across the carpark back to our house, I see a traffic warden three cars away from the car that is now our responsibility. And it’s not supposed to be parked in here. Cris would kind of chance his arm with it, but more often than not park it somewhere else. Today, it is not at that somewhere else. 

I run into the house and into our room. After completing the paperwork, Maja went back to bed and is now fast asleep. I wake her up without hesitation. ‘You need to get up right now,’ I say. ‘A traffic warden is about to hit the car. We rush out, Maja wearing slippers because they were faster to put on than shoes. The traffic warden is inspecting the car next to ours as we jump in and drive off. Maja’s first drive of the car and it’s a getaway drive. 

Me: ‘Are we ever going to have something happen that isn’t dramatic?’ 

Maja: ‘No.’

But the getaway isn’t at all smooth. She’s never driven a car this big before, and when she searches for the biting point in first gear, the revs suddenly go mad and the car makes a huge noise. But she gathers herself, finds the right balance and we ease out of the parking spot and away from the inquisitive warden. Out in the small streets and we just can’t believe the sheer dimensions of this thing. It seems to be far too big for the roads we’re driving on right now. But we get it a few streets away from the house and then stop and take in exactly what we have here. We can sleep in it, and we do exactly that for a 15 or so minute nap. Damn. We have our tent now as well, although it will have all our stuff in it when we get to Ireland so it might not be an immediate accommodation fix.

11am: We get back and Maja does some more cleaning on the car while I get onto house calls. I won’t detail them. It doesn’t go well.

3pm: We’ve finished packing and the car is loaded to the roof. Damn, we had no idea that we really needed something this big. We’ve said our goodbyes and we’re on the road and away. The move is officially on. We still have no final destination. All through the small, slow, winding streets of north London, Maja is learning the car and having trouble with the clutch. She assumes this is just because it’s such a big car and so has a different make-up to the smaller cars she’s used to.

5:30pm: On the motorway and we suddenly feel something bang under the car. We catch a glimpse of whatever it is as it bounces away and we think it’s a shoe.

6pm: We’re following a diversion away from the motorway for a little while which means slowing down and picking up speed at a few junctions and roundabouts. Which means Maja has to use the difficult clutch quite a lot. At a particularly tricky roundabout the rev counter suddenly goes crazy, the engine roars, and the car is filled with a horrible burning smell. Soon after this it starts to lose power. We get back on the motorway and Maja is able to keep it going. Just. I can tell she’s using all the concentration of a racing driver and is in hyper focus mode. While she’s doing that I’m my phone and trying to find mechanics up the road that we could possibly go to. But it’s late. The only one I manage to call and speak to says they’re closing soon so we won’t make it in time from where we are. He says all others will be saying the same thing. Thankyou very much. We’re on our own.

6.50pm: Maja declares that we’re going to try to make a run all the way to the ferry which, if we can keep this speed up, is just under two hours away. With that she gives me a job to do. Keep us on motorways. No junctions, no roundabouts, nothing that could remotely necessitate a stop or even a slow down. As long as she can keep us moving with minimal recourse to the clutch we might just be able to put in some real miles. She doesn’t care how far I have to detour us if that’s what it takes. Just keep us on uninterrupted fast roads. We might just make it to the ferry if we do that. Get this thing on the other side of the water and have it looked at then. The ferry leaves at 10pm and we have to be there for 9. By now I’m watching every mile of the GPS tick off and am watching every minute of the clock tick by. After an hour or so of this, Maja asks, ‘Are you bored?’ ‘I wish I was,’ I reply, and in the middle of this madly dramatic second by second drive we fall into hysterical laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever been less bored by watching miles or minutes go by one at a time. I’m in hyper focus mode too, and am thinking that if we can just keep on, one at a time, we can get there. Looking at Maja now, I realise I really have never seen anyone operating at this level of focus. We have a horrible moment when we have to stop at a toll booth and the car absolutely crawls away, accelerating at a tortuously slow rate. Enough to have cars behind us beeping in frustration. Oh, they have no idea. And their horns do nothing to improve the dark mood in our little world right now. We get to some kind of speed, but it’s clear things are very very weak. As we head round a downhill motorway bend we pick up some encouraging speed, but it’s an illusion. If anything, it feels more like freewheeling. 

8.30pm: We’re 10 minutes away from the ferry. A little more than 10 miles away and we’re starting to believe we might just be able to make it. But then the car starts to slow down. No matter how much Maja pumps on the accelerator, nothing happens. We’re going slower and slower. Soon the decrease starts to increase. Maja reluctantly pulls onto the hard shoulder. Down down goes the speed, as though the brake is being applied. Then we stop. Maja looks at me in resignation, then a little hope as she charges the car again, gets some revs going and we start to pull away. But it’s only a tease. We get a hundred yards or so, never getting above walking pace, and then that’s it. The car, which passed an MOT yesterday, really has gone. This is as far as we’re going to get. It’s dark, it’s raining. We’re on a lonely road. We’re slowly accepting we’re not getting any ferry tonight but that’s not even our biggest problem right now. We have no breakdown cover. We’re totally alone, abandoned on the side of a road somewhere in the north west of England.

Maja looks at me with empty eyes. She’s stunned, mentally exhausted, and almost emotionally broken. And lost. Both geographically and for any idea of what to do next. We’ve been together less than three months and have already been through quite a few crises. But this feels like by far the biggest. I saw an emergency phone a little way back and I’m going to walk to it and see what happens. We normally have pens and notebooks to hand all the time but we’ve somehow managed to neglect that on this drive. All I can find is a pencil and a single piece of paper and frankly, I feel lucky to have found that. And unfortunately, the only thing the hopeful burst of walking pace driving has achieved is to take us further away from the roadside phone. Worse news comes as I open the door and a blast of cold rain is blown in on a harsh, icy wind, instantly destroying what has been a lovely warm, if quite stressful, place until now. Moving day could not be further from fun right now. I jump out into the unforgiving weather and begin the dark, lonely walk back down the wrong direction on the motorway to the phone, wondering what’s going to happen when I pick up and if I’ll actually be able to talk to someone. I am, but it’s not an encouraging conversation. The lady on the other end is sympathetic, but all she can do, she says, is give the numbers of some breakdown companies for me to call round myself. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Reluctantly, I retrieve the paper and pencil from my pocket and do my best to write down the names and numbers she gives me. But the paper is slowly going soggy while also blowing about carelessly as I try to write on it. As soon as I hang up, I get to work calling the numbers as I walk back to the car, buffeted all the way by wind and rain. And it’s a slightly stumbly walk as well because this patch of ground I’m on has not been cultivated for strolling on and it resembles some craggy, alien landscape complete with deep grooves and gashes you could break an ankle in. I go back and forth between a few emergency companies, comparing prices and offers. This process of finding and comparing service providers can be challenging and frustrating enough when sat at a warm kitchen table with a laptop, pen and notebook and with a lovely hot cup of tea steaming away next to you. I can tell you now that it’s a little more challenging and frustrating right now. And I’m nowhere near a kettle. Oh damn. That reminds me. I am writing this from a warm kitchen table and I am very much near a kettle. My mind is right back at that horrible roadside scene but I can’t take my current cuppa tea making facilities for granted. Gonna go get that started now before I plunge back into this little bunch of misery.

Halfway through my calls and my phone rings. It’s a guy called Craig and he introduces himself as being from the RAC. I’d quite liked their offer compared to the others although it is still quite expensive. What makes them the most attractive, apart from the name recognition, is that they offer the furthest towing distance from the scene. I have no idea where we have to get to, so the biggest margin for error we can have, surely the better. Craig on the phone also represents a bird in the hand as opposed to the other companies yet in the bush. I accept his call and offer for help. I also had the awareness to write down the serial number of the standing roadside phone I used, so Craig now knows exactly where we are. Already I’m feeling reassured. I think I’ll say now that I’ve already refused another company, that I won’t name, not least because I can’t remember who they were. This is because the guy I spoke to on the phone sounded so unprofessional, unprepared and spoke with zero level of assurance. He was only a phone operator and front person for the company, but I thought that if that was the first impression they were happy to give, I could do without discovering what any of the other impressions could be. Our predicament is not a place in which to be nice or polite to people you think could make it worse. This is not the time to give someone a chance or benefit of the doubt. As soon as the guy started spluttering and hesitating I hung up. But now I have Craig, who sounds decisive, tough and eager to get on with the job. Before he hangs up, he tells me that we are not to stay with the car. We have to leave it and walk back to the barrier behind the hard shoulder. Will do. I feel as safe and confident in his hands as it’s possible to feel in a situation such as this. Totally independently, I take the decision to agree that all payments will be met and conditions agreed to. By the time I return to Maja in the car, I’m delighted to tell her we have the beginning of a solution, but not so delighted to tell her we have to leave the warmth of the car.

This means walking back over that pitted moonscape which Maja, with her newly healed ankle, is not happy about at all. Once we’ve reached the relative safety of the barrier, all we can do is wait in the dark, cold rain. Somewhere in this we manage to have a really big few laughs but I can’t remember at all what we talked about to make them happen. But even as we’re going through this horribleness I think it’s pretty cool we can have a laugh about it. But then, getting serious as our spirits start to dip, I say, ‘You just never know. Something might just happen out of this that wouldn’t have happened without it.’ 

While we’re waiting, we make the call to the ferry company to tell them what’s happened and to book ourselves on the ferry for tomorrow night. The ferry company happily transfers us onto tomorrow’s crossing with just a small admin charge, but unfortunately we no longer have a cabin. Not ideal, but given the circumstances, at least we’re starting to get the dots joined again. However, as we’re waiting here, one thing dawns on us. We told the guys in Mayo we’d be there tomorrow. Now we won’t be and we know they’re showing it to other people. Oh well, that house has really gone now.

The plan, as much as we can make it now, is to see if Craig can fix the car here, but we know he probably won’t. We’ve missed the ferry anyway so that part is irrelevant. At best we’re going to hope we can get to a garage and they can fix it tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ll be booking ourselves into a hotel somewhere in Liverpool tonight. 

9.20pm: Craig arrives. As I suspected by dealing with him on the phone he’s professional, friendly and quite brilliant really. He can’t tow the car as it’s too heavily loaded, so he winches it onto the back of his truck. Only then does he summon us to come and join him in the front cab. He confirms the callout includes a lift within a 50 mile radius. He’s already called a garage and says we’re going to drive there, leave the car there, then he’s going to drive us to whatever hotel we’re able to book ourselves into.

9.30pm: While Craig is sorting out the car at the side of the road and we know we’re rescued, I call Cris and tell him what’s happened. He point blank refuses to believe this isn’t a wind up, even when I send him a picture of Craig with the car against the flashing blue lights. It’s only our increasingly desperate tone that finally convinces him, at which point he has something of an emotional breakdown and can’t say sorry enough. He really thought the car had been checked enough to be totally solid but something has clearly gone wrong. 

10.20pm: Craig is done and he gestures us to come and join him in the cab. Finally. We’re ready to leave. Our feet are almost numb. We’ve been standing here in the cold, wind and rain for almost two hours. He tells us the clutch has burnt out and that only a garage job will do.

10.30pm: A short drive during which he asks about our story and soon can’t believe what he’s hearing, and we’re at the garage where Craig gets out and prepares to leave the car to be picked up in the morning. While he’s doing that we call hotels. The first one is full. Oh dear. Not good. The second asks why we want a hotel because we’re still in Covid times and you can’t just go and book a hotel apparently. It has to be some kind of emergency. I tell them what’s happened as briefly as I can and they relent. Yes of course we can have a room for the night. Oh wow. Now I call Paul who lives in Warrington, just a short drive from Liverpool. I tell him our story to stunned silence and then see if he fancies coming to meet us somewhere tomorrow, and in doing so, meet Maja properly for the first time. He’s well up for that, although he does sound a note of caution that we shouldn’t expect the car to be fixed tomorrow. Not really what I want to hear because we kind of need it tomorrow, but he does have a hell of a lot more experience of cars and repairs and garages than I do. I decide to engage the denial dial and concentrate on the real outcome which is that bizarrely, we now have plans in Liverpool for tomorrow. By the time Craig comes back we’re able to tell him we have destination. Before setting off to drive us there he gives us the number of the garage he’s just dropped the car off at and tells us to call the mechanic at 8:30 in the morning. Then it’s off to the hotel where we gratefully check in. Despite the uncertainty still ahead of us, we’re so so relieved to be in a warm safe place with clean dry sheets and a shower. Will the car even be fixed tomorrow? We have no idea. We have no idea about anything. But somehow, feeling calm and even joyful – how?- we settle in for the most wonderful night’s sleep.

London: The Last Two Weeks, day 83

Day 83

Thursday May 13

On our first 13th of the month together, which was March, we almost killed a cat. On the 13th of the next month broke her ankle, throwing all our plans into chaos. I wonder what will happen on this one. Surely we’re due a good one, if for no other reason than to balance out yesterday.

We’re up at 8am and at 8:30, just like Craig said, we call the mechanic. He goes against all Paul’s pessimism and promises they will have the car ready today. We’ll see, but right now I’m happy to take his word for it. We chill around for a bit, try to call a few house prospects but get either no answer or no luck, then at 12 we have to check out. In the meantime I call Paul and he says he’ll be here sometime around 4pm.

So at 12, all packed, we leave the hotel and find ourselves out on the street. We’re in a pleasant enough seaside pedestrian area called New Brighton but today is not a day for daytrips in the sun. It’s raining and a little bit chilly. And we’re out in this and homeless. And Covid restrictions are still in place, meaning we can’t even go inside anywhere to warm up. Not a library, not a cafe, not even a bar. Bars are open, but for outside table service only. We do the only thing one can do in such a situation. We go to the seaside promenade shops and get donuts. The kind that are made right there as you order them. They really are quite wonderful and we go and find a bench on a covered bandstand and settle down with our hot sugary paper bag.

This done and we call Cris. Last night, once he’d decided to believe us, and once he’d got over the shock, he offered to pay for the repair of the clutch. We don’t mention the cost of a call-out, or the cost of the hotel. It’s a well meaning, genuine gesture and I know he’s horrified and thought he’d done everything he could to prevent anything bad happening. A clutch repair is no small financial thing so yes, we’ll be grateful to accept a reimbursement for that alone.

Well, we’re on the seaside, so once the donuts are done, we might as well go for a seaside walk. There is an interesting looking fort type building and we think we might go and have a look at that, but closed. Of course it is. So we take a casual walk along the seaside edge and pretend it’s not raining. During this we try to call a few more house calls. Nope. Nothing.

We reach the end of the promenade and we’ve come to one of those newly built shopping arcade areas. The ones with a cinema and bowling and stuff. My phone rings. It’s a guy called Adrian calling from the house Maja emailed late Tuesday night and which she apologised for doing so Wednesday morning. He says he’s had a few viewings but he likes the short story we presented of ourselves on our email to him; all our emails have also included links to our website so people can really see what we’re about. It seems he’s actually gone that extra little bit and bothered to have a look. On the phone now we get into a bit of a chat and I tell him a little of what’s happened and a few encouragingly sympathetic sounds and words come back. I go for it now and say that our ferry leaves at 10 tonight. We’ll be in Northern Ireland around 6 the next morning and can be at his house sometime late morning, however long it takes to drive there. I promise we will absolutely be there. Would he give us a guarantee that the house is ours if we turn up as promised? He mulls this over and I almost break the phone from holding onto it so tight in suspense. Maja can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but she definitely has the gist of it. She’s also looking at me in the highest of anticipations. The silence seems to go on forever and I don’t want to break it and break this guy’s thoughts. I just have to wait to see what comes back. His thinking done and he replies. Yes. Yes I can do that. See you at 12 more or less. Oh thankyou. Thankyou very very much. I hang up and me and Maja hug tightly but not yet in celebration. But finally finally, we do have a destination. And hope. Realistic hope. 

Almost as soon as I hang up on that call Paul calls. He couldn’t have timed it more perfectly. He’s ten minutes away so it’s off to the pub where we’ll meet. We did have a little check on bars in the area on our walk earlier and so have our location all staked out. We tell him what it is and make our way there. 

The three of us all arrive at pretty much the same time and just manage to get the last table under the awning. Yep, it’s still raining. Him and Maja have a big hello then we sit down and have lunch while Paul hears a little more of how we got here, and the big news of our last phone call just a few minutes ago, not that anyone’s completely relaxing just yet.

While we’re here, we have a look at the map and think about where we want to cross into the Republic from Northern Ireland. There’s no hard border but we still want to avoid any stops from anyone. We just don’t want to flaunt that we’re trying to move there, especially given the fact we don’t have an actual address to give, which we know is one of the requirements when entering a country during these Covid times. We are still homeless. So we don’t want to cross the border at the first opportunity, instead we plot a route across Northern Ireland, planning to plunge south deeper into the country.

Final leg planned and we continue our joyous hang and catchup until we become aware it’s painfully close to 5pm and the garage still hasn’t called. I have been in touch sporadically but with no real news. Then at 4.30 my phone rings and it is the mechanic. Our car is ready. Wow. Guys, we have to leave. Like, right now. We finish our teas and cokes and Paul drives us to the garage where the mechanics lead us to the newly repaired car. As we’re doing this, one of them comes out with the broken clutch that was the cause of all our problems yesterday. ‘How far did you say you got on this?’ he asks. ‘A hundred and fifty miles give or take. About two and a half hours.’ All around us are small gasps of wonder and appreciation. I’m almost surprised they don’t break out in applause for Maja’s feat of determination and concentration. ‘It doesn’t seem possible,’ one of them says. Yes, we had a massive rev count somewhere in the detour that started all this, but they are emphatic in pointing out that this clutch is worn out to oblivion. ‘No way this happened in one incident,’ one of them says. ‘This is clear wear over a long period of time. Basically, you guys had no chance.’ Wow. And now it can even be confirmed that even if we had made it to the ferry, with all the stopping and starting and attendant clutch work in such a situation, the car would have just broken down right there in the queue. We were never going to get on that ferry. So really, just as well it stopped us when it did is the conclusion. 

We get in the car now and Maja has a quick go at driving it and is almost hysterical with joy at how different the clutch feels. ‘It’s like driving a brand new car,’ she declares. ‘Thankyou thankyou thankyou.’ While she’s speaking to the guys and they’re still in wonder at that incredible feat of driving, the payment gets processed and we’re ready to be on our way with one last thankyou. As our two car procession leaves the forecourt, they close and lock the gates behind us, while happily waving to us, their day having ended on such a positive note. Wow. We really did just make it in time. There’s still another few hours till we have to be at the dock, so we stop off for another cup of tea or two at a lovely countryside looking bar with a decent sized garden.

About 7pm we say our goodbyes to Paul and head off to the dock. Once on board, Maja takes charge of finding us a spot for the night and finds a lovely sofa type thing against a wall facing the front. This is as good as it gets, she says. Yep. It’s very comfortable and will definitely do.

On February 26, day seven, we each made a list of the things we would have have to accomplish just in order to be able to be together: ‘As an entire list, it’s impossible. Just impossible,’ I wrote at the time. ‘There’s no other word for it. We are totally deluding ourselves if we think we’re going to get that lot ticked off and somehow sail into the sunset.’

And now, here we are on day 83, Thursday May 13, 2021

It’s still daylight when we find our little area and settle down with something of a spark of hope. That hope, of actually having a house to go to, of having a home to go to, lies with a man we have never met, and with whom we have no written agreement. We are leaping into the wide blue yonder with nothing to land our feet on. But when we get to where we’re going, we believe we’ll find something there. When we do get to that house, and if Adrian does keep his word to us, it will mean that after everything we’ve faced up to, including last night’s actual breakdown, we will have ticked off our impossible lists. With rising feelings of almost overwhelming relief, tinged with a bit of realistic caution, we settle down on our sofa and gaze out of the window at the slowly moving city skyline. As the ship leaves the dock, we are literally sailing into the sunset.

The Ireland Diary, day one to day 52

The Ireland Diary

Day one

Friday May 14

Mark:

We kind of have a destination now but we can’t totally bank on the house being kept for us, or anything at all really. With that, Maja is being careful to sleep as much as possible. First, because we do have that drive ahead of us as soon as we get off the ferry, but second because we really have no idea what will happen if we don’t get that house. We have some vague plans, number one on the list at the moment, to drive back to Northern Ireland, find a hotel just inside the border and start a proper on the ground house search from there. Maja does pretty well with getting to sleep, but I don’t. Instead, I go off wandering around the ferry, and then settle down in the flickering darkness of the games arcade and write a whole bunch of lyrics, essentially detailing our story since we left London on Wednesday, up to where we are now, somewhere in the Irish Sea sailing to what, we have no idea.

6:30am and we’re off the ferry and driving into Northern Ireland. First we drive west across the country for a while rather than plunging direct south and the first border from the ferry. We just don’t feel like advertising that we’re attempting to move house into Ireland. As a result, we cross the border at Cavan, going over the tiny motorway bridge over the Woodford River. On our maps system we can see the border approaching. Five hundred metres, four hundred… and we count it down. Then, just like that, in a flash of waterway, we’re across and in Ireland.

It’s just after 10:30am and now we know we’re more or less on schedule to meet Adrian at the house as promised. In high anticipation I call the number. No answer. Oh. OK. Maybe it’s too early. I try again half an hour later. The same. And again when we’re half an hour away. Still no answer. Oh dear. This does not look good. It’s all stopped being fun again and we continue the drive with an increasing feeling of tension.

Just before mid-day we arrive at what we think is the house and park across the road next to a kids’ playpark and take it in. Could this really be the place? On the advert there were no external photos and I did look at a street view and see a detached house on a corner at a crossroads. Could that be the place on offer for the price asked? Didn’t seem right. Now we’re seeing it for real and yes, it’s the same place but I’m still not convinced. But maybe none of this will matter because the phone is still going unanswered. We keep trying for the next hour before reluctantly accepting that the promise wasn’t kept, the house has gone to someone else and this guy just isn’t going to answer to us. That’s it. The worst has happened. We left London with no house to go to, just throwing ourselves to the wind and hoping something would come up on the way. Something kinda did but yeah. That old one. Too good to be true. And here we are. Right in the let down zone.

We were a little mentally prepared for that and this process kicks in now as we begin serious discussions about what to do next. Now we really are thinking about buying that tent and just camping out somewhere while continuing the search. But maybe while looking for a place to do that, we could keep an eye open for any to-let signs. That’s literally what I did in Madrid when I was looking for an apartment one time. Just walked around the city and looking for signs saying se alquile (for rent). As for the tent, this is still lockdown Ireland and the stores are all closed. Or at least non essential places where one would expect to find a tent. We’ll probably end up falling back on the plan to go back to Northern Ireland, checking into a cheap hotel just inside the border and carrying on the search for a house from there, driving into Ireland for viewings until we get somewhere. We’ve arrived and this really is the nightmare scenario. So what do we do as we’re confronted with this face punching reality? After everything we’ve been through to get here. Do we breakdown and cry? Do we have a moment of total despair? Are we in a state of abject resignation? Nope. We realise we’re sitting next to a children’s park. So we decide to go have a play for a few minutes before beginning whatever the next phase of all this is going to be.

We run over and play on the roundabout. Well, it’s more of a bendy stick thing with a base that you spin directly around on. I don’t know what else to call it. We make it go really fast and are screaming in delight, heads thrown right back to the sky. Look at us. Not a care in the world. Just two grown up kids having fun in the park. 

Then the door of the house opens and someone walks out. Towards a car parked right next to the house. I suddenly turn serious and frantic. ‘Stop stop stop. Someone’s come out. but they’re getting in a car.’ No no no. Almost maniacally we jump off the roundabout. Whoever that is, we cannot let them get in that car and drive away. We’re running across the park and calling out. Hello hello. Stop. Over here. Mercifully, the man does stop and turn towards us. Great. At least he’s not going to disappear on us now. Oh this is all getting too much.

Breathlessly we run across the road. ‘Are you Adrian? Are you Adrian? Are you Adrian?’ Talk about making a calm, unruffled first impression. ‘Yes,’ he says calmly. Oh he has no idea. ‘And you must be Mark and Maja.’ Yes Yes. We’ve been calling for hours. ‘Oh,’ he says, almost absent mindedly. What number were you calling. I tell him. I know it cold by now. ‘Sorry about that,’ he says. ‘I left that phone somewhere and have been on a different number today.’ Oh wow oh wow oh wow. For that we almost just bounced ourselves off into the Irish countryside without a clue where to go next. ‘But you’re here now,’ he continues. ‘Do you want to look at the place?’ Oh, do we. Oh yes please. ‘Follow me.’

We walk eagerly into the house and immediately see that it’s not the dark and dingy place depicted in the photographs. Inside it’s really nice and modern looking and really quite spacious. And it smells of paint; Adrian, with a care free smile, tells us he’s been doing the final touches and was still in the process when we arrived. In the front door to a little hallway, then left and into a really big stone floored kitchen/ dining room. Back into the hallway and into the door across from the kitchen and you’re in a similar sized room, this being the front room with a black leather type sofa on one side and the two armchairs facing it, set against the back wall. These two rooms and the hallway make up the entire downstairs, meaning they both have windows front and back OK. Upstairs now, which means back into the kitchen which leads to the stairs. There we find a large double bedroom, directly above and the same size and shape as the kitchen, and then a smaller single bedroom with a skylight instead of a back window and a small bathroom – with a shower but no bath. And there’s a little more. First, there’s a small, very private back garden. Second, you reach this garden through a back door from the kitchen, and by passing a utility room out there containing the washing machine. Then round a tiny little outside passageway you come to another small but open space which contains a large fridge freezer, in addition to the inside fridge. So, even more stuff outside. Two more rooms essentially.

The place is truly perfect.

Yes, we’ll take it. Well, of course we will. What else are we going to do? Go bouncing back out into who knows where? Formalities get arranged, hands are shaken, and Adrian leaves us to it.

We can’t believe it. We live here now. We actually live here. We have totally landed. All the uncertainty and jumps into wide blue yonders, and everything leaving London and arriving in Ireland related. All done done done. Oh wow. Just wow. The relief, the elation. And the house. What a house this truly truly is. It’s perfect. We could not have possibly even come up with anything better. It’s really decent sized. Big even. It’s totally detached, so we can make any noise we want, day or night. 

It is with a huge amount of jubilation, celebration and still a whole lot of disbelief, that we start to unload the car and pile everything into the kitchen in the house in Ireland in which we now live. I have only two words. In. Credible.

It really is very special when, ridiculously early for us, we have a shower and then head off to bed. Oh. Oh, oh. And bed. And to have a shower as well. It’s almost too much. When, as late as 1pm today, we had nothing. And now here we are. We really still can’t take it in.

We’ve said it many many times, but surely this is the biggest.

What. A. Day.

Day two

Saturday May 15

Mark:

We were saying that when we got to Ireland we would spend two days doing absolutely nothing. And here we are. Do not expect much to happen in these next few days.

When we wake up, we can’t quite believe where we are. We live here now. I go down to look at the kitchen from the stairs, as they have a left turn at the bottom and then lead into it. I stand there in wonder, just taking in the scene of this fantastic and large space. Later, we get on internet map stuff and check out the local area a bit more closely using the satellite images. We’re in the centre of an actual town and directly behind the main high street. We hadn’t noticed that before; of all the other houses we were looking at, nothing that we saw in our budget was within walking distance of more than a single local shop. We’ve found a place with an actual high street. Alright, not that big a high street, but a high street nonetheless. Having come from almost central London, it seems a mad thing to say, but we can’t believe that round the corner, in this town in which we now live, there are two supermarkets. Two. They don’t look like they’re that big but…

We count seven or maybe eight pubs; as they’re all still closed due to Covid, we’re not sure which ones will be opening again, but still. And all the little things you could possibly want for when things do open up again. Cafes, takeaways, coffee shops, butchers, a very big looking hardware store – a must for anyone in a new place. And so much more. We really can’t take this in. A quick check shows that the population of the town is around 3,500.

As for location, oh it couldn’t be better for anyone looking to travel and play around Ireland like we are. We are right in the centre of the country. And I mean the centre. We’re the only house on a four road crossroads and look at a map shows that this is the most central crossroads in the country, meaning that we are very possibly living in the actual most central house in the entire country. On the whole island of Ireland. A touch of research bears this out. The actual centre is in a place called Adamstown, just 15 minutes north of here. But ours is the most prominent crossroads in the general area, so yeah, we have a good bit of a claim that our brand new house is the most central house in Ireland.

But back to practicalities, Dublin is just an hour or so to the east, Galway on the west coast is also an hour away, and just about anywhere in the whole rest of the country can be reached by car in three hours or less. And another look around the map shows us that just 10 minutes or so away we have Tullamore which is a pretty decent sized town, and little over 20 minutes away, we have Athlone, an even bigger town. Population check again here. Tullamore is just over 14,000 while Athlone is around 22,000. Comparisons. The population of the Republic of Ireland is just under five million, while the population of London is around nine million, with just little Kentish Town holding around 14,000.

Our own mental checklist of what we wanted of an ideal house and location wasn’t as comprehensive as what we’re looking at here. It ticks more boxes than we’d even thought of.

Day three

Sunday May 16

Mark:

We get on things today, cleaning the house a lot and really getting to organising, especially the room that will become the studio. This is the room on the ground floor that most people would consider to be the living room.

We also break down the past week. It went like this and it really doesn’t seem possible.

Monday: 6am, agree to buy a car from Cris

Tuesday: Insure car and book ferry for the next day.

Wednesday: Trying but failing to get house sorted, start packing by 12pm, leave at 3. Breaking down and missing the ferry.

Thursday: Meeting Paul and ferry that night

Friday: Arrive in Ireland, drive through the country, see the house and take it there and then.

So, from a standing start, with absolutely nothing in place, we organised and moved house – to another country, in five days.

Day four

Monday May 17

Mark:

Back on it today musically as I’m downstairs in the studio practicing bass by going through the Players Path tracks on Scott’s Bass Lessons.

And today, Maja gets her surgery confirmed for June 3

This gives us a bit more time than we thought we would have, and it was this imminent surgery of course that put so much pressure on us having to leave London and get to Ireland to get a house sorted out before having to go to Sweden. We’ve got the absolutely biggest thing done and out of the way now, and now Maja has a date for the next thing. So can start to plan and look forwards.

Day five

Tuesday May 18

Mark:

Now dates have been confirmed, Maja books the tickets for Sweden. We leave on the evening of Sunday May 30.

The timing of this is quite mad because way back when Maja was booking her ticket to come to London she had to give a return date because of the whole Brexit thing. She totally arbitrarily chose June 1. Well, given the timing of these flights, and the slight time difference, we’ll be arriving in Sweden from Ireland just after midnight as the calendar ticks into May 31. 

Day seven

Thursday May 20

A total crash today. Just exhausted. This has been happening quite a lot this week as we’ve woken with plans to organise this or that, had something to eat, and then just crashed. But today is particularly spectacular. Everyday so far we’ve been up early, sometimes by 6am or even earlier. Today Maja is up by 9 and in the studio playing, but Mark doesn’t even begin to emerge until 11:30.

Day nine

Saturday May 22

Mark:

The studio is looking really cool now!! And we’re starting to get the house in really good shape regarding total cleaning and organising. It’s beginning to look like a place to really call home now.

With this, we’re starting to think more about music, especially Maja, who is starting to play guitar more and more, saying, I think me and the guitar are going to be friends.

With the studio in good shape, we spend the evening in it listening to my songs which Maja has compiled. There are quite a few in here that could form the basis of any musical plans we have when we start to get properly on that.

Back and listening to the tracks compiled by Maja.

The house is now more or less ready and a lot of the settling in work is done, so now thoughts can turn to Sweden, which is now just over a week away. With that, thoughts turn to which song, or songs we’re going to work on from the compiled tracks. Although we’re calling ourselves a musical duo, we still have nothing we can actually play. We don’t want to go to Sweden, tell people we’re in Ireland pursuing music, and have nothing that we can play.

Day 12

Tuesday May 25

Over the past few days we’ve got into trying to play a few of my old songs. We got the list down to five from the 50 or so we have. Top of that list is Can I Fly and we’ve started tinkering with it to get it to a key Maja can sing it in, and then maybe adding a few more bits and pieces. It’s not quite coming together as quickly as we thought it would. 

Day 13

Wednesday May 26

As I’ve been working through my SBL Player’s Path course, Maja has been working through her own online singing course that she signed up to. We both have a look at that today and really get into it together. Well, I intend to be doing some backing vocals, so I need to get in shape here as well. 

Today becomes a bit more significant when we confirm that we now have a place to stay in Sweden as Maja’s brother says he won’t be at his apartment for quite a while, so we can have it while we’re there. 

Day 15

Friday May 28

It’s been a breathless and momentous couple of weeks, and now we’re saying goodbye to our new home for a while as we head to Stockholm for Maja to have her surgery, go through the full recovery process, and then tie up all the loose ends from when she left for what she thought would be a few weeks in London.

Ireland is still in lockdown mode, bars are still closed, and traveling is still a bit tricky. But because Maja is going for surgery, I’m able to accompany her on this trip. We get to Dublin airport and are met with the most surreal sight. Not a single person is waiting to get through security when we arrive. And it’s barely more inhabited on the other side. This really is the strangest of travel experiences and it’s singular bizarreness is a quite fitting end to what has been a ridiculous up and down adventure ever since we first met at Heathrow all those hundreds of years back on February 19. Really only a little more than three months ago. It just doesn’t seem possible.

Stockholm, May 30 to 27 July 

What to write about what becomes a two month stay in Sweden? Not much really. Family stuff and Maja tying up some loose ends left over from when she traveled to London. And the minor wrist operation which was the reason we came in the first place.

Music really doesn’t happen as much as we thought it was going to and that does become a bit of a frustration. We try, but it never really feels right and somehow we just never quite manage to capture any momentum. There are probably simply too many other emotions and general weights in the air, so Maja gets on with her things and Mark helps out where he can while basically just trying to keep up with music practice and maybe start to develop a little as a guitar player. Maja joins in this from time to time and some musical advancement does occur but it’s really just a time of treading water a little and trying to get things in order.

Towards the end of July and after what has been a very hot summer with some lovely day trips and beach trips as we’ve made the most of our time here, it’s time to head home to Ireland. Because yes, it really has started to feel like that, Maja even lamenting that she already misses the rain. And together, we have visions of the place we’ve only barely lived in for two weeks. Oh how we want to get back to it and start to explore what we could become. For whatever mysterious reason, we just haven’t been able to do that here. We can only hope that once we’re in our own space with our own studio and our own time, we can start to find our own sound, our own songs and our own music. 

The Second Ireland Diary

Day one

Wednesday July 28 2021

Maja:

The morning is spent packing as we finally prepare to leave Stockholm after what has somehow managed to become a two month visit.

We’re bringing with us three suitcases, a bass case containing my Fender P bass, and carry on luggage. It is a really heavy load. At the airport we discover we have overpacked the suitcases and have to get what we can into our carry-ons. We manage to get it all down to 23 kg, 23 kg and 28 kg. With the allowed limit per suitcase at 23, this means one extra fee of 450kr – around €45, which is great.

Mark:

Brilliant, but in the panic pack we keep out the biggest shoes for me, a pair of Doc Martens. It’s only now as we begin our walk to the terminal that I discover that they really are too small for me. I struggle for a while but it is too much and I end up having to take them off and hustle to the gate in my socks. Well, at least we’re on a smooth airport floor and not outdoor gravel but it still isn’t much fun and just a little undignified. This is how I leave Sweden.

Maja:

Arriving at Dublin it’s two buses to get to Heuston, the central train station. Between changes we have to struggle with the weight of all our luggage. Not a fun walk. Arriving at the station we have a nasty surprise. I checked train timetables last Sunday and saw there was a train leaving for Galway at 20:30, which would stop off at Clara. Great, we thought. What we didn’t see was that that train was only departing on Sundays. The rest of the week the last train leaves at 19:30. We’ve arrived at 19:50, missing it by just 20 minutes. What train has its latest departure on a Sunday? But a more important question is how in the world are we going to make it home now? Should we take a taxi? That costs 200 euro from here. No way. But a hotel will probably be the same price anyway, so maybe yes way. 

The customer service guy says there are no more trains even going our direction today so it really does look like taxi or hotel, so probably taxi. But then we find another station attendant who comes up with a town called Portarlington which is at least somewhat closer to home, and there is a train departing at 21:05, in 45 minutes. Great. That’s our new plan. Train there then a much cheaper taxi than expected to home. We have dinner at the burger place in the station, only managing that just before they close. Then it’s time to go catch that train to Portarlington. On the train I search like crazy for any taxi we can take. 

Just as I find a taxi company my internet connection dies. I’m crushed, and tired and exhausted and irate and all kinds of bad emotions, and it just seems like we won’t be able to get home tonight. Mark is equally crushed. After a little while we must pass through an internet wifi spot and the number suddenly becomes visible again. Mark writes it down quickly before it disappears again, and calls them up. And he is able to get us a taxi! The relief is immense! We’re on our way home now. The taxi driver will wait for us at the station, and we will be with him a little after 10pm. Arriving, we have to carry all our luggage across the bridge to the other platform to get to the exit gate. Which we discover is locked. It looks like we’ve made it this far only to get accidentally locked in a train station for the night. I feel panic coming on as we try to open the gate. Maybe a shout of despair escapes me because at the end of the platform a man suddenly appears and calls out that it’s possible to exit through where he is. We walk over there and see that there is a piece of the fence missing. Through this we’re able to walk out to the parking lot. There we find our taxi driver waiting, but with an ordinary sized car. Oh dear. Yet another challenge. How in the world will we fit everything in there?

So we start to tetris up the car, and eventually do manage to fit everything in with Mark squeezed in the back seat, half covered by the bass case. It’s really handy that he is so small. I sit down in the front seat, and we’re finally able to start the last part of our journey home. Home. 

The drive takes 40 minutes, and it’s hard to know what to speak about. We’re both exhausted beyond, and the driver has a little bit of a hard time with small talk as well. So mainly, we just enjoy the fact that we will finally reach home soon. 

Walking in, and dropping all our things in the kitchen we both feel this incredible sense of relief. We’re finally home. And it’s so nice here. Then, as we look through the place, we see we have everything we need. We really can’t believe how well stocked up it all is. It really feels as though the elves came and did a total number on the place, but of course the elves were us. Two months ago. Thankyou to us of two months ago. Courtesy of our elvish selves we even have plenty of cold beer in the fridge so we pour ourselves one pint of Guinness each. ‘Cheers Mark. Thank you for coming to Sweden with me, but I am so glad we’re back home now.’

We sit in the kitchen, drinking our pints silently, much like we did on that epic first day when we arrived from London. We’re both too tired to really say anything. It’s a moment of celebration, but equally a moment for us both to start to heal our wounds. Soul and body are both exhausted beyond, and there is no way for us to be alert right now. We finish the pint without saying many words beyond faint expressions of the immense relief to be back home, and then we go back to bed. 

I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow. 

Day three

Friday July 30

Maja:

How can you wake up and still be so tired? I don’t get it. And Mark is completely gone too, and he is probably feeling it a little bit more because he had his first Covid vaccine yesterday. I feel tired too, but I somehow also feel absolutely energetic and want to do something. But I am too tired to really want to do anything. What a dilemma. Anyways, waking up I just feel like I need to enjoy our music room a little bit so I leave Mark in bed and go down to play some guitar. It’s good to get my hands on an instrument. I haven’t been able to do that in a while. I practice some chords, and then just some power chords. I’m not really mindful of playing any songs, since I literally have no repertoire, but I know a bunch of music theory and some chords and how to groove. So I am able to make some nice sounding rhythms out of it. Then it’s back to bed to rest some more. There really isn’t much more to today than that.

Day six

Monday August 2

Today is the first day we’ve both really felt awake since we got back. So for the first time since we moved here we decide to go out and have a proper look at this town we’re living in. The Covid thing has moved on a little since we’ve been away and places have started opening again. Pubs in Ireland opened two days before we arrived. But we forget that it’s a bank holiday so all the shops are still closed. We still manage to have a decent look around. It doesn’t take that long. It really is a small town. We count nine pubs but only four look like they’ve opened. Some look like they might not reopen at all. Maybe they didn’t make it through the lockdown period, or maybe they were closed before even then. There’s no way of telling. In any case, with Mark only just having started his vaccine cycle, it will be a while before we can go into any of them and properly start socialising and meeting people. 

We can still see that we really have landed in a good looking town. It has everything you could ask for given how we were looking for a countryside place for a cheaper house so we could make noise and do our thing.

Day seven

Tuesday August 3

With the town now starting to open up even more, we’re delighted to discover the local library, which is right across the road from us. Oh, the little pleasures. Things like this really do make the difference. Now we both have library cards. It feels a little more like arriving.

Day nine

Thursday August 5 2021

Maja:

I wake up at 8 AM, seeing a message from a former colleague. That’s very unusual for me, but I am happy that he got in touch with me. It seems like something’s happened at the company I used to work at, and we take that excuse to have a catchup on the phone. I call him up immediately, and we chat about this, that and the other for about two hours. It’s really cool to hear what’s happened at work since I left, and to hear what he has been up to. But it’s also sad, since these kind of catch ups are usually prompted by some kind of problems happening. I am also able to tell him what I’ve been up to, which is refreshing. It’s always nice to have a friendly ear that listens on the other side, it really means a lot.

So I’m up and alert at 10am and go down to the studio where I find Mark equally alert, doing his morning stretches. ‘Hey, Mark. I feel like doing something… ’

‘Yeah, me too. What do you want to do?’

‘I’d really like us to get to music now. To actually do some of the things that have been bugging us for ages now.’

Mark lights up.

Mark:

It really has been weighing on us so much that for one reason or another we haven’t been really able to do any music. It’s like you know, when you fall out of practise; for every day that you don’t touch your instrument it just gets harder to pick it up and before you know it, weeks then months have gone by and you’ve almost forgotten how to even play the thing.

Maja:

Yes. This is kind of where we are. At our stage right now, it feels almost impossible to know where to really start. In the studio we start to look for the lyrics of the songs Mark wrote a long time ago. We have a couple of printouts, and we’ve been talking about working on a song called Wide Blue Yonder.

I start up by doing some vocal warmups, singing along to a video on my computer, and I hear Mark sing along next to me while he does some runs of his guitar. It’s quite hard to get back to singing, I haven’t been doing any singing whatsoever in a while now, so I feel like I am losing it. It doesn’t feel comfortable hitting low or high pitches and my voice almost feels hoarse. It really isn’t a good sign when you’re supposed to practise the songs to make them performance ready. And we’ve maybe not been approaching things in the best way. For example, when we were in Ireland last, we focused way too long on trying to play the song Can I Fly which I never was able to sing comfortably no matter how much we altered it. I mean, I am able to sing it, but it doesn’t feel comfortable and it really demands too much from my vocals leaving me feeling tired and hoarse afterwards. So what we’ve realised is that having overworked and rewritten and rewritten that song, we haven’t gotten really anywhere, and a lot of frustration has been built up over not nailing that one song.

So today we decide to change our approach. We’re going to start on a new song, see how it feels and not spend too much time on it. Give the song a go, and then we can continue working on it later if we like it. In between we’ll also try a few others, so we can find something that works for us and also feel like we’re working through different parts of our first potential repertoire. It’s a strategy that we hope will help us reach a set much quicker, and also save us from frustration when things prove to be hard. I’m not a professional level singer just yet. I am still learning the ropes so we have to adapt to that. We’re not going to be an act at all if I’m not able to sing our songs.

So Wide Blue Yonder it is to get things started. It’s a song that Mark has had recorded professionally and I’ve it loads of times, so I am fairly comfortable with how the feel of the song should be. Just as we’ve decided all this, the rain starts pouring down. It’s absolutely torrental. We suddenly abandon our as yet begun session and run up to our bedroom and sit down on the little cozy window sitting area we’ve made, looking out on our crossroads, watching the rain clash with the ground. It hits so hard,it splashes up several inches. Water starts to collect in the lower parts on the road, and it’s soothing to watch. Mark says to me, wait right here, and runs down. He comes straight back up bringing the lyrics and the guitar. And he sits down on the bed, holding the guitar ready to play and looks at me slyly. Let’s just go for it.

It’s hard. There’s no way around it and I can’t express it in any other way. It’s really hard work. I try to sing, and Mark stops me. ‘No that pitch is wrong, it should be like this. ‘ Or like this: ‘No, you need to take a breath here, and shorten the tone, let the words get more space.’ Things of that character. All. The. Time. 

It’s quite frustrating since as soon as I start I get shut down immediately, and it is really playing with my confidence in a bad way. But the great part with this is that I’m never let down. I’m never left alone to just guess how it should be. He has a vision, and he helps and guides me every step of the way to reach it. It’s really hard, but it is the right way to do it. I’m frustrated about it, but at the same time grateful. This is the way it has to be done. I just have to do it, and we are doing it.

The session goes by with a combined feeling of frustration and relief over finally getting somewhere decent. It’s not like we reach a perfect state of anything, and Mark’s constant critique is hard to handle. But what that really means, is that when he says that anything is OK, it’s performance ready. It’s harsh, but we’re able to feel that we’re getting somewhere. And it’s great to know that my voice is good. And at times, I’m even doing good parts of the song. It’s really different to work with an experienced songwriter. 

I’m really glad we’re taking the time to really work on this. We have longed for this so much but have never been able to really get to it. The ‘not getting to it’ has eaten on both of our confidences. After finishing our session we realise that we’ve been at it for nearly three hours. That’s incredible. We kind of drop down on the bed afterwards and look at the clouds racing over the sky through our skylight. It’s amazing what we did just now. We almost have Wide Blue Yonder, and we sang through Can I Fly again as well. It’s amazing to have finally started again. Or as we agree upon, finally started for the first time. We’ve been wanting to get to it for so long, but not really been able to. We’ve only really dabbled, and never truly got anywhere. So today feels like the real beginning of our project. It’s devastating that such a long time has gone by, but that can’t be helped. Now is everything we have, and we finally have momentum. 

We go back down to the studio after resting a bit and I start to look for the lyrics of the songs Mark wrote a long time ago. I have them on my computer, and we listen a bit to the rough home demos he has of them as I just print out every song that feels relevant for now. Which is a list of songs which Mark practised the guitar on while I was fixing with moving and divorce errands in Sweden. We need to have a list with things we can just attack so we don’t lose momentum. We can’t lose it again. I print out 14 songs, which I bluetack to the wall so they’re visible and ready to hand. It’s great to have what you’re working on visible. It isn’t really enough to have it on the computer.

This time, we have prepared the PA with a microphone for me. It’s good to get used to it, and using the PA means I don’t have to sing so loudly, which will save my voice so we can work more. 

Off we start, and I look at the lyrics in front of me. ‘I wanna give When I’m With You a shot,’ I say

‘Sure.’ Mark grabs the guitar and off we go. It’s just impossible. No matter what key we choose, when the verse sounds good, the chorus is off, and when we get the chorus to work, we discover we’re in the wrong key to be able to sing the verse. We soon stop and go for the next song. Run From Our Hearts, and it’s promising. It’s a hard song, a lot of timings that need perfection and it’s vocally demanding. Mark has to really think about how he wants to show it to me, how we should alter it. We work on that song in different keys, and I feel that using the PA makes it so much easier to sing prettier vocals, which this song demands. It’s really fun to work on this song. Frustrating when I don’t get it, but with the proper guidance Mark gives me, it really feels OK. Another two hours or so and our focus starts to drop. We’ve been able to get the first verse and the chorus to a good place. Wonderful progress and a great start off our project. 

We go to bed tired and happy.

Day 10 

Friday August 6

Mark:

The fence in our back garden was taken down while we were away. Which means the whole back area is now open to us. Which means we now have a river at the bottom of the garden. And we also have a huge garden in an old mill site containing the ruins of two large mill buildings. It’s mad to just be able to go out and walk around and contemplate hanging out here in the mornings, or whenever. A spectacular place to go, sit and have a cup of tea.

Maja gets her second Covid vaccination booked for Monday. I have to wait a little longer. Until we get this properly sorted, we won’t be able to play live at all, although to be fair, we’re still quite a long way off being able to do that anyway.

But we are on it, starting today’s session by working on We Run From Our Hearts, a song I was asked to write for an artist in Brazil way back in 2008 just as I was getting ready to move from Cork to Madrid. This song was begun in one city and finished in the other. Nothing came from it but it was still cool to be asked and I got what I thought was a really good song out of it.

As we get to it today, we totally rewrite the breakout section, meaning it’s at least a semi current song for us now as it has new stuff in it we’ve just created. Can I Fly did that too and I’m starting to think that as we continue to get to my back catalogue, other songs there could get the same treatment, hopefully improving them and also bringing them into whatever sound it is we end up making. Right now we’re very much groping but we do have a whole body of material from which to grope with which is a really great start to have. If nothing else, we don’t have to sit around struggling to write songs, forcing them out or waiting for inspiration to strike. No, we have a whole list to just dip in, see what we pull out, then see what we do with it. As it is now with We Run From Our Hearts. This is the first time we manage to put together a full version of a song that we’re at least kinda happy with. It’s still very rough but that’s OK.

We do the same later with Breakthrough, a song I actually managed to get on Irish national radio all the way back when this was a newie. That would have been around 2001/2002. Damn. Twenty years ago. So it’s a very very old song. But apart from friends of the time, no-one really knows it which makes it a new song. We manage a full run through of this one today as well. Between that, We Run From Our Hearts, and general song exploration, we’ve been in and around the studio all day.

Also, since we’ve got back, as well as the two kinda completed songs just mentioned, we’ve also put real work into Wide Blue Yonder, When I’m With You and Can I Fly, which of course we worked on before Sweden, and a little while we were there. We might just be starting to inch off the ground here. OK. Maybe not. But hopefully I can say we are at least now taxi-ing with intent.

Day 12

Sunday August 8

We don’t do much today, and yesterday’s efforts just seemed to lead to a lot of dead-ends through frustratingly unproductive sessions. The same is happening today. We’re pushing the cart but we’re just not getting anywhere. We’ve been pushing hard this past week and we have to admit it’s caught up with us a bit. 

So we decide to develop things physically instead. We go out and buy a big screen which will be better for studio and production work rather than trying to stare at a small laptop. When we get back, we go to work setting up the studio, with this new screen as something of a centrepiece. When we’re done, it looks like we have a respectable looking studio. Brilliant. But that’s it for us today. No attempt at any further practice.

Day 13

Monday August 9

Maja gets her second vaccine, and we’re straight back home. Our small green shoots of momentum may take a hit here as the vaccine gets a hold and knocks her out for a few days, but before that happens, we’re right back on it again. A one hour session on Breakthrough really is a bit of a breakthrough as it produces our best work and sound yet. The song feels almost complete after that as we tinker with long established parts and it starts get get moulded into something that might just sound like us. As yet, we still have no idea what that is.

Like We Run From Our Hearts, Breakthrough is another song that straddles countries. I started writing it while living in Orpington, a town just inside the very outer edge of London. So outer, in fact, that it wasn’t even a part of London at the time. Soon after beginning this song I’d made the move to Cork where I’d been invited to become a feature editor on the Evening Echo after being recommended by a London headhunter consulting for them. So Breakthough began in Orpington and was completed in Cork, going through a few versions and rewrites before it became the first song recorded by what would become my own Cork band, Fly On The Wall, which began with just myself and my friend Aibhlin, who I met at Fred Zepellins’ open mic night. A night I actually ended up running after I’d been in Cork a year or so.

Me and Aibhlin recorded that song, along with Can I Fly. RTE had a national radio office in Cork and the DJs were quite accessible and relatively easy to get hold of, plus I was in the media myself which made it even easier. I got these songs to John Creedon who had the mid afternoon show on RTE Radio 1, and he gave Breakthrough it’s first ever radio play, putting it on immediately after the midday news bulletin. John Creedon predicted big things for us as the song played out, and then soon after, 96FM, the city’s leading music station, added us to their playlist. Then we got a record deal. With a subsidiary of a major. But nothing happened. We just didn’t push our tiny opening enough. We tried to get a band together around ourselves but just couldn’t really get any of the lineups to work. And that version of Fly On The Wall petered out. But here we are again with Breakthrough being the first song of our potential repertoire. The first song we might actually be able to perform for people.

Later we go out for a walk and end up on a kind of date, sitting on a bench overlooking Clara’s green, with chips, curry and beer. Here we work on some of the vocal aspects of Breakthrough as we continue to polish what we have.

When we get back home we go straight into the studio. I pick up the guitar, smash through a few chords, just messing really, then some lyrics and something of a melody start to fall out of me. When I take a toilet break, I ask Maja to see if she could pick up where I’ve left off with lyrics. She does, and when I return we realise we’ve really got a hold of something here and we just keep hammering it out. All the time we record what we’re doing so that ideas can be found again but we really just keep going. Exactly an hour after I first picked up the guitar in here and started blasting those chords, All Kinds Of Wonderful is finished. We didn’t even sit down with a concept or a single lyrical idea. Now we’re sitting with a whole new song in our hands. The first full song we’ve written together and I feel tremendous relief at that, just the fact that something complete and new has finally been created. I didn’t write it on my own, but this is my first song in over seven years, the last one written sometime in the spring of 2014 when I essentially gave up on trying to be a songwriter and decided to become a professional bass player instead. As with anything new from the creative process, this might prove to be no good at all, but just to have a new song feels massive. I am giddy with joy about it.

Today really has been a breakthrough.

Day 14 

Tuesday August 10

After last night’s burst of activity, the vaccine catches up with Maja. She spends all day in bed and I spend all day taking care of her. But we have a new song. We have our first very own brand new song. I still can’t believe it. We’re also starting to think it might not be as finished as we might have thought, but that’s absolutely fine.

Day 16

Thursday August 12

We return to working on All Kinds Of Wonderful, trying to sort out the bridge. This never felt quite nailed. Late night, we struggle with one of the verses, trying so many different variations of one line that just don’t work. Then Maja comes up with an idea while Mark is the shower and that’s it. 

Day 17
Friday August 13

Mark:

I’m up early. Not long after 7am. I’m straight to it in the studio, working on All Kinds Of Wonderful for two hours, during which I fix the bridge and add an ending. Then Maja comes down. I play her where I am, and we then decide to take a break from this and go out and discover the country a little. This leads us to a drive out to Portlick Millennium Forest, which Maja has discovered online this morning.

What most people do when arriving at a beauty spot is stop the car, get out and start exploring. We don’t do that. When we stop, I reach behind me and pull out the book containing the lyrics to All Kinds Of Wonderful. There’s one little piece I still don’t feel right with and we go over it now, basically songwriting while sitting in the front seats of a stationary car, haggling over a single word here and there. We do this for about an hour until we feel we really have it, changing a few more bits while we’re at it. It might have taken a single hour to feel like we had a song back at the beginning, but it’s taken days and hours and hours to really feel like it could be considered something even nearing complete. 

We’re now ready to go out into the forest and we discover it to be a truly magical place, complete with a fairy walk designed, it appears, by local school children, with signposts and little fairy houses and ornamental displays hanging from trees. Just a totally new experience. Then we come to a clearing which contains the ruins of a huge house. Nothing left but the first metre or so of perimeter wall and some vague outline of where rooms might have been. In the same clearing is a rope swing and of course we go and make the most of that. This whole little secret area could be a great video location. We store it in the mental bank. This is also a walk that we could return to again and again.

Back home and we hit the studio again for a five hour session. This takes in Breakthrough, When I’m With You which comes together very quickly after our painful earlier experiences with it, and of course All Kinds Of Wonderful. Then, over dinner we continue listening to other songs from my back catalogue to see what more can be reconnected with or brought out for us to play with and incorporate. Once again we marvel at how I’d almost let the entirety of this songwriting trove disappear as it sat under a bed in London on a broken computer until Maja came along.

Then, on the computer we’re listening to it all from now, I go on a bit of an impromptu explore and discover a hidden file containing a whole bunch of lyrics and seven more completed songs. Seeing these now I’m like, ‘Oh yes, of course.’ But they’d evaded my memory totally until now.

Day 18

Saturday August 14

We get All Kinds Of Wonderful somewhat finished. We thought it was a full, new song on Monday, but it really has taken the rest of the week to tinker, craft and bash it and get it into real match fit fighting shape. 

Day 19

Sunday August 15

Mark:

While out and about on my own shopping for a few bits, I come across a bar in town called The Trap which has a poster advertising live music for last night. No idea what kind of music it was, but I tell Maja about it the second I’m back. She says she never imagined we’d have ended up in a place with live music just around the corner. 

Then we get talking about experiences of playing in Ireland and the general positive reaction here to original music. Here, I tell her of a great day I had with my songwriting friends in Cork when we decided to go on a pub crawl, but would play our own original songs in each place, each person playing some kind of instrument to accompany the lead songwriter with each person taking it in turns to be the lead. During the whole day, only one bar told us no. This was when we walked into a large place, which was totally empty except for the one barman who was clearly very hungover. He took one look at us with our instruments and just called out, ‘No.’ Fine. The place was dead anyway. 

Once we’re on it, we log another five hours of studio time including more writing. Nothing that truly sticks, but we’re really starting to feel a momentum building now.

Day 20

Monday August 16

Maybe with yesterday’s session swirling round in my head, I have no idea, but I wake at 6am with a start and a new song already forming. I have to get up. Now. 

I go down to the studio and this thing just falls out of me. Melody, rhythm and lyrics all spilling out onto the page so quickly. Too quickly. I take a pause from writing after I’ve got about a page and a half of A4 paper down. Going back to the beginning, I realise with dismay that I can’t remember anything of the rhythms I was writing so confidently into. OK. Some of the rhythms. But some of the lines I just can’t get to fit into the one line they really should fit into. But I still feel what I had and I stick at it, writing with no musical accompaniment. By the time I sit back to survey what I’ve done. It’s called Baked Honey. What’s baked honey? I have no idea but I’ve just written a song about it. Give me baked honey/I’m so sunny I could melt a radiator. It then goes on to talk about how the terminator tickling protagonist invented science and stole the S from maths.

When I sing it to Maja – without guitar because it has no guitar part yet, she has no idea what to make of it. But I think as the day goes on it grows on her. I think. Finally, she says, it’s a children’s song. It just has to be. It would be perfect on a kids’ TV channel.

Late tonight we’re sitting at our kitchen table. Which has become our hang out place of choice in the house when we’re not in the studio, although the floor window in the bedroom, complete with ground throw and cushions is also very cosy.

Maja’s sketching parts of my face absentmindedly as our thoughts meander and another bottle of wine gets opened. Then she looks up, as though taken by a sudden idea. Dreamily, lazily, she stares at me and then says, ‘You know, I really do like you better when you’re naked.’ Oh my, oh my, oh my. I have to write that down. Suddenly other phrases start coming. I pick up the guitar and a whole chorusey type thing emerges as we bounce ideas backwards and forwards. We feel we really have something here and carry on at it. After half an hour or so of frenetic activity we have a chorus and a verse, and of course an idea of what the whole thing is about. That will do for now. I really do take this as a session. It’s very rare a whole song comes out in one go, although it does feel like that happened with Baked Honey earlier. But as we’ve seen, even with the one hour complete song of All Kinds Of Wonderful, it still took days and hours and hours of actual work to make something we could consider finished. So yeah, I’ll take what we’ve done just now. This really is something to come back to.

Day 23

Thursday August 19

Every band I’ve ever been in has had one dilemma. What to call itself. It really can be a horrible little period as people come up with all kinds of inappropriate or just boring names. Here, I often mention bands like Guns’n’Roses. Or Suede. Or Oasis. I know where it came from but I think Guns’n’Roses is just the worst name for a band ever, and the others aren’t much better. It can be like naming a pet. Does it really matter? Just make it simple and memorable. Biscuits. That’ll do. Or AC/DC, after one of the guys saw a label on a vacuum cleaner apparently. LIke every other project I’ve ever had, we’ve been struggling to come up with a name for ourselves. Well, Maja has an absolute flash today and suddenly calls it out to me like it’s the mosts obvious thing in the world. ‘Mark, I’ve got it,’ she says, full of the confidence of knowing. Go on. The Diaries. Now, this is the thing for me. A band name has to be something the whole band goes, yes, yes, that’s it. Otherwise it doesn’t work. Just my opinion. Well this, it just hits me like a rocket. Like, how could we not have thought of it before? It’s just perfect. It’s what I started way back in July 2014. It’s what Maja started in May 2020. And it’s what we combined to start together in February 2021. And our life, pretty much, is what we think will inspire much of our songwriting. 

So, just like that, ladies and gentlemen, I introduce you, and us, to…The Diaries.

That finally decided, Maja gets onto domain names and finds thediaries.band is available. And here we are today.

Day 25

Saturday August 21

Maja gets busy creating our new website. While she’s doing that in the studio downstairs, I’m upstairs working on I Like You Better When You’re Naked. While I’m doing the dishes, I have a flash of inspiration for one of the verses, and with that the song is done. When we’re finished with our respective tasks, we get together in the studio and just sing through a whole bunch of songs and have a general mess about with them. This is exactly where we’ve wanted to be for so long. To have something of a repertoire we can just have fun with. It’s been a hard place to get to, but here we are.

And now, in our studio, we have all our prospective songs up on the wall which is full of lyric sheets of songs existing and to be worked on. You could cal it our Wonderwall. 

This becomes even more fun when we watch our first full movie in here – Yesterday. The one about the guy who discovers he lives in a world where he’s the only one who knows about The Beatles and sets about learning all their songs to claim as his own. There’s a scene where he contemplates a wall full of lyrics. As he does so, we look around our own little place. Yes, it’s exactly like that. Except, these lyrics and these songs belong completely to us.

Day 29

Wednesday August 25

Rehearsal hits a new level today as we finally run through a few songs in performances that we would be happy to put on a stage. Breakthrough is one of them, but the first is We Run From Our Hearts. It’s so amazing to hear the way Maja sings it. So delicate and so absolutely inside the song. Now we just need another eight or nine like this and we’re ready to go. This really is a hard, hard, process, but we are getting there. Today really feels like a milestone on the journey.

Day 30

Thursday 26 August

Maja:

It’s been really hard to get to a place where I can finally perform any song in a comfortable manner. And I just feel amazing regarding my performance yesterday. I did great finally nailing that piece. When I wake up, the first thing I do is to hit the studio with Mark. I go downstairs and am ready to go again. Mark’s been up writing or doing something like that since around 6am I think, so I make two cups of tea for us. Tea in one hand, Mark in the other, I drag him out to the garden singing my vocal warmups I try to do everyday. We go to the river by the mill, the water is flowing very nicely and we sing together. I am getting stronger. I can feel it. My coordination is up and it feels easier to hit the notes, and I sing more powerfully. Mark isn’t doing a half assed job either. He is getting better at hitting pitches he used to be uncomfortable in and is generally singing much stronger than he was a few months ago, so that’s all good. It’s a bit surreal, you know, standing there, beneath the ruins of the mill, looking at the river flowing at such a fast speed. It makes you understand why they chose to build the mill here over 150 years ago. We get back inside and start working with the songs. First up is Run From Our Hearts, the song I finally had a breakthrough with yesterday. I now know how I should sing that song. We listen to the track once before starting, and I am absolutely amazed. I sound good! The voice holds everywhere, and yes I am making mistakes, but that’s OK. In a few recordings my voice has sounded a bit strained making it uncomfortable to listen to. But that’s not the case now. It sounds smooth. Melodic. Lovely even. I had never sung the song like this before. It’s nailed. Spot on, but I can still hear how at places I struggle with phrasing and lyrics. 

I’m ready to go again. We start up with the same song, and work on it for an hour or so. And we’re finally getting somewhere. It sounds decent. Phrasing and lyrics are improving, but most importantly, we’ve found the key and the voice I should sing it in. 

Finally.

Finally finally finally.

Finally.

We take a break, and feel wonderful about ourselves. This is finally getting somewhere. When we’re back at our next session, we decide to approach it by just going for any of our songs we think we can get. Mark wrote down a list with songs we could try that we kinda have in our repertoire now there are seven songs on that list. We go through all of these songs, some of them only once, some of them a couple of times. And they fit. I’m just able to sing them. It’s absolutely wonderful. Mark plays around with different keys, and I am able to do something I’ve never been able to before; everytime we decide to try a new key, I am able to go with it immediately and am spot on in tune with my vocals. I’ve always felt confused how to do this when keys have just been changed on me. But now, I just need to hear the new pitch of the first chord and I know exactly where to place myself. It’s like something just unlocked in me. 

By the time we finish this session, which clocks in at two and a half hours itself, we’ve been at it for more than five hours today, and we have almost seven songs ready. From not having had a single one just 24 hours ago that we felt was near. It’s enormous.

Day 33

Sunday 29 August

Maja:

Mark’s up at 6:30am and working on various songs, setting up studio equipment, writing, stuff like that. But really, we’re both too tired for any real recording

Early evening and we’re just chilling in the studio. I’m reading and Mark’s chatting to people on FB. Just catching up with people, while also having one eye on who to maybe talk to to get something of a tour started. We’re thinking about Spain.

Then we have a eureka moment, which shoots adrenaline all over the room and wakes us both up. We’re alert now. Rather than think about a country and see who’s touring that, we have a moment of clarity and decide to see who’s touring, anywhere in the world, and see if we can get ourselves onto that.

We almost have everything sorted for that but decide to wait until we have a seven to nine song set and then really go for it. We now realise that we could end up anywhere in the world.

This wakes us up enough to start to think about recording to be able to have something to show people, but we both know energy levels like this could drop as quickly as they arrived and we could just get frustrated. We decide to leave it, relax for the evening and tackle it fresh in the morning.

Day 34

Monday 30 August

Six studio hours in the studio today as we try to get things recorded, and also try to write a few bits and pieces. 

Day 35

Tuesday August 31

We very much put the time in yesterday but really didn’t feel like we got anywhere. So we just take a time out today.

Day 41

Monday September 6

We’ve spent the past few days trying to record things and it’s been equal levels fun and frustrating. Not much we’re going to keep, but it’s all good experience and studio practice, not to mention good general music practice.

But after all that, today we feel a bit flat so we dial it down a little and don’t push ourselves too much. It’s a day for yoga, swimming pool and basic chilling.

Day 45

Friday September 10

For the first time we’re able to play through our whole first set of seven songs and we get onto that first thing in the morning, working through to early afternoon. Mostly these are songs from my back catalogue including Breakthrough, When I’m With You, Wide Blue Yonder and We Run From Our Hearts. But we do now have our first own original in there – All Kinds Of Wonderful. It’s a rough performance with some edges that need to be smoothed out, but we really feel we are almost there with something of a set in the 20 minute mark. Enough for a support slot should the opportunity arrive. We still have a little way to go before this whole thing is stage ready, but it’s a huge deal that we can stand here and play through 20 minutes of repertoire covering this many of our own songs.

There’s another huge deal today as we receive our new business cards and our very own Diary beer mats. Yep. We have beer mats now. Absolutely brilliant. 

Day 46

Saturday September 11

We’ve decided we’re going to London. We have to sell the car we bought to move here with and it has UK plates, so London it is. I call my friend Kristoff who, among other things, was a big fan of The Insiders, my bass/acoustic cover duo with Dan who played in Kristoff’s bar The White Hart and a few other bars in central London, most notably The Marquis just by Trafalgar Square and run by Kristoff’s friend Tommy. 

Kristoff suggests a place we could stay. A mutual friend of ours is now executive chef in a central London bar and also happens to be an ambitious and very talented songwriter, music producer and bar DJ. His name is Alex, I know him very well, he was also a big fan of The Insiders, and my bass playing in particular. So much so that I played sessions on his own tracks. We get onto Alex and he confirms that yes, we can stay in his place. Brilliant. Sorted. His place is on Upper Street, Islington, one of my favourite places in London.

We think about dates and agree we will go sometime around the 20th, with Maja then to go to Sweden on the 28th and me to return to Ireland the same time. 

We talk about where we are and agree the target is to have three tracks recorded and ready to go by the time we go to London. This will mean we will go there with everything ready for us to be able to present ourselves. We’re going in probably nine days time, maybe a little earlier. So between now and then, the focus is just to get songs ready and recorded. It still isn’t fully up and running, but Maja will finally be able to see and experience a little of my London. Of real London.

Day 49

Tuesday September 14

Full studio day. Start 10am, finish 6:30

Day 50

Wednesday September 15

Pretty much the same as yesterday. Full studio day in preparation for recording

Day 51

Thursday September 16

Maja:

We’ve been at it for ages. Ages. And today, we are finally ready to start to record our first video demos. I’m feeling very tired and spend most of the morning in bed. When I finally manage to drag myself out from under the covers, it’s well after noon. Mark’s been on it the whole morning, organising the studio for the recording, but I felt like the best I could do was to rest. I take a shower and put on some clothes. For today’s recording I think I’ll go for neutral and smart. So, no makeup, and just something easy when it comes to clothing. 

Mark:

The plan for today is to do one takes. Just us, song and guitar. Turn the camera on and go. The idea is that we just get stuff in the can today. A kind of safety net of recordings that just work. Then tomorrow, we’ll really go for it, confident in the knowledge that we at least have something useable to present ourselves with. Once we’ve got safeties in the can, we can just go for every take and if we blow it all, we’re still good. Maybe we’ll even get to that today.

Maja:

Setting up, we now amplify both of our voices, since Mark has started doing backing vocals now. Using the voice in this way, with a microphone even though the songs aren’t that loud, means I’m able to sing almost in a whisper at times. This gives me more melodic control, and it just sounds so much better. It’s been a theme that’s been very present these last couple of weeks as I’ve been developing my own way of singing. I’m not a trained singer, I’ve not done anything like this ever before. Choir, well yeah, but nothing else. I’ve also been working on an online singing course but for now, I’m still really just doing it my way.

Yesterday I had a breakthrough regarding this. Usually when I sing songs like our song A Listing – our reworking of an old Drunken Monkees song that Mark wrote with Rick – it’s like my voice kind of breaks. I go for a pitch, and sing it powerfully, as I imagine it should sound, and my voice just breaks in the middle of it. It doesn’t feel very nice. It’s a bit painful and singing like that doesn’t seem sustainable. So I’ve known for a while now that my singing technique is lacking, and it’s been one of my priorities to figure out how to sing better. So yesterday, after a long day of rehearsing, I just sat at the table as Mark fingerpicked the guitar and gently, gently sang. That’s how it should be done. At least for now.

Mark:

It doesn’t quite go as smoothly as we were hoping and it’s take after take as red light syndrome, or something, kicks in. If we were hoping for the safeties to come quick to get onto the real thing we were kidding ourselves. It takes a full day to get three songs just about right, even if the performances aren’t quite ready to break Youtube. A bit flat to be honest, but we have something of ourselves and our songs ready to go out there now. Breakthrough, Your Smile Is Going Round and A Listing. We can have another go to really nail this tomorrow. For now, we’re done and with London coming up the day after tomorrow, it’s time for us to go out and finally start meeting some of the locals round here. Yep. We’re finally going to the great Irish pub, starting with The Trap.

The Covid hangover is still here which means you have to sit at a table, even at the bar, where tables are set up with a perspex screen between the bar and customers. Walking into The Trap for the first time and we see it’s pretty decent sized and quite traditional looking. Stone floor, plenty of TV screens and a few different seating areas, although basically an open design. A semi square U-shape with a an area to the left of the door, something of a stage area to the right, the main bar in front, and then off to the left of that, another area again. We will learn later that there is quite a bit more to this place, but this is what we have for now. There’s a decent crowd in. Not packed, but enough to provide a bit of atmosphere. There’s also an available table at the bar with a couple of guys at the next table over by the wall. We take the free one, order our first Irish pints, and cheers to today’s recording. We’ve got at least this far. It does feel a bit of a milestone.

There’s quite a cool vibe in here and we hear the guys next to us talking music. After a while we turn and say hi to them and are welcomed by Seamus and Mick, the latter being from Clara but with a strong Manchester accent. As we learn that they’re strong music fans, so they learn that we are too, and that we take it a bit further than that 

As we continue talking, Mick says, can we hear any of your songs? Could you sing anything? Way back I told Maja this kind of thing could happen. That people in Irish bars would sometimes just sing. I’m not entirely sure she ever believed me, but now, in her first ever outing to an Irish bar she is actually being asked to sing. We confer a little and she somewhat reluctantly and shyly agrees to do Breakthrough. No guitar, so just Maja it is. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and begins. It’s a gentle song and as soon as she’s into the first few lines, the people around the bar start to go quiet. Someone even gets shushed as they attempt to keep talking. Maja has immediately got the attention of the entire place. But with her eyes closed, she doesn’t at all see what happens next. People start to leave their places and walk over to us, over to Maja. She’s now got six or seven people in something of a semi circle around her, with a few more people sitting around the place paying full attention. Total silence all around. She comes to the final chorus and I can just feel the weight of the audience. Maja’s first ever audience. Captured. She finishes and the final words tail off. She opens her eyes and looks round in surprise as the place erupts into applause and compliments. I look over at Mick, who made this happen, and he’s nodding in approval and all but winks at me in appreciation. Well, that’s one way to say hello to the neighbourhood.

Day 52

Friday 17 September 2021

Nope. No chance of any real takes. What we did yesterday is what we have. How does today disappear from us? It totally does. Between shopping, packing and organising the house, we somehow manage to not get a spare moment and don’t finish the last chore until around 11pm when we collapse in bed in exhaustion. OK. We return to London tomorrow. This could be emotional.

The London Sweden Ireland Diary, days one to 20

Day one

Saturday 18 September 2021 

We’re out the door by 6am and straight in the car. The route is Clara to Belfast for the 10:30am ferry to Liverpool. Arrive in Liverpool at 6:30pm, then drive through England to arrive in London whenever that happens, but scheduled for four hours.

On the ferry we find a lovely spot by a window near the front and immediately get ourselves sorted out with tea. Yep, we brought all the necessaries with us.

We have a few internet plans including uploading yesterday’s videos and maybe some Diary writing, but the ferry’s internet isn’t too clever so we have to just sit back and enjoy the sea view instead, and then the fantastic scenery as the docks of Liverpool slowly come into view. 

We make decent time coming to London until we hit the city then of course the traffic greatly slows us down. Then the memories come quicker and quicker for both of us as we go first through Archway and then Holloway. Then it gets really tricky as we hit the much more central area of Angel and have to find our way to the back of the pub through very unco-operative traffic. Trying to get your own parking space in London is incredibly difficult. For a visit, almost impossible. We’ve been told we’re able to park round the back of the pub for tonight, and will be OK tomorrow as it’s Sunday. But we’ll have to have it out by 8:30am Monday. Great. That’ll do. Especially as we’ve also managed to get a permanent place through a phone call to Per a few days ago. He told us there was free parking in the streets around where he lives in Turnpike Lane, quite far out in north London. We won’t see Peron this trip though as he’s away the entire time we’re here. 

After the heavy London traffic we arrive at the bar just after closing time which is perfect actually, as it means Alex has finished and he lets us in. The staff are also just settling down to after work drinks and we already happen to know some of them, including Tom and Molly. Molly we met last time we were here, and Tom used to work at Kristoff’s bar The White Hart, where I also worked a few help-out shifts. Tom also saw my duo The Insiders loads of times and we hung out a lot too. Other staff from The Marquis/White Hart axis have also found themselves here, in the way London bar staff do tend to spread around the place and find each other again and again. Get involved in London bars for long enough and you’ll know staff all over the city, as I do. Know the staff, and you have a short cut into an introduction to the bar’s social scene.

And here we are getting introduced to this one with a few of the trusted regulars staying behind for drinks as well. We’re introduced to them, and to Matteo the manager. We show everyone our beer mats and it’s fair to say they’re very impressed. Alex immediately says we should put a bunch of them up on the bar. So there they go, and with that we have our first presence in London. 

A few drinks down here, then the regulars leave and the remaining bar staff and myself and Maja go up to Alex’s apartment. By the time we make it to bed after this little after hours extra it’s gone 4am and we’ve been up for 22 hours.

Day two

Sunday September 19 2021

We’re up late. Of course we are. Out of the window of the front room of the apartment we’re looking down on a cool little sidestreet of Angel and we can’t believe we’re here, on our own in an apartment right in the centre of London. Leaving down the outside stairs, the city buildings of London almost loom over us with St Paul’s Cathedral almost dominating the scene. We really are bang in the middle of things here.

We’re not ready to go anywhere until two in the afternoon. I want to show Maja The Marquis and The White Hart and hopefully catch up with Tommy and Kristof respectively. Neither of them are around unfortunately, but we still manage Sunday roast in The Marquis.

Back to the apartment to rest up a little, then we take the car to Turnpike Lane where we find a free parking spot. Great. That’s that part taken care of. Then it’s time for The Blues Kitchen jam. Wow. It really is special walking back into this place, and with Maja this time for the first time she’s seeing the inside of it after walking past it so many times during lockdown.

It’s an amazingly nostalgic feeling to be walking back into here for the first time since March last year. There’s not a massive turnout of regulars, but I’m able to catch up with Freddy, Dre, Joe, and of course regular host Kez. And Mikey’s here; as with so many people new to The Blues Kitchen, he’s the person Maja’s most keen to meet so after saying a massive hi to Mikey myself, I introduce Maja to him and leave them to it.

Then, as I introduce Maja around to a few other people, and then inevitably to Kez, he happily tells me there aren’t many bass players in tonight. Yes, normally I would have been all over that, but instead, I reply now, ‘Could I please not play too much? I don’t want to leave Maja on her own too much.’ He looks at Maja, here for her first time, and says, ‘Of course. Absolutely.’ The one set I then get is with Rose McGowan, who goes and talks to Kez and requests me specifically. Yep. That works.

Normally after a Blues Kitchen there’d be a whole host of people heading to the next place, which would usually be The Elephant’s Head. But by the time it all finishes, there aren’t many people left around tonight. Maybe London still hasn’t yet hit full swing post Corona. But we’re still out so back into Camden it is and I introduce Maja to the late night club Joes. Swinging, rocking music and a great vibe. Welcome back Camden.

When it’s time for home, my automatic pilot sees me heading for the bus stop for Kentish Town. We’re almost at the stop when Maja says, aren’t we supposed to be on the other side of the road and going the other way into London? Oh yes. Oops. 

Day three

Monday September 20, 2021

We’ve been hearing in the media about how bars just can’t get staff anymore. A lot of foreigners work in bars and a lot of them went back home when the Covid lockdowns started; in my house, Camilla, Spanish, went home, and Maria, Portuguese, did the same. Neither returned. Camilla worked in a shop, Maria worked in a bar. So my own anecdotal experience reflects this. The same happened in The Lord Palmerston with a few people being slow to return. And yes, Brexit is a factor. Now, as we meet bar staff and talk to them, we’re really seeing the effects as we’re constantly hearing that people cannot get days off and are working themselves into stress and exhaustion. I think back now to the Costa Blanca when I went into every bar in Javea and shook out nothing. Well now the bars are the ones doing the looking and they are shaking out nothing. The shoe really has gone to the other foot.

Round here, Sunday night means Blues Kitchen. Monday night means Ain’t Nothin But… just off Regent Street in central central London. It’s just so cool to be able to take Maja here, especially as it’s one of the first places we got a picture together not long after we first met at Heathrow Airport and when we were walking through here to get to Kentish Town. I made a very minor detour to bring us down Kingly Street so that she could see this iconic venue that I’d written so much about from so many jams, including my own very first jam in London.

Now she’s finally seeing the inside of it for herself and, with the place as crowded as I always remember, we’re delighted to somehow be able to get a seat at a central table right near the front of the stage. And just like last night it’s great to see a few old friends including house drummer Felipe who I played a gig with once upon a time. It is a pretty cool kudos point when Felipe finishes his set and comes straight over to us to say hello. And again, a set of two songs for me tonight, then we sit back and enjoy the rest of a great show. And Barry the bar manager, after saying hi, says it’s fine to put our beer mats about the place. So now The Diaries get an airing in this most central London of venues. Thankyou very much Barry.

Day four

Tuesday September 21

We’re thinking of getting some recording done while we’re here so it’s a chilled rehearsal day at Alex’s before heading off out to meet my old friend Amy for dinner out by Trafalgar Square. 

Rehearsal day today at Alex’s then out tonight for dinner and a London walk with Amy. And, while walking through Trafalgar Square, we bump into Kristoff who we’ll be meeting tomorrow.

Day five

Wednesday September 22

The bar we’re staying above has a full on venue above it, which is below the apartment. This holds about 100 people and has a really cool stage. Alex has told us we could use this to record a video if we want. Brilliant. We make a plan to do this on Sunday.

Back to Traf Square territory tonight for a night out at The Marquis. A whole host of regular faces including Shane who Maja knows from that party a little while ago. It’s just a basic central London hangout as we happily mingle about the place. 

Day six

Thursday September 23

It’s Alex’s birthday tomorrow and we’ve found the perfect present for him. An actual bass. Second hand, a brand we know well and perfectly affordable. It’s in East Dulwich, quite a trek away from here on a couple of buses. We had quite a late night last night, but I’ve made a plan to to and pick that bass up early enough this morning. I’m out and back by about 11:30am and the bass gets stored in a discrete place. 

With us staying at Alex’s, I’ve made it clear that he has me for free if he wants me for any recording on his album material. I’ve already played on I think five songs of this for which he paid a good session rate. He asks now if I wouldn’t mind having a go at a song or two of his. No problem. Let’s have a look. We go into the studio and run through a few songs. I’ve never heard them before but there’s no need to really learn them properly. Instead we go through section by section. I learn that bunch of 16 bars or whatever, get a good feel, red light, record. Next section. This is how we get through it, and two hours later he has two tracks with bright and shiny new basslines. It’s 1:30pm. We’ve arranged to go and meet Fred Pala today. We have some lunch and leave around 2pm, arriving in Ealing around 4. Yes, it really is another trek. Wow. Out to East Dulwich to buy a bass, back to Angel to record a session for two tracks from scratch as I’d never heard them before, and now we’re in Ealing by 4pm. If we’d had this schedule planned and written out, it would have seemed impossible.

It’s wonderful to see Fred, who I shared so many great moments with just hanging out, rehearsing, and then playing all those shows all around London and a touch beyond at times. We hang out now in a hotel bar on the River Thames near his place and all is good. Evening descends and we continue into the night and all is good. We have a guitar and he’d love to hear a song or two from us. Great. We play Our mid tempo song Smile Is Going Round to a luke warm reception. Fair enough. You don’t have to like it. But then we go for breakthrough and Maja is really concentrating and giving a lovely, heartfelt performance when Fred just stands up and walks away and goes chatting to some random people he’s just seen about 20 metres away. We carry on for a little while but then I slowly stop, Maja opens her eyes and suddenly sees we’re alone. Not good. Not cool at all. We look at each other in disbelief, tinged with some level of disgust and disillusionment. I’m frankly embarrassed that a seemingly great friend of mine could do something so ignorant and disrespectful. We barely even have to say anything to each other. We just pack up and walk away without even looking back. Fred, I’d really like to say it was great to see you again, but…

Day seven

Friday September 24

Me and Alex try and get a recording session done but I’m really not as much on the ball as I was yesterday. Sometimes it flows through your fingers and sometimes it’s treacle and just not there. This is the second kind. No worries. We leave it and think maybe we’ll have another go later on. The main issue here is a part of a song, a kind of finale which Alex isn’t too sure what he wants to do with and I’m being absolutely no help. It could be a big bass part to really lift it, but if that is the case, I’m totally unable to deliver right now. It’s not that I couldn’t play something, I just can’t get a vision of what it could be, and anything I play, however decently sounding and technically well executed just doesn’t have any inspiration and neither of us is feeling it. I just can’t get my head around what would work here. To be fair, he’s been a bit stuck with how this part of the song could sound and was hoping I might be able to break the ice with it, but no. It just isn’t happening.

After all of yesterday’s running around and activity, me and Maja take it easy in the apartment until around 5:30 when we go for a wander out and about, including a perfectly leisurely chill in the nearby park with grapes which just seems right.

There’s a vague plan for the birthday tonight, involving starting sometime around 6/7. We get back there around 6:30 and no-has turned up yet, so it’s back to the apartment. When we arrive Alex is having a tinker in his studio and has been looking at what I recorded today. He’s decided a lot of it is really quite good and works well with the track, but he still has nothing for the end, the bit we were struggling with. Now he says he has an idea that it could be a real just let it go lead bass part finale for the last 16 bars or so. He just mentions this casually, but when he does a light goes off in me. I know exactly what to do. I tell him I can do that now. He says we should just relax and do the party, but I really want to have a go and I insist. He finds this amusing and a bit ridiculous because it’s come round to time to leave and we really should be down there in ten minutes or so. I’m all over this and tell him just to let me have a go. Shaking his head in a little incredulity he says, OK, let’s try. I’ve never tried soloing over this section before and I get myself mentally warmed up, thinking of the modes and chords that are required, as well as the feel. I launch myself into two takes. They’re actually OK, but I do kinda trip up over myself a little in the experimenting. We have to go. We really have to go. Come on Alex. Just one more try. I have this. OK, go for it. I do. And damn I nail it so hard. I finish, look up a little breathlessly and Alex is standing there just stunned. Maja’s been allowed to sit on in this session as well and she just looks like, ‘Oh wow, what just happened?’ Alex launches into hugging me and says some sweary words like, you had no right to play like that you… I just smile back and say, ‘Happy birthday.’ With that he declares the track done. What perfect timing and what a great way to see ourselves off. A jubilant threesome, we all go downstairs to join the party.

By 11:30, everything is still going strong. The bar is closed and we all help a little with the clearing up to allow the barstaff to get everything finished just that little bit earlier so they can all join us upstairs in Alex’s apartment. This will ultimately see 15 to 20 people all crammed into the place. Once upstairs, there’s a little present giving session and Alex is suitably bashful about getting so much attention. Then, just when he thinks it’s all over, we announce that we have something. We reach into the pile of clothes and bags, all strategically placed against the wall and pull up a large black case and place it on the table. A reaction of disbelief sweeps the room as we say, ‘Happy birthday Alex. This is for you.’ He’s like, ‘Oh no. You didn’t. It can’t be.’ Well, open it and find out. There’s suddenly a wonderful silent tension as he slowly unlocks the clasps and gently swings the top open. And then, there it is. A beautiful black perfect condition Cort bass. Yes, it really is quite a moment and I don’t think it’s just Alex who gets emotional.

As soon as present giving has somewhat calmed down, attention turns to us. Among a lot of my old friends tonight, such as Kristoff and Jess, we have met a lot of new people and they have been intrigued about our story and marvelled over our beer mats, with one girl saying, ‘You keep putting these around and the right person will see them and will call you. It’s a great, great marketing idea.’ Well, brilliant. But now they want to see if there is anything behind the great marketing idea as everyone now wants to hear what it is we can actually bring to the table. Me and Maja are standing alone in the kitchen, just off the main room and mentally preparing ourselves for this. We’re about to play our music live for the first time and we’re kind of checking each other to see if we’re ready. This is about to happen. This will be the first time anything we’ve done has made contact with reality to see if it can truly stand up like we believe and hope it can. And friendly or not, we’re doing it in front of a central London audience. We say we have one song for them. Everybody sits back. We stand at one end of the room, wait for them to more or less settle, then we hit it and launch into I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) for the first time.

We finish and there’s no applause. No-one saying, ‘Oh yeah, that’s a really nice song.’ No. None of the polite friend stuff people might do when someone they know, however vaguely, plays a new song. There’s none of that at all. Instead the room just explodes in screams and cheers like their soccer team has just scored the most important goal of the season. 

This. Does. Not. Happen.

I’ve been around a lot of songwriting events and someone playing a brand new song to mostly strangers, to get this reaction. Does not happen. Even the politiest, most supportest of friends would not cheer and whoop like this. Does not happen. Or at the very least I’ve never seen anyone play a brand new song in a singer songwriter context and get this type of reaction. But then, if it was possible, things go to even crazier levels. For the next half an hour or so, it seems all anyone can talk about is this song we’ve just played. To me, to Maja. Even to each other. We keep hearing people talking about our song. Right down to thoughts and breakdowns of the lyrics, taking the subject matter to existential areas we’d never even thought of. Way over an hour later, every now and then we hear someone humming it. This is our first contact with a London audience. With any audience. And no matter what we could have imagined, or hoped, even my biggest hopes of how our music could be received, nothing I could have thought or dreamt of could have even come close to this.

Day eight

Saturday September 25

Yes last night was a late big one, but we don’t think it’s just that. The non-stopness really catches up with us today. Hits us like a wall in fact. And we have somewhat ambitious plans for tonight. For a start I’m heading back to the Palmerston. We’re going to meet Chris there for dinner. Then after that we have plans to hang out with some of my old workmates there. Duran, Joe and Eraldo and maybe others if they can make it. This could take us all round Camden and beyond if we really get stuck into it. But halfway through dinner with Chris we realise we’ve just piled on too much. It’s so cool to see him again and we have a good laugh about the disastrous car journey to Ireland which definitely was not funny at the time. Neither for him or us. Iza’s in today and it’s great to see her too but she’s too busy to be too sociable. Moni’s kind of around, but again also busy. Hey, it’s Saturday night. 

By the time we’re heading off to meet our guys after saying goodbye to Chris we’re just about hanging on and I’m starting to feel guilty about this. I know they’ve set themselves up for a big night and I know there’s no way we’re able for it. I was hoping to meet up in Aces And Eights, just by Tufnel Park station, then head into Camden. But by the time Maja and I arrive we barely have it in ourselves to speak. We summon up enough energy to hang out with Duran, Joe, Eraldo and a few other guys, but we don’t even make it to a second hour. I’ve not felt this socially tired for a long long time, Maja’s totally feeling it too, and we have to very regretfully bale before the night is even close to getting going. Back to Alex’s and we join him in watching a movie. Ten minutes in and I’m asleep on the sofa. A big fat miss of a night and not at all what my old work friends were thinking off. Really sorry guys. 

Day nine

Sunday September 26

After last night’s failure we have success today as we head out early and achieve what we came to London to achieve. The car gets sold. The wonderful seven seater Mazda that we bought in London and moved to Ireland with has now returned to London where it will stay. We’re back at Alex’s by 10:30am and have vague plans to rehearse and record, but oh, that just isn’t happening. As we go through today, things get cancelled and chucked off our list. We were hoping to do The Blues Kitchen tonight and have Maja play. But for that she needed to practice a little during the week and maybe get a few pointers from me and that just hasn’t happened. We also are just so tired and way past trying to do anything really. We’ve been meaning to go the comedy club in the bar we’re staying in, but it’s clear we’re not up for that either. Instead, we settle for having a late Sunday roast in the bar here and stay here and hang out with the off duty and coming off duty bar staff instead. 

Day ten

Monday September 27

Last London day today and it’s Monday and we’re still kind of in recovery mode so we really don’t try to do much. A little look and hang out in a bar or two around the wonderful Angel area we’re in the middle of, then back to the bar and a wonderful hang out with Alex and the bar staff. Then up to his apartment for a few more drinks and fun, and where he has one more surprise. He wants us to have one of his really good studio microphones. This will become the microphone we use for our podcasts. The fantastically chilled atmosphere up here with some of the guys we’ve been hanging out with during the week is a great way to end our London trip. 

Day 11

Tuesday September 28

Maja’s off to Sweden today and I head off to the airport with her. It’s a very emotional goodbye as she heads into the terminal. Tonight, and then tomorrow, will be our first time apart since the day we met – February 19, just over seven months ago. Now I’ll be heading back to Ireland to be on my own in our house for the first time.

Day 20

Thursday October 7

This week has been me recovering from London, catching up on Diary writing and getting to know the studio a little bit more and practicing with some guitar tracks to be a bit more ready for recording when Maja’s Sweden visit is over. The main thing here is that we have plans to hopefully get a strong demo recording of I Like You (Better When You’re Naked).

And today Maja says her trip will end on Monday. Her flight will leave at 8:15 Sweden time, so 7:15 Mark time. My train from Clara to Dublin leaves at 7:14am. Which means that her plane will be taking off the same time as my train leaves.

So we plan to meet in Dublin, maybe have a few early pints in Templebar, and then a gentle journey home. It’s fair to say we don’t plan to be very productive that day.

The Second Ireland Diary, days one to 23

The Second Ireland Diary

Day one

Monday, October 11

Maja:

I’m up very early – 4:30am swedish time. Taxi 5am, airport 6am, flight 8:15. Mark meets me at Dublin airport, and I surprise him by appearing behind what appears to be a touring polish football team. We find a hostel near Heuston train station where we’re able to leave my bags, then get a bus back into town.

Once there we settle on a bar called The Norseman where we settle in for a couple of beers and also go for their whiskey taster tray. Then we head off to find another bar, this time for lunch and we end up at Fitzgerald’s. There we’re looked after by Katie, a wonderful waitress on her first day of work. A few more pints here accompanied by a fantastic meal of Steak and Guinness pie with mash. Then we’re on our way. The 5:30pm train gets us back to Clara by 6:30. I’m exhausted by the time we get back. Pretty much straight to bed.

Day two

Tuesday, October 12, 2021

Maja:

I’m excited. It feels wonderful to be back home and I have had a very restful time at my parents house. I just feel so positive, but before me and Mark get real productive there’s a couple of things we need to do. Unpack, take a lovely walk for me to rediscover our little town, then we catch up with the rest of the world by binge watching Squid Game and drinking beer.

Wonderful.

I’m back home!

Ireland, Day three

Wednesday, October 13

Maja:

Yeah, I’m happy to be back here. In Ireland. The country of rain and beer. When I finally wake up, I feel like I want to take on the world. So of course, before doing anything, we need to finish up watching Squid Game. I can’t leave that hanging, so we make a cup of tea and watch the last two episodes. Amazing. And now, I just feel like I’m done with watching things for a while. I want to get started. So in the studio I get going while Mark starts to cook us some pasta bolognese. I get on rearranging the studio, setting up the workstation and so on. Right now my priority is that I want to get a little bit better at producing, so I need to put in some hours at the computer. 

Mark:

Out at The Trap and I head off for a toilet break. On the way I bump into Angela and Jimmy, the managers. They’re doing renovations out back. They take me there to show me what’s going on as they revamp what will be the function room. There, we get speaking about music. This starts to look like it could go on for some time so I excuse myself, go and get Maja, and bring her back and introduce her. Now we’re told that Clara is a very musical town and we’ve really chosen very well in coming here. Crazy. They have the Clara band and Clara musicals, loads of other acts. And we’re told we should come tomorrow and meet Alan who runs their sound and other bits and pieces. 

Maja:

Only Mark could go to the toilet and come back with something like this. Only Mark. 

Day four

Thursday October 14

Mark:

Ross, my London agent calls. He’s wondering if I can start up quizzes like we were talking about pre lockdown. I have to stop him and tell him I don’t actually live in London anymore. I fill him in on a little of our story and he absolutely loves it. And he confirms my theory about lockdown; which was that a lot of musicians would have left London and, had I still been there, I would have been able to clean up. Well, things like that are actually happening for some people all fair play to them. 

Maja:

We go to try to meet Alan at The Trap at 2 pm. We manage to say hello, shake hands and give our card but he’s deep in conversation with the bosses and we soon realise they’re not going to finish talking or checking things anytime soon. If anything we’re a bit in the way. So we back off a little bit and take a little walk to the back of the pub. We start to see it really is an enormous place as we head out beyond the function room and into the back garden. Just huge. Right at the end of it, possibly 60 to 70 metres from where this thing start, is a large raised area. We discover this is the stage area for summertime shows. We’ve seen the whole place now and the serious talk down there is still continuing so we take ourselves off for a walk around the countryside surrounding the town.

Day six

Saturday October 16

Maja:

‘Mark! I’m buying the car now!’ I inform him after I’ve managed to crawl out of bed and come to the computer in the studio downstairs. I’m not especially alert. I’ve been quite tired since yesterday. It’s like everything is just a tad bit too slow today. But we need to buy another car after recently selling the last one in London, and I don’t want to put that off any longer. I’ve been here now for almost a week, and we still haven’t got to it. Living here, we pretty much need a car for any travel and for any kind of decent shopping. Anything, pretty much. The car I want to buy is a Ford Galaxy 2010 model for 2450 euro. It’s in Roscommon. I call up the seller, Tony, and he tells me it’s available and that I can take the train there during the day. I look up train times, and find a train leaving in one and a half hours. Perfect. I can go there, buy the car, and we can drive home. Everything done during the day. I tell Mark who takes a shower and starts getting ready. Then to look up car insurance in Ireland. I start with the first site, and I get a quote. 3700 euro for a year. 3700! And that’s 25% off with an online signup offer. So it’s already reduced by 25 per cent. No way this is true, this is just too much! I pay like 50 euro a month for my Swedish car. This is an infuriatingly high price. How can it be this expensive just because I’m not irish? I’m still a European citizen, and I’ve had my licence for nine years by now. But no. Here, I’m treated like a new driver because I’m new to Ireland. I’ve driven all around the globe. It’s not like I’m a beginner at all, but apparently none of that matters here. I continue searching for other options, but most companies won’t even give me a quote. And I found another one for 4500 euro. That’s even worse than my first option.

This is ridiculous. It now means that this car isn’t happening.

I have to call Tony back. “Hello, how’re you doing?” “Grand, how bout you?” and all of that. “I’m not able to come today. I can’t find any decent car insurance.” That’s that. End of story. We can’t buy an Irish car. It’s just too expensive. Balls.

Well, I’m still going to try to call insurance companies next week to see if I can get something affordable, because this is just over the top. Completely. Surely there has to be some option.

So here we are. Not having a car in the Irish countryside for the foreseeable future. What a fun life. We can’t do anything here, and if we go to any town by train, last trains back to Clara from anywhere tend to leave sometime early evening with only occasional later ones. This is really not an optimal situation. We can’t really live here without a car. 

How are we going to manage now?

Both me and Mark are frustrated beyond. This was not the turn we expected. What are we going to do now? Our little town is nice and so, but we can barely buy decent food here, not at a good price at least. Doing most of your shopping from the local shops is not a sustainable way of being for two musicians looking to play music live for a living. It’s not fitting. We need something else. But what?

Day seven

Sunday October 17 

I wake with what sounds like a crazy idea and I tell Mark so. ‘You know, I still haven’t sold my Swedish car,’ I tell him with a sly look on my face. ‘Which means we do actually have a car,’ ‘OK,’ he says cautiously. I’m thinking like this. First off we can use my Swedish car in Europe for six months. That will put off the problem for quite a while. We have a car that we can use for six months. It’s just that it is currently at my parents place in Sweden. But I have to go there soon anyway for hand surgery. So I can go there, have the surgery, heal, and drive the car to somewhere in Europe where Mark can meet me. We could meet in Copenhagen, or Gdansk, which is a place I can get a ferry to from Sweden. Or we could even meet in Stockholm. Or consider a few places even further south. Like Hamburg, Berlin, Amsterdam or even Prague. Then we could just go and find places to play. We’ll find our hunting grounds somewhere. It’s going to be an adventure.

I can’t believe it where it looks like these thoughts are taking us. To our first European tour. Yes. Not buying a car would well be the beginning of our first European tour.

Mark is getting all excited about this. He is great at talking to people, and I’m sure that if we’re prepared and just there, we’ll find some opportunities. We’ll just turn up, check in at the cheapest hostel or at a friend’s house if we have any friends around where we end up, and look around for places to play. That’s our game plan right now.

Mark:

Yep. That’s does indeed appear to be our game plan right now. We’ve literally, right here, as we’ve just woken up, begun preparing for our first European tour. Just so that you’re fully up to speed, we’re not yet even ready to play live. Considering what we’re considering, we should probably get on it.

We do this with a two hour rehearsal in which Maja really finds her power voice. We get through four songs and make real significant progress. 

Into the evening and we go out and discover Nigel’s Bar – this place is only open at the weekends so tonight is the first time we make it in there. We’re warmly welcomed to Clara by Michael, the bar manager, then we have a look around and the sheer size of the place takes us totally by surprise. It’s one of those places that just goes on and on. Out back is a nightclub and games area, with another bar upstairs overlooking the whole thing. This could be a cool place in any full size city. It’s not something I expected to find in our new five pub town. Now we’ve discovered the games room, Maja challenges me to darts. Bad idea. For me that is. Because it’s now that she finds out just how pathetic I am at this game. She’s hardly smashing in the 180s either, but what follows is quite possibly a level of humiliation the Romans would have used for public punishment.

What happens next is just out there, unbelievable ridiculous. I’ve been writing quite a lot of Diary catchup today, and tomorrow I’m going to reach the day of Maja’s ankle break when she stepped off a kerb on the way home from the Palmerston and it just went. Well, we get home from Nigel’s  Bar and Maja decides she wants fish and chips from town. So we head back out to the actual fish and chip place, which we’ve never been to before. When we enter, we’re surprised to discover it’s a cash only business. They might just have to rethink that with the only cash point in town having closed just last week. We have no cash, and can’t get any so we leave empty handed to head over to the only similar take out place in town. As we leave the door, there’s a step of around six to seven inches. Kind of like a big kerb. Yep. Something in me miscalculates the distance to the ground and I go down hard, feeling pain in my ankle, in exactly the same place where Maja broke hers – although she did it on both sides of the ankle whereas I have it on just the one, but even so. Come on people. Hours before I’m due to write about Maja’s drama, which meant we had to postpone the whole Irish adventure, I go and do exactly the same thing. But again, not quite the same thing. It’s OK, really. No breaks in sight, just a bit of a sprain. But it was a bit of a worry for more than a second or two there when it happened, and the horrified sound Maja made as she saw me go down just like she had. Oh it must have been scary. I was well aware of that because I immediately called out from the ground, ‘It’s OK. Nothing’s broken. Just hurts. Give me a minute.’ 

Day eight

Monday October 18

The day I write about Maja’s ankle break, I’m wearing the exact same moonboot she got from the hospital and which we brought with us to Ireland. Just in case. Well, here we are at that just in case. Talk about symmetry. Damn.

Now onto the next ridiculousness, as The Diaries, an act yet to even play a half hour gig, an act not yet even ready to play a gig, discusses – in full earnest I may add – their first European tour. We’re alternating between the idea of starting in Hamburg or Poland, but the more we think about it, the more Hamburg comes into focus. Northern Germany, working our way down through western Europe. 

But we can’t start until Maja gets back from Sweden which will be possibly be December 1. But the other thing is that she’s leaving for that Sweden visit on November 6 so we also don’t have much time to get ourselves sorted and ready to play a decent length of set of seven or eight songs. Then, with Maja gone for the whole rest of the month, we’ll somehow have to keep in touch with what we hope to have achieved by then so that we can hit the ground, if not running, at least not falling over, when we arrive for our first European shows, wherever they might happen to be.

Day ten

Wednesday October 20

Mark:

We’ve tried comping vocals for I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), which means recording multiple takes and then putting the best bits together to make one coherent vocal. For one reason or another it just didn’t work. Not helped by me making a silly mistake after an hour or so of comping and managing to essentially delete all the work I’d done and then having no idea where I was with the thing. 

So today we decide to try another way, which is to do the song section by section, singing each line until it’s right, saying yes, we have it, and then moving onto the next part. This means we won’t have to return to compare and edit. When we have a section, we have it and that’s that. This is the theory at least. This doesn’t work too well either. We eventually get through it all, but again are not satisfied with the results. What we’ve ended up with is a track with a total lack of spontaneity. It just isn’t a performance. After yesterday, I just can’t take any more of staring at the screen. My eyes have just gone. I take a complete break while Maja works alone, trying different takes and ways of singing it.

After a while she declares that she has something we can work with that just needs a few edits.

Day 11

Thursday October 21

After really thinking we’d made a breakthrough yesterday, and after all the efforts of the past few days, we delete everything and start again. But so much has gone into this that we feel really confident with it now. I guess we thought we were recording when what we were really doing was practicing recording. This is borne out when we get back to it today; within three hours of starting, we have a full track ready to go. This really is a breakthrough, both in terms of learning to work together in the studio, and in Maja’s vocals. I think this week has been her biggest leap forward in improvement since this whole thing began.

Day 12

Friday October 22

Maja:

With something real finally in the bag, there’s a new calmness about things now. Mark has another session of double tracking guitar, playing against my new vocals, and then has a go at some backing vocals. All that’s left are a few minor touch ups and then I go in for mixing. With this I work with Alex who’s been super kind enough to offer his help on all things technical. I send him what I have and he replies with thoughts on how things could be improved and I incorporate those thoughts and so on.

Mark:

With all of this, I think Maja is really going to get into this production thing. Our pool of skills is definitely building.

Day 13

Saturday October 23

Maybe for today, Sunday and Monday, look through the Alex Whatsapp thread and get into studio bits a little

Maja’s first live band experience at The Trap.

Day 14

Sunday October 24

Day 15

Monday October 25

Maja has the idea of renting an apartment in Hamburg or Berlin and going there for December to play around those areas. Then we’ll take a break for Christmas which might just see us go and visit my family in Devon. During that time we’ll leave the car in Germany. In this plan, New Year will be spent back in Berlin while we decide where to go next. Maybe something like Holland, Belgium, northern France, and then western Germany from there. It’s a plan. 

Once we’ve discussed all this we get stuck into a rehearsal which ends up going on for three hours. We start in the kitchen reworking an old song of mine called Can You Be. After hitting that for a while we head into the studio to have a really solid go at everything we have as we aim to get the set nailed. Tomorrow sees us continuing to just go through the set as we work on more and more details and transitions within songs. Not to mention just trying to make ourselves sound like a single unit that can play together.

Day 17

Wednesday October 27

Ditto.

Day 18

Thursday October 28

Today it just isn’t happening. We try to rehearse. We really do. But it just sounds flat, uninspired, and it’s full of all kinds of mistakes that we just shouldn’t be making. It would be a waste of time to try to iron all this out. Most of it we already do have ironed out, we just aren’t proving it today. No. This is all coming from tiredness. We really have been hitting it hard lately, and rather than that manifesting itself in good, solid playing, exactly the opposite is happening. Frustrated and tired, we decide to start the weekend early and recharge.

Day 20

Saturday October 30

We’ve had a thought about maybe doing a gig before we set up so we can have at least on show under our belts before tackling Europe. If nothing else it would get that first one out of the way as we see just how much of our image of ourselves and our songs can survive contact with reality. And if things do go well, we could maybe justifiably go into Europe with something resembling confidence in what we have, beyond our own stubborn belief.

So we go into The Trap in the afternoon and see Angela. She’s happy to give us a gig this Friday, November 5, the day before Maja sets off. By definition, the very last day we have available before Europe. Brilliant. Job done.

Day 21

Sunday October 31

We really have no desire to see what happens on Hallowe’en here, especially as we live in a very conspicuous house right on a crossroads. With that, Maja’s had the idea of us going off on a day trip to Tullamore, probably taking in the night as well. Actually, that would kind of be the point. Before heading off, we have a run through of the set. For the first time we get through the whole thing in one go, complete with backing vocals. It all sounds very lively, and it’s encouraging that we’ve now got through the whole thing, which means the week ahead of us can be spent on consolidation. It’s also perfect that we hit this milestone before our first real day trip out to our nearby larger town of Tullamore. As a comparison, Clara has a population of around 3,500 while Tullamore is around 14,500.

We make the 2:30pm train.

Once in Tullamore we start to get a very different feel to the place than we ever have before. Up to now it’s been a functional town for us. Come and do the shopping, which mostly happens in the bigger stores slightly out of town anyway. But we have been to the shopping centre here, which hosts a Dunnes supermarket. And with that there’s been the occasional walk around the place, maybe popping into a cafe or two at times. But now we’re checking out bars and restaurants. We wander around and get our bearings for a while, also seeing if we can discover any live music. The most obvious place we see is a huge bar called Fergies, but they tell us their music starts at 10pm. Our last train out of here is 9:30, so no good.

Before hitting our first bar for a drink we need lunch, which is really breakfast. A little more of a walk and we find a wonderful Indian restaurant, just a tiny bit off the beaten track. We’ll be back here again, we decide. Now it’s time for the wonderfully guilty pleasure of daytime beers.

Our first bar is The Brewery Tap where we watch documentaries of old Offaly hurling glories. We get talking to John, the landlord and he knows Clara very well. He tells us there’ll be a party in The Mill later on, the bar behind our house. This will be a celebration for yet another victorious Clara sporting team. We’re really getting  a sense that this town is full of talented musicians and sports stars. I think this is the fourth victory we’ve heard of in the past month or so. 

Out of here and we head to the top of the town where we find Eugene Kellys, a wonderfully large bar where we have one drink in the main bar, then discover their spectacular lounge bar out back. What a contrast of atmospheres. The front bar is all bright and full of local joviality. The back bar is intriguingly dark and the cool music vibe is much more upfront, slightly louder than the other bar. It really has the feel of the cool chill place in town. We have to stay here for another. Afterall, this is like finding a whole new bar anyway.

Out of here and it’s approaching 7. We can maybe take in one more place before last train time. People have been telling us about Digans. That’s straight down the hill from here. On the way we walk past a musician unloading his car and call out good luck to him. He thanks us and we carry on our way to Digans. Oh dear. We don’t get this vibe at all. Very nightclubby and already a bit uncomfortably full and rowdy. No thanks. But we just saw that musician down the road a little way back there. Let’s check him out.

The bar is The Goalpost and we walk in and see our man setting up in front of a speaker someway down the middle of the place. Kind of at the back of the front part of the bar and just in front of a few steps leading down to the back area. We go and say hello and he introduces himself as Pat and invites us to sit down with him while he sets up. We chat a little and we give him our card. ‘Oh, fellow musicians. Very good,’ he says. He then introduces us to his friend, Colm. Cool. We’re suddenly a little crowd.

After about 20 minutes, Pat says he’s about to start, so we settle down at a table nearby and are soon bouncing along to his up tempo pop and rock cover set with a good amount of traditional Irish thrown in. A half hour or so of this and we wait for Pat to finish a song before standing, thanking him for the show and saying our goodbyes to him and Colm. ‘Where are you off to?’ he asks? Last train. It’s half past nine and it’s a 20-30 minute walk from here to the station. ‘Where are you heading?’ Clara. ‘We’ll have none of that,’ he declares. ‘I’m driving that way after. I’ll give you a lift. Stay and have a proper drink.’ Well, who can refuse? So we do, and get totally into the growing raucous atmosphere of the place, all the while hanging out with Colm a little more. And singing along when we know the songs. This day really has warmed up. Now we’re going deep into the evening as well. 

When his set finishes, all four of us pile into his car, me and Maja in the back and Colm up front. They ask what kind of stuff we plan to play if and when we’re out and about and we tell them we’re songwriters so will be planning on that, although we tell them now that we’ll be heading to Berlin and then wider Europe soon to see how we can get on. ‘You’ll be having to play a few covers if you want to play around here,’ Pat says, totally matter of factly, totally as a statement of obvious fact. No no, we say. We’re going to play all our own songs. ‘Oh, you can’t be doing that now,’ says Pat. No-one will be interested, If it’s not Wagon Wheel or something similar, they don’t want to know. Colm chimes in now. Originals, forget it he says. The general thought coming off both of them now is that it simply can’t be done. Colm turns round now to face us. All serious, he says, ‘You have to throw a few covers into your set. You just have to. I’m telling you now.’ If you didn’t know he was in fact offering friendly advice and from a totally well meaning place, you would think he was giving a warning. ‘What you guys are planning, you can’t do it,’ he continues. ‘You have to play covers.’ We hold our ground. No. We’re doing this. The atmosphere is in danger of descending a little in here.

‘It’s nursery rhymes for adults,’ Pat calls out. ‘That’s all they want. Songs they know and that’s the end of it. I’ve got my own stuff too as it happens, but it just doesn’t work with the kind of audiences you’re talking about.’ We really are being told here. Pleaded at almost. Like, ‘Guys, please don’t do this to yourselves.’ They are totally telling us for our own sakes. As I said, their thoughts are totally coming from a good, well meaning place and, for all the hard sounding words, no-one’s falling out here.

We decide to give Pat the last word on this subject. He then says that he and Colm are playing in The Trap on Wednesday with another friend or two of theirs. Oh wow. Our own local and we tell them we’re playing there on Friday. ‘Why don’t you guys come along on Wednesday,’ Colm suggests now, again nudging the atmosphere to more friendly territory. Maybe you could get up and do a song or two with us. Yep absolutely. Sounds absolutely brilliant and another continuation of our fantastic little daytrip to Tullamore.

Day 22

Monday November 1

We’re up relatively early and surprisingly very fresh. The main priority now, apart from rehearsal, is to think about what we want to do between now and arriving in Berlin.

I need to have a working studio set up here so that me and Maja can maybe send tracks to each other. One of those projects will be me recording backing guitar tracks for the songs so that she can have something rehearse with on her own.

And we have to decide what to take and maybe see what we might have to buy when we get there. This includes thinking about what Maja has in Sweden which she can bring in the car. But really, it looks like we’ll have to buy quite a few things when we get there, including a new guitar, at least one speaker, and a mixing desk. Of course we have a guitar here but it’s only acoustic meaning it has to be mic’d up. Not ideal, even for now, but there’s no point buying a guitar here just for one gig. For The trap on Friday we’ll mic up the guitar, then have a whole new semi acoustic one by the time we start in Berlin.

And of course, up front and personal on that to-do list is me researching venues and promoters and emailing and calling them. Generally trying to get us gigs to actually play when we get there.

Day 23

Tuesday November 2

After rehearsal we really get down to trying to settle touring plans. We decide to take in five or six cities. The plan will be to arrive in one, play in and around the place and get known around there as much as we can, then move onto the next one. That three to four week thing is also fluid and could shorten or lengthen depending on what was happening in any given place. For the first destination, we settle on Berlin. I’ll fly there at the beginning of December, and Maja will drive down from Stockholm, probably getting a ferry on the way, maybe to Poland. 

It’s looking something like this:

Berlin – with a Devon excursion

Amsterdam

Zurich

Paris

Madrid

Then possibly, possibly London. We’re not totally convinced about Madrid – too far out of the way for a start – and Hamburg could yet make it into the mix. 

But of course, who really knows? We’re open to anything else happening in between that could take us anywhere else. But with this, we now have a solid plan to talk about and aim at.

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.

The Third Ireland Diary, days 19 to 161

Day 19
Thursday March 17

Mark:

Oh I am not having fun this morning. The sea is really swelling and picking the ship up and down and I am really feeling it. All I can do is lie down on the kind of sofa bench we manage to make our own once we’re up and the actual bed is all packed away. Maja is up and about being social and attempting to introduce me to people but I’m sorry. I just can’t. If I lie down it’s kinda OK. But if I stand up, everything just seems to fall away beneath me. I don’t even feel like talking to the new friends I made yesterday. A passing nod if I see one of them when I go off on nature calls but that’s about it. Although there is quite a fun moment when one of them sings I Like You Better When You’re Naked at me as I pass him in the breakfast queue. Oh, did I just say breakfast? Sorry. No. Can’t. Oh, and now this. I really can’t believe this. Bizarrely, even just starting to write about the whole thing has caused something to psychosomatically happen and the world has ever so slightly started swimming and swaying again. I have to stop. Nope. Can’t even write about it.

On dry land and back in the car for the final leg of this epic journey, we start talking about what to do next. As we reflect, we start to conclude that the tour has really been a very elaborate dry run and the opportunity to develop ourselves as a live act. A great experience, but we don’t think wider Europe offers much for emerging bands. Where can you go? Scandinavia? No. Eastern Europe? Not really. France, Spain? No – and in particular here, I have intimate personal knowledge of Spain’s grass roots music scene. It does have one and it can be very good. The problem is, it doesn’t have an audience. Maybe Germany. Which really means Berlin, and we do feel we’ve created a toe hold there. After that, possibly Amsterdam, and maybe Prague.

Having done what we’ve done in the past few months, we now feel ready to begin to announce ourselves on the real marketplaces of emerging original music – Ireland and America. But really, more prominently for us, Ireland. Especially as it’s where we have our base so that automatically makes more sense. Of course, we do have America in the diary for late summer so that will take care of itself at the time. Until then, we decide we’re going to play as much as we can in Ireland and really try to get ourselves established there.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but today is March 17, which means we’re arriving back home in Ireland on St Patrick’s Day, and at a perfect time too. And it’s perfect for another quite bizarre and coincidental reason. It was a year ago today that we had the idea to write songs and tour the world and agreed that we would do just that. And here we are, exactly one year later, returning from our first international trip playing songs that have all been written by us since that day.

Maja:

It feels absolutely epic to return to Ireland today. Today is St. Patricks Day, which is well celebrated in Ireland. I’ve never been in Ireland during St. Patricks Day before, so I don’t really know what to expect. As we’re driving through the small villages we manage to catch the St. Particks Day Parade, which apperantly is a thing I am about to discover. The traffic slows down and we observe what looks like an whole village walking on the street, in funny vechicles, in trucks, drinking, being dressed amusingly in green. It’s marvelous. As a little truck drives by with a couple of lads dancing around on the back, I open the window to wave at them. And get squrited with a water gun. Thanks a lot.

I am over the moon that we got to catch the parade somewhere. A couple of hours later we reach home, and oh my gosh. I haven’t been home in too long. The unload the car and put the house in some order before we’re ready. We’re going to the Trap. To tell everyone we’re home!

As we reach the Trap, everyone is already drunk and most are home already. It seems like most drink at their non regular bar at this particular date so we don’t find a lot of people we know. But Angela who runs the bar gives us a big welcome home, and with that, we’ve landed in Ireland.

We’re back!

Friday March 18 to Monday Monday April 4

Let’s just cover this section of the return in one go. Over the week of arriving, a lot of rest happens, and then we slowly start to get the studio back together while also gently putting the house back in order as our mass of road equipment starts to get reassimilated. We’ve already decided that when we hit the road again, we’ll have less stuff than we’ve taken this time. A little more streamlined if you like. But for our first tour we did OK with what we took and not once did we find ourselves wishing we’d brought this or that. And we’ve learned a hell of a lot, not least that we can actually do this. That we can go into bars cold, get gigs, entertain and generate income. We also discovered that our level needed to come up a little more in terms of stage equipment, sound knowledge and in a few areas of actual performance. We bought and used the equipment, in the process gaining more experience of setting sound. And then during the enforced break in Sweden we really worked to up our performance game. Now we’re going to take a little time at home to rehearse in our Irish studio and pull up those few more performance levels we think we need. This will mean going deep and working on tiny percentages such as backing vocal placement. And with some of our increased vocal performance levels, quite a few of the songs now need to have a key change and these keys need to be discovered and practised.

During this practice, a new setlist starts to take shape as we start putting together what will become known as our smash set. This is to be a short 25 to 30 minute set of eight to ten songs, every one of which are just big. Which means no Insanity, Breakthrough, Wide Blue Yonder or even Smile Is Going Round, which has gone from a slightly up tempo pop tune to a gentle, insistent slow burn. With that change it regained its place in our affections and in the set as it was in danger of dropping out altogether. But it also means there’s no place for it right now. This short, intense set is designed to hold us up in the demanding, and frankly slightly hostile atmosphere of coverbar world where we intend to place ourselves. I’ve never seen anyone attempt this. Not on the scale we’re about to, going out there time and time again into such environments. But really, the theory here is that this is about taking ourselves directly to the end audience. To explain that, let’s take a look at this. First of all, and most simply, we think it will give us more gigs, or at least it will give us more venues to be able to take a run at. There aren’t a huge amount of venues for original acts, and even fewer for those making their first steps. Those bands tend to play quite sparsely, placing shows quite far apart to maximise audiences basically because there are only so many times in a given period even their more committed friends and family members will come out to see them. It can also be quite hard to get shows in the early days. You have to persuade a promoter to fit you somewhere on a bill, normally at the bottom of a three or four band evening. Then, if you do well, you can start to climb further up until you’re doing your own headline shows and then progressing with this to play bigger and bigger venues. That’s the hope anyway. I think you can already see that this is quite a time consuming process. The plus side is that on the way you’re playing to open minded audiences that want to get out and see new, emerging acts so they’re generally more eager and forgiving than your average bar crowd. But this audience is not huge. It also means that you’re not coming to the attention of the wider public at all. That doesn’t happen until you really get up in the atmosphere as a headline act playing pretty decent sized venues, hopefully with attendant press coverage, massively hopefully including some kind of TV or radio play. And believe me, looking at it from grassroots, this is a high bar to be aiming at with very few even attaining that level of success. But even then, for a band starting to show signs of breaking through, those early TV and radio slots will tend to be of the niche programming variety. So no. The general population won’t even be vaguely aware of you until you’re at least nibbling at the bottom rung of the fame game. What we’re doing is going straight to that end audience now. That means we have to able to grab them instantly and keep them grabbed.

Maja:

Right from the beginning we engineered the songs to captivate the toughest of audiences that wouldn’t always be open to listening to original music. So no singer songwriter vibe, no calm songs about heartbreak. Only short intense songs without too many instrumental breaks, with a lot of dynamics to keep people’s attention glued to us. And that’s also why we only play for 30 minutes in the kind of bars we’re playing now. People can’t keep their focus for much longer. They start to want to get back to talking to their friends, order a new pint and the music, however captivating, starts to overstay its welcome. That meant we needed to write about ten short intense, catchy songs of around three minutes each, and we needed to build an intensity of performance to keep the audience’s focus. There’s also no time for talk, because the audience doesn’t really want to listen to what you have to say. Get on with the music please. That is, if we even want you to get on with that.

So where we are now is that we need to get in there, present ourselves during setup, do our show swiftly and do the talking after the show, when people know what we’re about. The idea is that the people get to speak to us afterwards, when they are still in shock over how amazing our show just was. That way we don’t need to explain as much and it’s easier just to let them talk. We’ve already shown them that we’re rockstars, and they get the chance to take that in.

Mark:

This period now is about really consolidating ourselves and being able to put all the above into action, mixing in all the experience we gained from Germany. We settle on a set, selecting what we believe are our biggest songs. And as we do, we realise we’ve inadvertently written out the track listing for our first album. Oh. We have our first album. Which will be this set and some of our slower songs such as Insanity,

With that we’re ready to get to work. We put no pressure on ourselves. We’re going to be ready when we’re ready. We’re thinking two to three weeks to focus on rehearsal and then we’ll get back on the hustle trail as we start to take on Ireland. The idea now is to get all these up to standard, and then make one take, one track recordings of each one, to make what we call representation recordings. These will essentially be to show to prospective album producers so that they can get an idea of where we’re coming from, and they will also give us something to show to bars when looking for bookings.

And while we’re settling back into our small country town Irish life, people around here are starting to ask us when we’ll be playing in the local bar again. Almost every other time we’re out someone will ask. Even in the shops. And so many of these people we don’t even know. Yes, it does feel pretty good.

Day 38
Tuesday April 5

Mark:

Warm pitch to start today. From when we played on the ferry to Ireland from France we have a recommendation from a guy called Cockney. This is to a bar called Joseph McHughes in Liscannor, Co. Clare, about two hours drive away. Our plan from there is to drive to the nearby town of Lahinch and see if we can pick up a gig there, then we’re going to go have a look at Galway which I’ve always heard so much about as a live music centre and which everyone has been telling us we simply have to go to.

We find Joseph McHughes, a pub in a tiny area. Practically two pubs in a car park and that’s it for round here. In we go and we find the manager. We introduce ourselves and drop the name we have. ‘Oh yes, Cockney,’ she says. ‘He sent you here did he?’ Indeed he did. Saw us play on the ferry over. ‘Well, if you want to see how you go we could fit you in this Saturday.’ Oh wow. Straight in. Yeah we could do that. We chat times and come up with 9pm. Brilliant. That works.

Now we drive to Lahinch and have a look around for a bar that looks like it could work. We settle on a place called The Corner Post. Again, it’s a pretty quick pitch and the guy says we could do 10:30pm this Saturday which would work perfectly as he has a large party in that night. Fantastic. And just like that we have two gigs booked for Saturday. Now let’s try our luck in Galway.

No. Galway does not happen. It looks fantastic. Colourful and lively looking, so full of promise with, just like we’d been told so often. Bars offering live music on almost every corner, and on all the streets in between. And the lovely Eyre Squre in the centre surrounded by bars. Yes, there’s a lot of hustling to be done here. But we’re not far into it before we realise there could well be two problems with Galway. And the more we try our luck, the more our initial thoughts are confirmed. First, with it being such a tourist hub, and with music being one of its principle attractions, of course everywhere is booked. All. The Time. And with mostly the same people holding residencies in a given bar. Yeah. It soon becomes apparent the whole place is tied up by booking agents, who we’re encouraged to get in touch with. But for what? A two hour show? Chucking in covers and trad songs? That’s not our thing. There’s a strict model here and we just don’t fit into it. Second, we don’t get to speak to a single manager, so no decision makers. And even if there were, we very much get the impression they still would have referred us to their agent. We had such high hopes of Galway and we’ve turned up absolutely nothing. And after picking up two gigs so easily in tiny seaside towns.

On the way home, we conclude that has to be the way to go. Forget the so called famous music epicentres. We should be focusing on the midlands – the area of Ireland we live in – and the outer areas of the cities. As for the villages, hit them all. Even, or especially, the tiny ones. Maybe the managers there want music but don’t get pitched so much. We really think that’s a good idea for what we have, but oh, what a disappointment Galway has been.

Day 39
Wednesday April 6

Huge relief today as a result comes in we’ve been eagerly awaiting and dreading at the same time. Ed Sheeran wins his courtcase which he’s been fighting alongside his songwriting partners Steve Mac and Johnny McDaid.

If this means nothing to you, just let me say first, that this is huge, just huge for us. There have been a lot of concerning plagiarism cases recently, or at least it’s felt as though it’s proliferated recently and in a way, I actually kind of get it. Bear with me. I’ll come to that. But while there may be some genuine grievances in plagiarism cases, so many of the ones flying about around the current time are purely spurious and nothing more than shakedowns. People with no chance of doing anything for themselves trying to legally steal from those who’ve actually gone out and made it. It basically boils down to, I once used words, that songwriter is using words and made them into a big money making hit. Therefore he or she owes me money. I’m not even exaggerating that much. The Ed Sheeran case felt like a bit of a landmark moment. If he won, maybe this could set something of a precedent and signal the end of these kinds of pathetic, money grabbing, empty spurious claims. But if he lost. Oh man. If he lost. We really don’t want to think about it. It could have been the end of songwriting as we know it. As Ed said himself summing up the experience afterwards, 60’000 songs go up on one particular streaming service every day. I had to go back and check that. Yes. Every day. Which makes 22 million a year. And that’s just on one service. And all of these songs use the same 12 notes. If you’re reading all this Diary because you love your music but have no idea about how to go about making it or how it’s made, yes, there are just 12 notes available to us. That’s if you don’t count the notes in between that we generally don’t have but which are used in some eastern forms of music and I’m not counting them. Those 12 notes. A, Bb, B, C, C#, D, Eb, E, F, F#, G and G#. Yep. Taking away the eastern stuff which can sound a bit strange to us, going back centuries, or even millenia, every song, music score, piece of classical music and every single song on every single Beatles album, uses just these 12 notes and nothing more. Because there is nothing more. Again, as Ed said, coincidences are bound to happen. And yes, there is some imitation, homage and reference. But downright copying? Not as often as you might think. I mean, consider it. Really consider it. I write a song about my wonderful, magic football which I love very much. Try, if you can, to imagine the wonderfully unique melody that only I could possibly have come up with. ‘Maybe you’re gonna be the one that plays me/ Don’t call Saul/ You’re my wonderball.’ Now seriously, do you really think I’d be calling my friends to come round and hear my amazing new song and think they wouldn’t pick up on it? No. Outright copying, for the very most part, just does not happen. Songwriters are creators who want to create. Not copy something else and pretend it’s theirs. Alright, there are some bad actors out there, but for the most part, the people doing the bad acting are the ones accusing others of doing it and then trying to nick all their money.

Now we come to this. If Ed had lost, there’s no two ways about it. It would have been open season on songwriters and as close as dammit to finishing up our chances before we even got out of the gatefold. Anyone who ever had a hit ever, from this day on, would have had it stolen from them the second it got the tills ringing. Basically, the industry into which myself and Maja have set sail and are attempting to steam dead ahead into would have been all but destroyed. I don’t think it would have stopped us doing what we’re doing but I think we would have been living in state of denial that it was even a thing anymore to actually have a go at making something in there without having it stolen from you the second it actually became something. Believe me. The long long wait of a week or so from the conclusion of ‘evidence’ in this case to the actual judgement coming down was agonising.

I did say that I did get it didn’t I? Well this is that bit. We’ve said before that it’s never been easy to make it in music at any level and in any discipline. But to try to get anywhere now as an original act, I don’t think it’s ever been harder. So for those trying but never getting anywhere and not seeing how they can get anywhere. What can they do to shorten their odds of at least getting something out of this game? Try to take it from those who have it. Yeah, record companies have been doing that to artists forever, but now artists are doing it to each other. And so often, it’s done in the hope that the person being pursued just decides it’s not worth the hassle of defending and just settles out of court so that they can get on with their current album writing/recording, touring, or whatever else it is they’d rather be doing. In a lot of these cases it’s really nothing less than a good old fashioned shakedown, and I can’t help but think a lot of the ‘artists’ are put up to it by the music industry’s own take on ambulance chasing lawyers. No win, no fee. Hello. I’m calling about some chords you recently used. Is that right. Did you recently use chords? Er, yes. Great. I’ve just heard that someone else did. For no money up front, and just a split of the robbery, er, rights, I’ll get them to admit they used the same chords as you and give us the royalties. Great. Thanks. One further question. When you did these chords, did you also use words? Er, yeah. Wonderful. Open and shut case. We file tomorrow, and by the day after that, every songwriter in the world will wish they never bothered writing any songs in the first place. Because, well, if anyone with a pen and a musical instrument can ‘prove’ they didn’t actually write them without copying and can now take all their money, what’s the point anymore?

And that, my friends, is what Ed Sheeran, Steve Mac and Johnny McDaid have just saved us all from.

Day 40
Thursday April 7

We have so much in place. All we spoke about, all we had to do. We’ve moved countries – from England to Ireland. We’ve set up our house, with the studio. We’ve toured and learned what equipment was needed and bought it and learned how to use it. We’ve written our songs and got our performances in shape. So our rehearsal is essentially done. And that in itself has been a huge process. We’ve built the website with all the content. We have a brand. Attached to that we have new cards, beermats and posters on the way. We have The Diaries themselves, which I’m writing in as I write. So much of getting all this done has included tons of admin, and so much of the other extraneous activities involved in building a new life, while working on extrications from the previous one, and getting the house and travelling bits all in order. We’ve done all that too. The album is on the way now and we’re on that in the studio. The Diaries are taking care of themselves right now although yes, publication of them at some point is on the cards and that will add another layer to the to do list what that comes about. But right now, our activity has boiled down to a very simple equation as we seek to start to build our presence in Ireland – our local(ish) area then beyond. Book a gig, play the gig, talk to the people before and after.

And we’ve concluded, after what we’ve discovered on the ground, that we should concentrate on our own midlands area and the surrounding areas of Dublin, especially the towns just outside it. Afterall, half an hours drive from Clara and you’re practically in Dublin.

Mark:

Now we feel ready to begin recording our debut album, it’s time to make a phone call we’ve been wanting to make for some time. It’s time to call a producer. I’ve had a guy in mind and we pretty much know what we want from him. His name is Steve, he lives in Madrid, and he was one of a two man production team who I worked with when putting together the Drunken Monkees album. Following that I was in a blues band with him for the better part of two years – the two years preceding The Costa Blanca Diaries which kicked off Mark’s Diaries and the whole Diary thing. It was while working with him that I began the total reinvention of myself as a bass player and, I suppose as a musician.

Maja is really getting hold of the production side of things and I have a fair idea of the process too, so we’re not looking so much for a hands on producer. We can do the heavy lifting and big brush strokes ourselves in terms of getting raw tracks down and getting them to sound somewhat serviceable. Really what we need is someone who can advise us about being more effective as we put this thing together, and then put the finishing touches to it all when everything is done. We put the call in and have a great chat as we talk for the first time in years and he and Maja meet – on the phone – for the first time. During this call we get it all sorted out. We will record two or three tracks as well as we can – probably two – send them to him and he will tell us what we could look at to get them to another level. We’ll then make any improvements needed before taking that knowledge and applying it to the rest of the recording process, getting his views, opinions and guidance along the way. Then, when the whole thing is done, he’ll cast his eye over the full job and polish it all off until we have the finished product. That’s the working theory, he’s well on board and we’re all totally clear with what we have to do.

Now, before we begin the actual recording proper, we’re taking a trick from the Metallica playbook. What they’ve often done before the actual sessions is to record covers to test and get used to any new equipment and maybe personnel. That way they don’t waste time or creative energy going through this with material they plan to actually use. For our version, we’ve decided to record Oasis’ Supersonic. Not for any kind of release, but just to get used to all the toys and tools so that we can hit the ground running when the real production begins. Tomorrow we have our first gigs since returning to Ireland, so the first gigs of what is essentially our Ireland tour, then the next day we’ll begin work on recording our album, starting with pre production.

Day 42
Saturday April 9

Two gigs today. Two. About ten minutes drive apart on the western coast at the top of country Clare. It’s a drive of two and a half to three hours and in the vicinity, we have the famed cliffs of Moher – Liscannor, where we’re playing our first show at Joseph McHugh’s, is the closest village to the cliffs, just four kilometres away. One of the joys of touring and wide range gigging is the opportunity if offers for sightseeing and this area is apparently one of the most spectacular in Ireland, which is of itself renowned for its overall spectacular landscapes, most of all the coast regions of enormous number. So yeah. I’m quite excited about the prospect of finally getting to the cliffs of Moher. I never made it there when I lived here before.

The cliff chain runs for about 14 kilometres and raise to a maximum height of 700 feet – a little over 200 metres, with even the lower regions coming in at well over 100 metres. From these vantage points you can see the Aran Islands and a whole bunch of mountains over in Galway. As such, you might not be surprised to learn that they’re Ireland’s top attraction, pulling in around one and a half million visits per year.

We have this wonderful romantic vision of driving up to the edge of the cliffs and being able to contemplate the far below pounding Atlantic while running through a few warmup songs. You know, the kind of thing you might see bands do in videos which look quite amazing, but have no bearing in reality. But yeah. We are going to go do that reality.

Or so we think.

When we arrive in the general area, we discover the whole thing has been somewhat commercialised and that simply driving up to the cliffs and looking after yourself isn’t a thing. Instead you have to park in the visitor carpark which has a charge, and then there’s the whole ‘Cliffs of Moher experience.’ It looks like it’s a whole daytrip thing rather than just come and briefly hang out thing. That’s not part of any of our plans at all. So we decide to forget about this part of it all and just go park near the venue and have a little play there. We’re still on the coast, so we’re still able to find a lovely seaside spot to park up, get the guitar out and have our planned little warmup play in the car, with the front seats reclined all the way back to give ourselves a little more room. We spend a little time leisurely working through a few songs, then rest a little bit more, then we’re ready to drive the last few metres to the venue before heading in to set up.

It’s to a slightly bemused clientele that we roll in and begin to prepare ourselves. But we have been afforded a really good space to play in. A whole wall area directly opposite the bar. Up to the bar and over to the left, unseen around the corner, a small group of men is gathered. Once we have set up somewhat organised, I take myself round there and introduce us with cards, and they seem quite warmly welcoming and intrigued as to what we’re going to do. While I’m doing this, Maja takes the right hand side of the bar and introduces us over there and we then both make our way across the bar area itself before meeting in the middle. Right back to the very first days in Berlin, then onto Hamburg, we realised that it was a good idea to let people know this will be a short show, and one of originals only, and generally give people some kind of idea of what we’re about. That done, we return to our stage area to continue preparation. As we’re starting to put our equipment together, an old man comes up to me and asks if we’re going to play trad. ‘If you don’t you’ll have me to answer to,’ he says in some form of mock aggression. But he isn’t changing his stance too much and it looks like he really is expecting some kind of response and acquiescence. As we’re enjoying our mini standoff and I’m trying to explain to him that we’re only going to be doing our own stuff, no trad, a lady enters the picture, comes between us and talks gently to him, explaining what’s going on. For a start, the man also seems a bit perturbed and a little angry that we’re getting the chance to play in here when he wasn’t able to get himself booked. The lady quickly introduces herself to me as Helen, then returns her attention to him. ‘These guys have got something different going on altogether,’ she begins. ‘They’re not being paid by the bar. They’re actually very brave people just rocking up to places, doing their own thing and then passing the hat.’ He still doesn’t seem to understand and still wants to remonstrate with me but she guides him out of the back door, turning to me and saying, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll sort him out.’ Great. When she returns, san slightly confused old man, Maja’s arrived on the scene and I introduce them to each other. Helen then addresses both of us emphatically, saying, ‘I think what you guys are doing is brilliant, and just so brave. Just to have got off your backsides, created something and then started to bring it round to people who have no idea what you’re about to do, and sink and swim on your own devices, I think that’s just amazing.’ Thankyou very much. ‘You know what?’ she continues, ‘I have to go. I can’t stick around, but I’m going to put a fiver in your hat just for the pure stones you guys have to go around and do this. All fair play and respect to you. With that, she produces the promised fiver and drops it in the hat, then she hugs us both, wishing us all kinds of good luck both for tonight and beyond, and heads out the front door.

As we approach showtime, a large group of girls on a birthday night out around the towns and villages comes in. This is a thing in rural Ireland – groups of people renting a minivan for an evening and going round a whole bunch of different places. We often see such vans in Clara. A few of them, including the birthday girl, come and say hi and are very very interested in what we’re about to do. They say they’ll be up front and are really up for it. Great. Out of nowhere we have our main audience. When we start, they are exactly where they said they would be. Four or five of them starting to get into the swing of it and dancing. But the group as a whole kind of holds back and the girls dancing seem to get slowly discouraged and they fall back as well, meaning we’re playing to a mostly disinterested looking bar; the guys around the corner have stayed firmly around the corner. However, through this veil of indifference a few people really stand out for their levels of interest. A few guys sitting facing the bar have turned round and are looking at us in something resembling confused shock. Like, what the hell is this. More and more, this starts to spread about the place and now and then, one of the guys round the corner comes and has a look for a while. We’re a long way from totally winning the bar over, but people do at least seem to be listening and a few people seem to be really deep into what we’re doing but quite unsure of how to react. My take on this is that most, if not all, of the people in here have never seen a grassroots original band. Sure, they’ve probably been to a Stones or U2 concert, or seen other bands on varying rungs of the fame ladder. But right down and dirty brand new unknown acts playing their own music and songs that mostly no-one’s ever heard before? No. Don’t think so. I would say that the entirety of bar concerts anyone in here has ever seen has been coverbands. Which means they really have no idea of what to make of us. If there was to be an emphatic response, I also think that’s been a bit dampened by the more dominant personalities in the room. Maybe one or two of those guys round there are being a bit cool for school, or non comitant, so the others feel they can’t really show too much enthusiasm. Ditto for the group of girls, which seems to have totally lost interest. But none of this phases me or Maja the tiniest bit as we continue to perform as though we own the place and it’s our very own little Wembley. That’s just how you have to do it. Back down, show the slightest amount of fear, lack of confidence or hesitation and it’s all over. Keep pushing forwards and at the very least, you’ll find a way through. And so it is here, as those who are into it really seem to be picked up and transported by the way we’re totally giving them a real show, regardless of what the general feeling in the room might be. Our thoughts on all this are a little borne out by the round of pass the hat which I take on once we finish. The guys are polite enough but mostly decline, and one of them even says, ‘I’d pay to you stop.’ I don’t miss a beat or take offence. Instead, I just smile the smile and say, ‘Well, look, we stopped for free so you’re all good.’ The girls? Well, as one, they just don’t want to know at all and I don’t push it. Afterall, you can’t and shouldn’t. The hat’s there. All you can do is make people aware of it and they’re free to react in any way they want to. But out of these cold hard pockets, a few people almost seem at a rush to get to me and drop something in, and one or two even call me back when I inadvertently miss them out and start to walk off. Like we thought during the show, something has connected somewhere. OK. One down. We pack up and leave with no-one seeming to notice we’re doing so. Fair enough. Onto the next place.

We find quite a lively atmosphere at The Corner Post in Lahinch. This is a two room bar. The front is quite traditional and loung-ey, then off to the side of that through a small doorway is a much larger room, currently operating as something of a dining room for three long tables around the two walls right and left, and one at the top of the room. When we enter, Michael, the manager, says we can set up wherever we want in the lounge area. Every table is taken, and there’s just one space available which is right inside this room at the bottom of the two steps up to the dining area. However, it’s full of tables right now and Michael suggests we wait until the big group has gone and then we can put the tables in there and begin at the rough start time of 10pm. That big group is a hen night, so all girls out on the town. This request to wait until they’re leaving so we can use their space for the tables that are in our way doesn’t strike me as odd until we’re packed up and leaving at the end of the night. He’s just said we should wait until that group is gone before we start because their presence is preventing us from setting up. However, it’s because that group is here that he’s booked us in here tonight. In all the busy-ness of the evening, this little fact seems to have been forgotten. And anyway, when 10:40 rolls round and they’re still there, we decide we can’t wait any longer and move the tables into there anyway, positioning them just about appropriately with the help of the bar staff letting us know where they can and can’t go. OK. We can set up and get started now. We do this with one speaker to the right of me stage right, taking care of this room, and the other speaker to the left of Maja pointing in towards the girls. Just as we’re set up and ready to go, they all start singing Zombie by The Cranberries. Hearing this, I join on to accompany them on guitar and they react in full-on joy. With this simple call and response, they are with us. Just a few more minutes of last minute preparations and we’re all good. We’re in and the girls are up on their feet and loving it. But we’ve started far too late and they now are indeed about to leave. They manage to stick around for the second song as they wait for stragglers to be ready, but then they really are out the door. As they file past us, I’m chugging on an E chord as we enter the break of Run. We hold off on the vocals and talk to the girls as they walk past, thanking them and encouraging them to take cards. They take it all in fun and plenty of communication and thanks and warm words come back from them. But then they’re gone and we’re left playing to a tiny bar of a few patrons scattered round tables with two or three actually sat at the bar. But, just like at McHugh’s, we once again find ourselves looking into faces staring back at us in some kind of disbelief and uncertainty of how to act to what’s going on. And the applause is wonderfully warm when it comes. The bar staff are also totally into it, and when we finish, almost everyone is happy to put money in the hat that I take round. But that everyone really does not add up to very many people. But still, we’ve made something of an impression in here tonight, although I’m a little disappointed to hear that Michael wasn’t able to stick around and had to head off to meet someone. Oh well. Like the last place, we leave without organising a return date, but that’s absolutely fine. They’ll call or they won’t. In the meantime we’ve got a whole country to have a run at as we just continue to push relentlessly forwards.

Day 43
Sunday April 10

We do have plans for that relentlessness today in the form of more hustling, but after arriving home near 3am last night after two gigs and the drive, we take far more time to feel up and at it than we expected. Instead, we watch movies, and later on, get to gentle work with pre pre production as we call up Supersonic and start to learn and rehearse it.

Day 44
Monday April 11

We ordered a few things from Thomann and they arrive today. As ever, a Thomann delivery can feel a bit like Christmas, especially when you don’t remember everything you’ve ordered and that’s just what it’s like today. By the time we’ve finished and have allocated new and already existing bits and pieces to road set up and studio gear, we have two complete sets of equipment meaning we can just keep our live stuff packed and ready to go. No more need to pull down the studio, take it out, then put it back together again. All we need to do now is unhook the studio monitors to take out as live speakers, and off we go. Among all this we now have an extra speaker stand meaning we can now set up two speakers either side of us on stage for a much more professional look rather that what we have been doing which is one speaker on a stand, another on a table. And more, we also have the capability to fit all this on the trollies we have, so while we will be using the car for the foreseeable, we can still walk around with all this stuff if we have to like we did in Berlin and Hamburg.

To get all this done, we dive into a busy day going through everything we already had and everything new and splitting it all into sections, while also making sure each piece of equipment is marked to denote where it belongs, which serves the automatically dual purpose as marking it as ours for when those tricky moments can arise, such as a DJ, another band on a bill, or simply a musically well supplied venue thinking you might just innocently and accidentally be taking something of theirs. I had a very awkward situation in a previous band. We were packing our gear up when the duty manager of the bar insisted the speaker we were loading onto our trolly was theirs. This really strained polite relations for an uncomfortable ten minutes or so until someone finally remembered that one of their DJs had taken theirs home with him the previous night to fix it.

Back to today and by the time we’ve finished with our delivery we now have enough for two fully functioning studios in the house and a live setup. With this we begin setting up a whole new studio in the upstairs spare bedroom. This is where we decide most of our recording will be done. The larger downstairs studio will now be used for preproduction, and especially as a place where I can work on practicing and maybe even recording bass parts at times when Maja is in the studio upstairs.

Day 45
Tuesday April 12

Mark:

After a little studio time, as afternoon comes, we start to get ready for what will be our first real hustle day. I say this because we’re not totally counting the Clare/Galway hustle for two reasons. First, the Liscannor/Lahinch trip was based on actual leads and being able to drop a name, so at the very least they were warm rather than completely cold calls. And second, because Galway wasn’t so much a hustle, more an exercise in collecting emails and phone numbers and not being able to pitch to anyone.

And I say ‘we get ready’ because we fully pack the car as if going for a gig because, should the circumstances arise, we want to be ready to play a venue there and then. Either a manager could be like, you can play tonight/now if you want, or we could actually offer it if we think the window is there. This packing of the car includes overnight provisions including an overnight bag, our blow up double mattress, and sleeping bags. Because, well, you just never know.

Our first hustle target is our nearest decent sized town of Tullamore, the biggest town in our county of Offaly.

The plan is to first ask if a bar actually does music of any kind because if it doesn’t, it’s not likely to be viable and there’s no point wasting anyone’s time. But even then, nothing is set in stone. As we make our way round the town, quite a few places don’t, and we say thankyou for your time and goodbye.

One of the places we have highest hopes for is The Goalpost where Pat plays, so at the very least we already know they have regular live music. We pop our heads in and immediately see it’s too busy for anyone to have any time to talk to us. Oh dear. It’s approaching 6pm and we may have left it too late for today. OK. Carry on.

So straight to Fergies, the main live venue of Tullamore. There, we meet Fergie himself. The bar is empty and we’re thinking, ‘Here we go.’ But he seems totally uninterested and not massively communicative and is really just like, ‘I’ll have a look and get back to you if I think it’s something I could go for.’ Fair enough I guess and maybe he’s inundated with bands, or has enough going on already, and that’s just his way of dealing with new people coming in. But we were expecting a little more, even if just a touch of engagement and interest in what we were doing. Especially when we’re able to say we don’t charge and are going for the hat approach. Maybe that’s the part he doesn’t like and it might not be for everyone. Who knows?

Just outside the door of this bar we see a poster advertising a lineup of original acts coming soon in a venue called John Lees. Which is just round the corner. Oh yes. This was already on our list but we hadn’t yet checked to see where it was. A band called Double Bill who we saw at the trap last week told us about this place. Thanks for the tip lads. We’re here now. In we go.

Oh well. The main man, John, isn’t in. It’s suggested we try again after eight.

Another few bars with no managers in sight. This is starting to get slightly frustrating.

We decide it could be time to see if The Goalpost has calmed down. It has. A little. The barman points the manager, Darren, out to us who is out in the bar, and we go and introduce ourselves. He Politely listens to our pitch and, when we’ve finished, says, ‘You can’t argue with that.’ It’s a wonderfully casual and encouraging acceptance. He asks us to leave details and says he could possibly put us on the weekend after next. Thankyou very much. We’ll say no more and see how that pans out.

Onto the next town, which we’ve selected as Moate. This journey takes us all the way back to Clara, and through the other side.

As we arrive and take in the small town, which is comparable in size to our own Clara, we see that there are three possible bars. Peadars, Egans and The Gap House. While Clara is a town centred around a few streets and something of an identifiable shape, Moate is one of those towns you see so often in Ireland which consists of one single, long street on something of a main road with constant fast traffic passing through it, all using it simply as a place to go through to get somewhere else.

Peadars’ outside advertising makes it very clear this is a bar for live music, so we feel quite good as we go in. Once more we discover no manager is in, but the bargirl Anita is open to us and seems really interested in what we have to say and says she will let the manager know. Great

Egans is a small looking place, but when we go in it’s surprisingly big. No manager again, but the girl who introduces herself as Rachel thinks the manager could well be interested. Again, OK.

Now we go for The Gap House, a really quite large looking place right at the end of the town with the main road shooting off either side of it. We enter and find ourselves in the front bar which is quite sparse of furniture on its pristine wooden floors. There are two guys sitting at the bar and one behind it. We go and ask the barman if they ever have music and he politely says that no they don’t. No worries at all. Thankyou for your time, we will bid you good day. Maja walks out and I follow. But then I quickly turn around and decide to introduce ourselves to the patrons and barman anyway and give them cards, just because. These are accepted with some degree of well graced bemused amusement with a touch of genuine curiosity. I then ask the barman’s name and he gives it as Dennis. Lovely. Thankyou and goodbye. We leave again. Maja is out first again. ‘Do you charge at all?’ Dennis calls out to our backs. I turn round. ‘No we don’t. We only play half hour shows then we pass a hat around and see what happens. ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘In that case you could probably come back and do something one night when I might know I could have a few in.’ Oh wow. A possible gig out of absolutely nowhere. And we were on our way when the window opened. ‘That would be wonderful,’ says Maja. ‘Great,’ says Dennis. Leave it with me and I’ll give you a call sometime.

As we walk out into the street and the door swings shut behind us we collapse in fits of hysterical laughter. I have never, never experienced anything like that in a bar hustle before.

As we return to the car, we notice a poster for a craft beer festival in this town sometime in July and it will include live music. Cool. Another contact to add to the list. I cross over the road and jot down the details. We will be in touch.

Now we’re off to the one bar village of horseleap. One bar. Does that qualify it as a village? No idea. Anyway, that’s where we’re going now. We arrive and see it’s not just one bar, it’s also one shop, with both places housed in the same building and run by the same person. Literally. Behind the bar we meet Brida who is happy to hear our pitch for what we have to offer. As we’re talking to here, there’s a tinkle and we realise someone’s walked in the other door outside and has entered the shop. Brida excuses herself and disappears off to the side of the bar. Oh, she is now behind the counter of the shop. It’s the same counter. This side looks like a bar and that side looks like a shop counter. But it’s the same piece of construction. Only in a place like this. She comes back and we chat for a little while and she says that yes they do have music occasionally, and yes, there could be room for us, but she has no idea when that could be just yet. OK. Positive. Maybe something to think of for the future. We thank her for her time and leave it there. Yeah, we could do something in here if we catch it at the right time.

We need to go shopping which means we need to go back to Tullamore. Which just happens to coincide with the little after 8pm time when we were told the main man would be in John Lees. As we enter the town we notice a large bar on the edge of it that we’ve driven past many times. Large enough to have its own car park. Why the hell not? We stop and walk in. It really is quite big and split into two more or less equally sized bars with the front door giving you the option to go left or right into either one of them, and they’re joined again at the back by a little walkway, creating a kind of circle. A social circle, if you will.

It’s quiet and the bar girl we speak to says that yes, the bosses are in and that she can introduce us to them. She leads us into the opposite bar to the one we’re in now and points out two people sitting on the public side of it, right at the far end. Thankyou. We go down and introduce ourselves to them. They are Gordon and Maria, and they listen attentively as we give them our pitch. They look at each other, have a silent conference, and then Gordon says, ‘Why not? When would you be thinking of?’ We have a think and the four of us settle on this Friday. So that’s it. Just like that, Gig booked.

Back out in the carpark and we’re giddy with the excitement of a result in a bar we really weren’t considering and not one person has mentioned to us as a possibility.

Now we have John Lees, which is on the way as we head to the supermarket. We’re met by the barman who happily takes us out back to meet the man himself, and oh, this is a much bigger place than we expected. We’re to discover it’s three venues in one. The front bar, the really quite large covered beer garden area, and yet another small venue complete with stage in a room leading directly from that. John shows us it all as we talk about who we are and he tells us about the kinds of events the place has. They include a Ukraine benefit concert coming up next Friday – the 22nd. He says he’s happy to chat to the guy organising that to see if he could find a spot for us. Probably a 15 minute show for us. If that bill is full, John says he’d be prepared to organise another day we could play to see how we go and take it from there. Like our man Darren at The Goalpost said, can’t argue with that.

We know there’s been a lot there to take in, so to recap, out of today’s hustle, this is what we’re looking at.

15th April – this Friday: The Lantern
Friday 22nd April: possibly John Lees
Saturday or Sunday 23/24th April: possibly The Goalpost

There are also call-back possibilities to venues showing at least some kind of interest.

Peadars, Egans, and The Gap House of Moate.

Paddy Ryans of Horseleap, although we’ll probably just leave that one and see.

And a festival event to get on to.

Day 46
Wednesday April 13

We have another delivery today. This time our stationary, which means we have new cards, a whole more ton of beermats, and posters. And stickers, and now even one of those ink stamp things for The Diaries. Very cool. We decide this is a perfect opportunity to go visit a few venues we’ve chatted with to maybe give them a bit of a nudge. First stop is The Lantern in Tullamore, which we’re playing on Friday. So they have our first posters now.

Walking through the town on our way to The Goalpost we bump into our musician friend Pat. He’s with a couple of friends and introduces us to them as rockstars. ‘These guys are badass,’ he adds. Absolutely fair enough and taken. He was one of the first people to tell us that we were wasting our time trying to play originals with no covers at all. Now he’s all, ‘Go for it guys,’ and introducing us as rockstars. Feels like a turnaround of acceptance.

Now into The Goalpost, again, ostensibly to drop off beermats, and posters just so they have them to hand should we be booked. Seeing what we’ve brought, Darren says, a little gleefully and with a touch of, what the hell do we have here, ‘You guys really aren’t messing around are you?’ Nope. We most definitely are not. With that, Maja declares to him, ‘We are going to be famous. We just are.’ Darren looks on with a smile and a wry shake of the head that says, ‘That might just be true.’

When we arrive for the drop at John Lees, John is there and immediately greets us, saying, ‘Have you seen my email?’ We explain we’ve been out for a while, and that no, we haven’t. ‘No problem,’ he says. ‘I’ve spoken to the organiser and you guys are on the bill for that show next Friday.’ Not only that, but it emerges that our 15 minute slot is at 11:30, the last performance of the night with the whole thing beginning at eight. Our very first bone fide headline show. ‘So we’ve got you booking in for that and we’ll see how it goes,’ he says. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Tullamore done and it’s back out to Moate to to do the same drop of posters and have a cheeky chase-up there.

The first place we pop into is Peadars, where Anita is once more behind the bar. Shesays the manager isn’t there today either, but that’s fine as we tell her we’re just here to drop off these bits and pieces that just arrived today. The bar was empty last time we were here, but there are four people in here today enjoying a quiet drink and they all throw us a hello as we walk in. This makes it slightly easier for us to do what we sometimes do on the hustle which is to say hi to customers and give them a card.

We carry the guitar around everywhere now when we’re out and about like this. First, when we’re out and taking all our gear, because, well, you never know, the guitar doesn’t fit into the boot. So for security reasons we don’t want to leave it lying around all obvious in the car. But secondly, we bring it along anyway for its conversation starter potential and again because, well, you never know.

This turns into one of those ‘You never know’ situations. As we’re thanking Anita and making our way out the door, one of the four people says, ‘Are you really leaving without getting that guitar out giving us a song?’ You see what I mean? Well, what can you say to that? I guess we can. The other three customers instantly become more animated, with one of them even calling out, ‘I hope you’ve brought a hat.’ Oh yes, we have. Yep. We carry that everywhere with us too. Because, well, you never know.

There is a little table area that musicians usually use in the corner opposite the bar, but we’re not going to use it. Instead, it just becomes somewhere to store the guitar case. We have two people sitting at the right of us at this end of the bar, a guy at the other end and, opposite, the man who first suggested we should play, seated at a table near the door. Me and Maja have a quick conference wondering what to play and go for Rock’n’Roll Tree. As we begin, I gently nudge Maja forwards, whispering at the same time for her to do so. And so she does. So Maja is now pretty much on her own standing right in the middle of the bar with me a little behind. This reason for this is to put her closer to the people so that she can be heard better above the guitar because, well, she doesn’t sing massively loud and this is a big song and there’s only so much I can reduce its volume. The guys and lady in here immediately go for the song, reacting to each dynamic change with increasing delight. A minute or so in and a few phones are out filming us, one of them being held by Anita behind the bar who is looking on joyously. By the time we come to the climactic end, at least two of of our small audience are off their seats dancing, and the cheers and applause make it sound like we’ve just played a far bigger room. We react to them with thrilled laughter and profuse thanks and I make to put the guitar away. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I hear someone call out. You’re not putting that away now. At least one more.’ Yes. More, come calls from all around the bar. ‘I can’t,’ says Maja almost silently to me. ‘My voice won’t do another one like that. Not without an amp.’ Well, what about a low key one? OK. We’re not convinced a quiet song is the best way to proceed, but it’s all we’re going to be able to manage so after a bit of a conference we settle on Smile Is Going Round. This song began life as something of an upbeat mid tempo-er but after it was dropped from the set, I suggested we give it a go as a more sultry number. Before we were halfway through that experiment, we knew we had accidentally unearthed a new keeper. That was a magical rehearsal moment. Now we pull this version out for the first ever time. The effect truly is magical as me and Maja take turns to switch sides in the bar, walking around the place and around each other. As we do, the regulars come and join us, taking turns to dance with each one of us, with one particular moment seeing Maja swaying with one of the guys while I dance with the lady as she has an arm draped round my shoulder.

The Diaries has seen quite a few moments that a Hollywood script editor would have thrown out, and this surely has to be added to them. Two people walk into a bar with a guitar. Get cajoled into playing, then the whole bar gets up and dances with them to songs they’ve never heard before. Oh come on, says script editor. But here we are and that exact thing is happening. We finish to rapturous applause with each person almost rushing to shake our hands or give us a hug. And we get all their names. Pauline and Eamon this end of the bar, or at least they were when we started. John down the other end, and that was Frank who got it all started, and he very vocally claims the credit now and rightly so.

During the wonderful aftermath I’m mentally debating whether or not to bring the hat out. Afterall, we have only played two songs. While I’m still going through this in my mine, Maja picks it up and goes with it. Oh. OK. It’s happening then. There is one mild, slightly jokey protestation that this isn’t quite the Irish way of doing things, but Maja doesn’t back down. And the protest is half hearted at most, and possibly not even really meant at all as every single person drops money into the hat. I think it was possibly more of a surprise, and then they maybe thought, well, why not. Within this, Maja asserts herself saying, ‘This is what we do.’ And I add my bit that the record companies take most of the money and streaming barely pays anything to start with. But this does pay apparently. And we get to keep it all.

Hat done and questions start about who we are and where we came from, and we delight in tag teaming each other as we fill them in on our story and their collective heart melts a little more with each extra detail. Then Anita drops in with, ‘I’ll be sure to tell the boss about this. Hopefully he’ll have you in for a show.’ Hopefully.

Soon after that we say our goodbyes and head out across the road to the car, laughing and shaking our heads in total euphoric disbelief as Maja says, ‘We might just be the first people ever to drop into a pub for 20 minutes and leave with more money than we went in with.’

Now onto The Gap House. A little disappointingly Dennis isn’t there so we speak with bargirl Sarah instead and ask if we can leave a poster and beer mats with her. She’s a little confused, but is like, er, OK.

Next it’s back into Egans where we find the one barman standing in the middle of the bar chatting to the few people who are in – one guy at the bar and two people at each of the two tables opposite the bar. He says he’s not the manager but he’s happy to talk. Talk music? Well, we have regular people and that’s it really. What if we’re not charging but want to do our own thing for half an hour and pass a hat round? Oh. OK. When would you like to do that? Whenever really. Next Thursday, he offers. Just come in whenever, he suggests breezily. And just like that, job done.

Back home and we decide to go to the trap for one or a few. Once in there and comfortably seated at the bar, we say hi to a few lads and they give a big enthusiastic hi to Maja as it’s the first time they’ve seen her since that first show in here. While we’re chatting, one of them, called Steve, tells us about a bar called Gussies 5km down the road in the village of Ballycumber that has an open mic style thing on Sundays from 6-8. He says he’ll be there with his friends, and now, so will we.

Later on, the bosses, Jimmy and Angela drop by for a drink. I leave Maja with the people we’re chatting to and show them the new beer mats and ask if we can leave a few. No problem. And they them and want to know where we got them printed. Maja’s been on that so I say I’ll go and get her for them. So go back to the table and Maja disappears to chat to Jimmy and Angela for a while. It really goes on a while as I see them in deep conversation. When she comes back, she says, we got it organised. We’re playing here Wednesday May 11. Wow.

So this is where we are and what we have now.

Home recording studio
Home rehearsal/pre production studio
Car packed with overnight needs
Fully portable road gear
A producer to guide us
A website
Pre production underway on our debut album with actual production imminent.
New beer mats, new cards and posters, with a bunch of all three out in a load of bars
An income. An actual income. Not enormous amounts, but we have now proved that can actually generate real hard currency money playing live with our own songs

A few new gigs in the diary from today:

The Lantern, Tullamore, this coming Friday.
Egans, Moate, Thursday 21st April
John Lee’s, Tullamore. Confirmed for our first headline show Friday 22nd April
Gussies, Ballycumber: a new open mic thing, whatever it turns out to be for this Sunday
The Trap booked for Wednesday 22nd May
And money that we didn’t have when we left, from the hat from a mini show we got asked to play on the spot. Which means a show played out of nowhere today can be added to the list above.

Oh, one thing before we leave this entry. While we were in The Trap, my phone rang. At first I thought it was the manager from Peadars calling to book us. But no. It was the guy from Egans, apologising massively, saying he’d jumped the gun, had spoken to his boss since we left, and the boss had nixed the show, saying their’s was purely a trad bar. Paul can’t apologise enough, but I tell him it’s all cool, and add that I really appreciate him letting us know. So, while you’re here, you can go up to that list and just cross that gig off.

Day 47
Thursday April 14

With a live performance yesterday and four more assured – with a fifth that quickly went by the wayside – we take a day off hustling to concentrate on Diary writing, which has been massively neglected lately, and to get some real mileage in the studio. But a maker’s gonna make, a ballers gonna ball and a hustler’s gonna hustle. Late on we decide to go for a decent sized shop at one of those edge of town supermarkets that Tullamore has. One of them, bizarrely, has a pub at its edge. It’s not so much a pub with a carpark, as a carpark that just happens to have a pub. Apart from being massively curious as to what this kind of pub could be like, we also look at each other and are like, why not? It’s a bar, we’re here, they can only say no. It also has a sign at the door that says it has music. OK. In we go and the barman calls the manager over who seems to be off duty and having a drink with friends. But she still comes and is happy to hear what we have to say. Her name is Jenny, she is absolutely lovely with us and personally very interested in our story and what we’re doing. But she says the customers wouldn’t be. This, she explains, is one of those bars where people come for a quiet drink and know that’s what they’re getting when they choose a bar like this. They wouldn’t thank anyone who rocked up and, well, rocked. I totally get this. As much as I love my live music and have often sought out original bands, if I wanted to chat to a friend or friends, and just chat, we would steer ourselves away from potentially louder places and choose that one over there that never had any live music. If someone then came in and proceeded to do the music thing live, I know we wouldn’t be impressed, even if we were impressed. So Jenny is purely reflecting her business and all good. But I really feel we make a big impression on her and Maja doesn’t hesitate to give her a few cards. We leave with all her good wishes, and feeling like we’ve once more left with something on the table. If you’re trying to spread by word of mouth, and where we are, we feel that’s the most powerful tool you can have, we’ve once more put that word out. Jenny, just thankyou for listening. Sometimes that in itself can be good enough.

Day 48
Friday April 15

When we were being told to please please not attempt to play original songs to coverband audiences, they’ll throw things at you, please don’t do it, lads, I’m telling ya, you’ve got to throw a couple of covers in or they’ll eat you alive, I think The Lantern in Tullamore would have been pretty high on anyone’s mind. Right on the edge of town, it’s a pub for 50-something year old hard men who want to play pool and watch sport. And maybe once in a while get in touch with their more sensitive side by waving their hands in the air to Sweet Caroline while making sure not to touch anyone else’s hand. It is not a place you go into and try to sing your own songs. It just isn’t. Which, of course, is exactly what we’re going there to do tonight. ‘Don’t do it lads,’ I can almost hear as we walk in the door. To be fair, our initial experience is to be greeted with nods of friendliness and a few murmurs of at least appreciation as we park up right next to the door and start loading the gear in. We enter the cavernous room on the right hand side of the bar and yep, there’s live soccer on the telly. The most popular thing in here is the pool table, and there are a few guys hanging round still wearing their hi-vis tops. Over in the other bar are two large tables hard at playing poker. I’m only assuming it’s poker. At the very least, it’s a card game requiring serious, silent and slightly menacing levels of concentration. Yep. We wrote some songs that we’re going to play in here tonight.

From all this, Gordon looks up and welcomes us with a generous smile. Like quite a few people before him, he’s given us this gig without even having heard us. I don’t know what must be going through his mind, but he’s bright and positive and interested to hear how we’ve been getting on and seems genuinely please when we tell him we have our first headline gig, also in Tullamore, for next week.

We feel the curiosity levels rise all over the place as we set up in the corner showing nothing but quiet assuredness and confidence. You really can’t overestimate how much this can be as important as any performance. Show fear or nerves in the centre of all this and you can be done before the first song starts. Show total confidence and people might just sit up and think, ‘Oh, OK. Let’s see what we have here.’ Seeing what they have here is exactly what the guys and ladies in this place do. They give us at least that, and show amusement and some decent level of interest as we do our pre show thing of handing out cards and letting people know what we’re about to do in here.

You really don’t want to show your hand too much at an originals gig, but that’s tricky when you have to soundcheck in front of everyone, which is what we do now, with the jukebox still on – Gordon did offer to turn it off but we said it was fine. This is a very important element of the night. We don’t want to go on too long and start annoying people and lose them before the first song, but we also have to get it right. To that end, for the first time, we begin by just soundchecking with the monitor that is only facing us. Get the mix right in there, then turn on the speakers. Here, I ask Gordon to let me know if things get too loud, and I play guitar at the highest levels of volume I can manage while Maja gently turns up the dial. I stop it at a pretty decent place and glance over to Gordon at the pool table, and he winks an approval. Great. Get some vocals in there and make sure they’re high enough in the mix. We’re done. See you in a few.

Gig time and everyone is holding their positions. Backs to us at the bar. Coldly concentrating on the next pool shot. We just launch straight in. A four count and I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). This has them going straight away and ears perk up and people at least half turn towards us. The pool guys are nudging each other just ever so slightly to maybe pay a little attention. And there we are, smashing and rocking it out and acting as though the bar’s full of a crowd that came out tonight to see nothing but us and wanting a show. Maja’s hair is flying all over the place and she’s roaring at the ceiling. Next to her, I’m pounding away on the guitar like I’m trying to break up a road. In perfect time and rhythm of course. When we finish, it’s to cheers, shouts and a very insistent applause. We say nothing. Right into the next one. Rock’n’Roll Tree. And on and on it goes. Run really gets people going tonight, more than it ever has, Beanie Love really has them smiling and some actually bouncing with us. In between all this, Gordon walks past us and drops what is actually a performance fee into the hat. We’ve actually just been paid. For the first time. Not a bar manager kindly dropping a personal fiver in. An actual decent standard rate for a regular bar band. After this, Fire. Oh, Fire. Pardon the pun, but this is a gentle slow burn that asks an audience to just trust you and hop on for the ride and see where it goes. By the time we get to it, they’re ready and prepared to at least see which direction this thing is headed in. It’s a quiet opener and I take my cue from Victor Wooten, and his lesson that sometimes it isn’t volume that gets people to listen, but lack of it. I dial back as far as I can on the gentle arpeggiation of the earlier stages of this song and the bar falls into the sudden quietness we’ve brought upon the place. We have them. We really have them. This song builds. And falls back, and then builds again to climax in a burning adrenaline rush. When the final rush hits and then pitches into silence, the bar erupts. Oh wow. If ever there was a crowd that epitomised the kind of crowd we thought we could come and play to where few others would even attempt, this is the one. And, right from the beginning, back in London, we had the confidence that we could win such a room over. Before we even had a single song written. And here we are. We’re even point blank refusing requests to play this or that song, or to have this or that person come up and sing with us. We’re here to do our thing and that’s he end of it. We smile and we’re polite. But firm and clear. We play originals. No covers, no singalongs. The message is received and respected as what could have become demands just shrink back and cease.

After the gently epic intermission of Fire, it’s onto Six Sense Lover, brand new song How You Rock’n’Roll, then the frenetic, almost metal sounds of My Game My Rules, which we attack like we never have before, with Maja spitting the words out with a new fury of viscious, daring threat. And the finale, we just howl it into the air and up at the full moon that we know is out there looking down on us tonight. As we finish and collapse in a pool of sweat and heavy breathing like a distance runner coming off the last tortured strait, the bar picks up where we left off, filling the room with sound and at least some cry of ‘Encore.’ The call isn’t insistent enough though, so we decline to continue. But hey, encore definitely got called and we’ll take that.

We feel we’ve passed quite a few of the sternest tests tonight. Now for the final one. The hat. Which has already seen some action with a few people stepping forwards and making a drop. I make special care to go to them first and express my appreciation. Now I head off round the rest of the place and each group I approach opens up, lets me in, then closes around me as everybody puts in. Everybody. Some even cajole friends to get their wallets open. There’s a mood of triumph in here and handshakes are all around with people also keen to chat briefly and ask how we’ve been getting on generally and when we’ll be back next.

When I get back to Maja, she’s busy chatting to a few guys who’ve come over and hands me one of our beer mats. It contains a handwritten message and her autograph, and now I’m requested to add mine. We’re told, ‘You guys are going to be something, and this will be going behind the bar for everyone to see that you were here.’ Oh wow. We even have a private party request and we negotiate a provisional fee that any professional band would be happy to accept. Whether or not they follow through is irrelevant and we suspect they won’t. But they were impressed and interested enough to ask and we’re delighted with that.

Now, those beer mats. We’ve just had them redone and we deliberately made the open space on them clearer to make it possible to autograph. A massively presumptuous move, but really, it felt anything but. And here we are, on our first full gig since receiving them, and we are indeed being asked for our autographs.

Once we’re all packed up, it takes a while for us to be able to leave. It’s all hand shakes and hugs and, for Maja, huge hugs. A few even tell me how refreshing it is to hear someone doing their own thing, that all they usually hear are the same songs by different people. Didn’t see that one coming. And then we’re home. We’ve only played a half hour show so it’s still nowhere near last orders. We unload the car into the downstairs studio and before we know it, we’re back out the door again and down to The Trap where we grab our massively appreciated post gig beer and just sit there in a daze as we try to take in what we’ve just done.

Maja:I just want to write a little of my experiences

Day 49
Saturday April 16

Mark:

We wake up still a little overwhelmed about last night. The biggest thing we feel is vindication. Everything we thought we could do when we started has just been done. We always knew we could. But actually doing it. Actually going through the experience and coming out the other side like that is a whole different thing. A relief? A triumph? No. The word really is vindication. But really, you know, you know and you know. But until you really do, all you truly have is belief in yourself. Hard, cold, unshakeable belief maybe, but at the end of the day, it’s still only belief. Now it’s actual, total knowledge.

We’ve walked into a cold solid coverband bar with our own music and were met with, well you saw it just like we did. Cheers, encore shouts, autographs and payment. But as much confidence as we’ve always had, getting autograph requests in such a venue this early in the game was never a part of even our most optimistic vision.

Now we feel, for the very first time, that we have a few shows coming up with no weight on them. Open mic tomorrow, whatever that really is, then headlining with four songs in original venue next week. And it’s Easter weekend now so the bars will be busy so we can’t even get out and hustle.

Day 50
Sunday April 17

Into Ballycumber and Gussies for tonight’s open mic. What will this be all about? For a start, we see that Gussies is one of three bars on a short stretch of road. So surely it’s not going to be full of guys and girls rocking up with their guitars like what we saw in Berlin. We’ve arrived a little early and are enthusiastically greeted by the already slightly busy bar. All stools at the bar itself are taken, so we order cups of tea and take a table by the window.

While we’re there we work on what will become something of a mission statement for our website and ‘donate’ button. We hammer it out for a while until it looks like this:

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

Please think of the Donate button as the online equivalent of the hat and help keep us on the road

Just before 7pm, Emmet, the man of the night comes in, sees our guitar and comes and says hi. We ask about what’s going on and it very quickly becomes clear that this isn’t quite an open mic in the way we might imagine such a thing. Instead, it’s more an open trad session where you have the performers, or in this case, the performer, and people are welcome to sit in at the table with them, or now and then, people might be free to do their own thing, maybe as in the case of an open mic, so I can see the overlap. I’ve always known trad sessions operated kind of like this. It’s just that we weren’t totally sure what we were walking into was essentially a trad session, just a one man affair. And a very popular one; as soon as 7pm nears round the doors barely stop opening as more and more people come until there’s hardly any room left in the place. He starts and it is indeed all Irish ballads and rebel songs. Fair enough. But we don’t really fit into this. But Emmet’s game and a few songs in he invites us to do our thing. Just like we did in Peadars in Moate last week, we don’t accept the invitation to take the performers’ spot. Instead we do the whole perform out on the floor thing, with me and Maja again moving around the place, around each other and at times just moving as one. We play two songs and we do get a pretty decent response, but we also feel that people aren’t totally sure how to take us and our in your face approach. But, much like Clare a few weeks ago, it’s clear that within the slightly bewildered uncertainty, some people are massively into it, especially a small group of guys over in the corner at the end of the bar. We finish and take a seat and order a couple of cokes and settle back to hear what else Emmet has got in his locker. We feel we’ve given a good account of ourselves and have at least been appreciated if not quite fully embraced. Maybe we were just too up, loud and brash. If so, fine. That won’t make us back down at all. But maybe we’ve judged a bit too quickly about how we were judged. About ten to fifteen minutes later and we’re starting to be asked why we’ve put the guitar away. Surely we’re going to do more. As encore shouts go, it’s the most benign I’ve ever heard. We smile politely and say thanks for the encouragement, but encouragement turns to insistence. Come on. You’re not done. Get up and do some more. I’m almost apologetic as I catch Emmet’s eye and say, ‘Are you OK with us getting up again?’ No problem, he says. But we’ve decided to play more to what the room might want this time and give them something slower, laid back, but maybe just a little intense. We go for Insanity, a song we love but which isn’t in our big smash set. Everyone’s talking as we stand in the middle of the bar and start, totally unamplified. Maja doesn’t even begin to attempt to sing over the noise. Instead, she starts so quietly even I can’t hear her. But a line or two in and the bar starts to quieten down, until all that can be heard is Maja’s gentle delicate voice and my softly arpeggiated guitar. A few people even start to talk a little again but are quickly asked not to by their friends. By the time we finish, it’s fair to say talking has resumed a little, but everyone is still with us and we get the warmest of applauses.

Trad audiences, it seems, are lovely to us and give us a fair crack, but something about us might not connect with them quite so much. And that’s fair enough. Which is why that guy booked us the other day in Moate before it was suggested to him that he might want to reconsider. Now, this isn’t going to make us run scared from trad bars and we’ll happily play any time the opportunity presents itself but tonight’s experience has shown us that if we see a trad bar, maybe we shouldn’t try to book our own show there. We can all still be friends, but it’s possible we should just respect each others’ space even as our spheres occasionally collide. They totally have their thing going on and when they go to it, they expect to see, well, their thing. And maybe, just maybe, a touch of us as well.

However, we have made one little mistake that we will learn from. We gave out beermats and cards before we played. Sometimes this is the right thing to do, but in an open situation like this where keeping the audience informed is not our responsibility, possibly not. What it means now that we have no reason to go round the bar and up to people again. Oh well.

Maja: My recording experiences

Day 51
Monday April 18

It’s two O’Clock in the morning and we’ve only just begun the talking.

I’ve had an idea for a few days a new concept for the website and have been developing wording to go with it. I introduced it to Maja last night during the trad session and, there and then, before Emmet arrived, wrote the first draft on our shared web folder. She gets up at 2am and starts fiddling on the computer to make this new thing work. Then, after a few hours sleep, at 5am we’re both at it as the wording gets refined and she returns to the website to also refine the aesthetics.

What this is all about is putting some wording on our ‘Donate’ button. I feel quite strongly about the word donate. It suggests giving to a charity, or giving because you feel generous, or just, really, the problem is with that word too. Giving. Afterall, when you go to a shop and pick up some milk, the money you give to the cashier is not a donation. When you go to a concert, you don’t donate in return for a ticket. And when we used to go and buy albums and CDs, even the record companies paid their bands royalties. These were not donations. So we’re putting our work out for free consumption if that’s how anyone wants it – this very Diary you’re reading now. Our live shows. Our album, which we’re working on right now. All there to just be taken and no problem. But this is what we do. And to sustain it, to make it realistic, money has to come from somewhere. OK, from a record company/ record deal or the joke income, er, stream, of streaming. But there, money is coming from a public that has decided to pay for a product. Record companies pay a fraction of a fraction, and are trying, and succeeding in many cases, to take more and more from more and more of their acts’ activities. And the streaming services don’t even pretend to bother to pay. Not really. So what is a new act to do if they’re trying to be viable on their own two feet as we are? Make it for ourselves. At least that is if we’re saying we don’t want to play the industry’s game, at least not the way they’ve got it set up. Until maybe someone comes along that we actually want to work with but we are doing our best to learn the very painful lessons of so many predecessors who put it all out there for so many other people to get so rich from. People who knew about absolutely nothing about music but knew how to squeeze money, even if it meant choking the people they were squeezing from.

So yeah. The ‘donate’ button is there, and I don’t like the word, but to be fair, there really isn’t a satisfactory alternative. Support? But if someone goes to see a band and pays the demanded entry, they might be supporting them, but that payment to enter isn’t a voluntary donation because the fan cares so much about the band’s individual members’ welfare, even if they do care a little. It’s being paid because if it isn’t, the doors remain closed. So yeah. I want to kind of supercede the word, and I think it’s time our button had a bit more weight. And no, we don’t want to introduce a pay wall. I’ve thought long and hard about how to do this and, as far as we are now, this is it.

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

Please think of the Donate button as the online equivalent of the hat and help keep us on the road

Oh, and that algorithm thing. Something we’ve only recently learned about and it suddenly makes so much make sense because so much of today’s music, at least what’s topping the charts and getting all the radio play, all sounds the same. Why? Because it’s literally designed that way for maximum effect. You want to write a number one song? Have a computer analyse the current number one and write something that hits all the same buttons but doesn’t quite sound the same, but really, does. Refresh and repeat.

As well as being on it at 2am, then 5am, we’re also up again early after a little more sleep to really get onto fully organising the house which just needs those few more touches we haven’t got to since arriving back from Hamburg. The feeling here is that we are actually beginning the recording of the album today and to be fully committed to that, we want to know the space behind us is clear and free of any nagging details. We don’t want to be recording or mixing a track, while knowing a ton of housework is sitting behind us. Of course, housework is never really done, but we want to at least feel on top of it. By around 7:30pm, we feel that we really are. The place looks and feels amazing. House in order and pre production track done and lessons learned. We are really, truly ready to go.

Eight O’Clock on the button and the first actual session of album recording begins. We finish this first session two hours later with a first full rough drum track and doubled guitar track for our first song.

Day 52
Tuesday April 19

Mark:

Although we’re now in the album recording process, our thoughts are still very much on hustling and playing live. Among this, we’re also starting to think about getting ourselves more onto the original scenes around the country. This will be a totally different kind of hustle. Getting onto an original scene is more about knowing the people. Networking, really. Maybe playing open mics in the main cities and actually getting to know the promoters and other acts you could do gigs with. But for now it emails as we start to try to get ourselves onto some festivals. I’m not massively sure what can come of this as again, I believe it’s going to be who you know and what your reputation is, but emailing certainly can’t hurt. So I’m downstairs researching and sending emails on that while Maja is upstairs working on and learning more and more about music production. And in between my other bits and pieces down here, I also have the job of getting into our downstairs studio from time to time and working on pre production so that I’m ready for Maja when she needs me. Part of my pre production is determining the BPMs for the songs so that she can possibly at least lay a raw drum track for me to play to when my recording time comes, and with that, I’m also practicing recording for real down here, learning to play some of the songs to recording level, so that by the time I get upstairs, I’m as ready as I can possibly be and hopefully don’t need too many takes; unlike vocals or bass, acoustic guitar generally has to be done in one take, so a full perfect performance with very little chance for drop-ins. This can only happen if a song has a natural stop/s and you’ve at least recorded up to a stop. And all this has to be done with energy and feeling. And as we’re double tracking the guitars, I have to do it twice. So by the time you get in there, you truly do need to know what’s going on.

Studio and pitching it is today and then around 7pm we start to get ready to go hustle in Athlone, the largest town in our immediate area.

What we’ve neglected to do before setting off however, is to check if there’s are any big sport on tonight. There is. Liverpool v Manchester United, one of the biggest Premierleague fixtures of the season. Which means all the bars are far too busy for a manager to have any time to talk to us.

But we’re here so we still decide to take the opportunity to have a look around and see the inside of some of these bars for the first time. One of them is Sean’s Bar, officially recognised by The Guinness Book of Records as the oldest bar in Ireland. Of course the Guinness book had to say it was an Irish bar. But at around 1000 years old and in the most central major settlement in the country, it probably is. It’s actually known what the oldest bar in the whole world is, but I’d say this place has a pretty good claim. As such it’s about as traditional as you can get. There’s no football in here for a start and we see there’s music every night. But when Sean, the manager, happily comes out to see us, he explains they only have trad music in here. Given our experience of Sunday night, we know what that means and thank him for his time. But he has a little more to give and very generously namechecks a few bars for us that we might like to try, including The Brazen Monkey which we’ve already been in. This is a new bar, he says, so could be a good opportunity for us. Indeed, the guy we spoke to in there said as much but the manager wasn’t around. Which is the case just about everywhere else. Around 10pm and we decide to head home. But then, just at the last corner before our carpark, we see that the bar Flannerys is far quieter than it was when we first arrived and poked our heads in to see that it was packed and the soccer was blaring. Why not? Let’s pop in again and say hello. It’s right there. You never know.

Maja: I’m going to write about our performance

Past the first bar, might as well try. Davey, Lee, Paddy. Sasha behind bar. Phil. Tells us about Jimmy Stewart in Mayors, Ballycumber, and Chrissy in Dark Horse.

For possibly the fifth time in a row, dinner doesn’t happen for us until sometime after 11pm. There’s just so much going on right now and so much to do. And we’re loving it.

Day 53
Wednesday April 20

After a day in the studio we think about returning to Athlone and trying again, but having learned our lesson, we check the schedules first. Yep. Another big match on. OK. Let’s carry on where we are.

Day 54
Thursday April 21

With Maja away in Sweden for ten days from Monday and with a gig tomorrow – our first headline – we decide to forget about the hustle, just keep on hunkering down and keep at it. So again, studio and catchup on Diary writing.

Day 55
Friday April 22

As soon as we arrive at tonight’s gig at John Lee’s in Tullamore, we’re greeted at the entry with, ‘Oh, you’re The Diaries. I saw you guys last week.’ Oh hello. Yep. He was randomly at Gussies in Ballycumber when we played that mildly luke warmly received performance at the trad night. We’re to discover it was slightly warmer than that, the first clue being when he follows his introduction up with, ‘We’ve got you on last tonight because it’s pretty hard to follow what you do.’ He then gives us a bunch of drinks tokens, we have a brief chat, and then me and Maja walk into the venue looking at each other in gleeful disbelief. And what a great looking venue it is. It’s essentially a covered outdoor show. Long, very attractive beer garden with a cool booth style seating system. You won’t get wet, but it’s open to the wind and general outdoor temperature but with powerful gas heaters, the kind that shoot up that single column of fire. So it’s warm enough. Then a really great stage set up with a log panelled backdrop decorated with multicoloured flags and a poster for the event.

While we are in essence headlining what is a benefit concert for local Ukrainian refugees, some of whom are in attendance, we’re the only musical act on tonight. Everything else is comedians and poetry readings. And a magician/comedian act.

We’ve decided to come decently early to catch as much as the whole show as we can. This is to generally see what’s going on and support our fellow performers which does facilitate the hoped for hang later, but apart from that, we really do simply want to enjoy an evening of entertainment that we also happen to be part of.

We are in and out a little bit, but we catch three main sets. Ross, David and Alex.

During this, about 20 minutes to half an hour before our 11pm start time, I have a massive surprise when I recognise a few guys from the Ballycumber performance. And they recognise me too and we have a lovely hello in the back of the bar far away from the stage. My pleasant surprise at seeing some friendly faces turns to absolute shock when they say they’ve come here tonight specially to see us. After we arrived, Dave called and let them know it was us, the act from the other night, and that was it. They were on their way. Do you have any idea how hard it can be sometimes to get friends to come out and see your shows? And here are a group of lads we’ve never met, who’ve gone, ‘Hey, The Diaries are playing tonight. We should go.’ Now I learn that they were only very much passing through Ballycumber that night and decided on the spot to drop into one of the three bars in the village for just the one – and it was just the one – and we just happened to play our first set of two songs while they were there. They weren’t around when we were cajoled into playing a third, but it didn’t matter. By then they were sold. And here they are.

By the time showtime comes around, the atmosphere in here has been completely warmed up by a wonderful set of stand-up routines and at times irreverently observational poetry readings. There’s possibly even a sense of anticipation in the air as we finish setting up and prepare to launch into what will be a well paced five song set. For the tougher cover bar crowds, we play what we call our smash set. For tonight, 15 to 20 minutes, we’re going to start off with two big ones – I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) followed by Rock’n’Roll Tree before taking things right down with Fire and Insanity, then bringing it right back up again with Six Sense Lover. Fire is in our smash set as a slight gamble as it starts delicately before slow burning into something else, but Insanity really is a gentle lovely flower of a song, although it’s cutting in its observations of those who would dissuade you from following your own path. ‘What they want what they need/ They’ll give anything just to see you bleed/ Just the once then they’ll say their right… and so on.

From the very opening frantic one-two-three-four count as we kick ourselves off, this whole place is with us. And the guys who came out to see us are right at the front and wonderfully rocking away. Sitting down, but still very much rocking away. As great as the stage setup is, it is a little strange as it faces directly to that one booth opposite with the rest of the venue at stage left. So, to play to the whole place, me and Maja have to set ourselves up kind of in a line. Both of us facing diagonally but sideways with me having a perfect view of her back the entire time. But this also means that for the first time I’m able to see her full performance, and man does she perform tonight. I see the crouches and the near jumps and the expressive arms and the reflexive thrashes to the pulses of the songs, and her hair whipping right, left and up and down, spurred on by the gusting wind that comes through us every now and again as if to remind us that we are actually almost outside. And that wind is cold and we’ve made our own individual decisions to remove our bigger tops and play as though we were all warm and toasty inside, although those warm and toasty places very quickly turn hot and sweaty for us. But tonight, it’s wonderful to have that wind and I greatly welcome its chilly bellows.

As you probably know, we always go for it, but there’s something a bit more special in tonight’s air as we feel it blow through us in those welcoming cold blasts as we continue to ignite. It could be that maybe for the first time ever we feel we don’t have to force the issue and instead have a crowd that is really on side and with us right from the beginning. We don’t even have to worry in the slightest when we bring the tempo right down as they continue to hang on to every note. We feel this first with Fire, as real fires flame upwards all around this inside/outside room. Then into Insanity, then right back out the other side as we announce our last song, then finish it the roar that’s been accompanying us all evening. No encore shout, but that’s OK.

Out on the floor and it seems everyone wants to talk to us as we immediately have so many people come and say hello. Before we know it, we’re the centre piece of a group photo with more and more people joining. Out in front the official photographer for the event does her best to fit them all in. Then we hear thanks, thoughts, and even a little analysis as we’re described in the most complimentary terms as punk. We’ve heard that before, but here it goes a little further from Dave, one of the organisers who also performed earlier. He says that it’s not so much that we’re punk music. More, he says that punk was always meant as an attitude. Of being individual, of just going for it, of just totally doing your own thing. ‘I really see that in you guys,’ he says. And there’s more. Much much more. As me and Maja go our separate ways to better work the room, we meet the guys who specially came to see us. Reera (I’m certain I spelt that wrong), Cras, who filmed the video of Rock’n’Roll Tree and Padraig. I believe there were a few more too. Among all this I get a massively enthusiastic review of ourselves saying that we are totally on our way and headed for serious places. ‘I’m not the guy to do that,’ my companion says, ‘But you will meet that person. And soon. I’m telling you.’ Man, it is so nice when the faith is coming from someone other than yourselves.

As we hang around and go deeper into the vibrant evening, there are other chats, and people saying they might be able to hook us up with this or that venue or this or that promoter, and the Daves say we are very much in their minds now for future shows. And we also hear the word on a load of open mics and other contacts in Dublin from a chat I have with Ross who makes it clear he doesn’t claim influence, but says that he will pass us on some details that we really should chase up. And true to his word, he does. Cras sends us the amazingly shot video, Ken says he’ll mention us in his blog, and by Sunday, without any notice, we’re just up on the Instagram site of the Tullamore Arts Society. There’s been so much here tonight that has seems to have suddenly elevated us into a place where things just feel that little bit more real.

And one of those videos from Crass
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIjQ81X8dzs

OK. We’re building on our German experience now. We’ve worked on our level and are finding out that our thing really does have the capacity to hit. It did in Germany a few times as well to be fair. Maybe there will always be gigs that don’t quite work, but even in some of our shows that haven’t made it so big, we still felt there were one or two people who were really into it. And then we have something like tonight, with people following us here, and paying to see us after catching us somewhere else. That’s a whole new thing. And taking tonight after pulling off The Lantern, a venue we were told even seasoned cover musicians saw as a tough crowd. Yeah, I think we have this now

Day 57
Sunday April 24

We’ve noticed the occasional creaking sound at the end of our guitar recordings. I have to stay absolutely still to prevent it from happening. But that’s not so easy during songs when there are quiet, or stop/start sections. Little noises have been creeping in there too. I’ve been trying to minimise this in the studio by making sure I’m not wearing anything with buttons, like a shirt. No belt for trousers, and no buttoned trousers either. But still that noise. We discover it’s the strap moving just ever so slightly around where it’s attached to the guitar. Maja comes up with a genius idea to fix this. Put a cut open sock on the ends of each strap and attach them to the guitar through the socks. Now I can move around all I want in front of the most sensitive microphones and there’s no unwanted noise at all I now also have a guitar sock. Come on. Rock’n’roll.

Day 58
Tuesday April 27

I’m on my own for another week or so with Maja having left yesterday for a ten day visit back to Sweden. Top of my to do list is to basically record as much guitar as I can. I’m fairly confident I’ll at least be able to get all the guitar parts down in this time and maybe even one or two bass parts two. I get to really setting things up today, all ready to just blast it down. To continue with her own things, Maja’s taken her interface with her and I’ve got mine. I get to it and after a little while I discover that – well, let’s not get too technical and boring here – my interface doesn’t record in the same way hers does. Which will probably render anything I record on it unusable if we’re going to go for commercially viable levels of quality and consistency. Which we are. At first this is very frustrating because this was the main thing I was planning on doing with my time alone. But then I realise there is plenty I can still do, even if it’s just prep. I can do pretty damn good levels of practice and preparation with what I have. I’m not going to make predictions or get ahead of myself, but yeah, I’m still good with what I have here, just a different kind of good. I’ll take that.

Day 61
Friday April 29

Studio today and the sock falls off the guitar. This is possibly the first time anyone’s ever said or written that in the history of guitars. And yes. That is the most exciting and diary worthy thing that happens today.

Day 66
Wednesday May 4

Maja’s back today and wants to do absolutely nothing. Fair enough.

Day 67
Thursday May 5

Out to buy drumkit and three shops including Dublin
Do we want to write about this?

Day 72
Tuesday May 10

We’re supposed to be playing in The Trap tomorrow but we’ve been checking and there are no posters up and no mention of us on their website. We decide to cancel as it looks like no-one knows we’re playing. We meet Jimmy there and he tells us they lost the posters. ‘But people know alright,’ he says. Word has got around. But if you could bring more and we’ll get them up, that would be good. OK. We’re back on again, not as if we were ever really off, except maybe in our own minds. However, he asks if we could put our time back to 9:30 from 7:30 as one of Clara’s soccer teams has a big match and everyone will be at that. Cool. Done.

Day 73
Wednesday May 11

And what a gig it turns out to be. Fantastic attendance with a massive anticipation around the place for seeing us. And we meet it head on and in full. Huge reactions to everything and, at the end of it all, three encore shouts, two of which we respond to. I’m fortunate enough to have quite a lot of experience of triple encore calls. And in that experience, the third rarely goes well and you end up wishing you’d stopped at two. So we do, and still leave them wanting more.

This is also the first outing of our brilliant new backdrop which adds a whole new level to our stage appearance.

A few highlights of this one.

First, there are many shout outs for I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). So we play it early on, then of course it gets a massive call for when the encore shouts begin. And yes, we play it again.

Almost everyone here tonight came out just to see us, with one guy leaving work early in Dublin to be able to get here in time, and a few other people coming from 10 miles away and beyond.

The last time we played in here was November 5 last year, which happens to have been our first ever show. Fully six months ago. So it’s incredible for us when someone requests one of the songs we played that night – Bang Bang. Which we actually wrote entirely by accident the night before that show. They don’t call it out by name, instead saying, play that one you did without any music. Yep. That’s Bang Bang alright. Even more remarkable, we don’t even do that one anymore, or at least we haven’t done it for quite a while. So I’m sorry to report that we’re unable to meet this request for one of our own songs.

We have had this quite a bit at other shows, but it’s so cool to be able to say again, that we have people all around trying to sing along to songs they’ve never heard before. We know, because some of those songs we’ve never played in here before.

The total time for this show clocks in at 50 minutes. That’s 50 minutes of people hearing songs they’ve never heard before – apart from I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). But when we announce we’re at our last two songs, a whole bunch of disappointment is directed at us. After which, yes, we get all the encore calls.

And yes, at 50 minutes, this becomes our longest ever show, unless you count what we did at Bei Theresa in Hamburg, but really, that one just felt like a glorified rehearsal.

The hat really is getting some actual respect. We did well at The Lantern back in the middle of April and very much again here tonight. I think for the first time we’re realising we can actually make money doing exactly what we’re doing right now.

Day 77
Sunday May 15

There’s a coverband playing a mid afternoon show in the back garden of The Trap today and we go there for a really cool return as time and again we’re congratulated on our midweek show. We even get introduced to some people as the next Oasis. We’ll take that. After the coverband has finished their set, the stage at the back of the garden is left tantalisingly empty. As the DJ turns the volume up, me and Maja walk up the slightly spiralled ramp which leads to the side of the stage and basically get busy dancing all over it. After a while a few regulars come and join us. A little while after that when we think we’re done and go to walk down the ramp we’re very much told, no. You guys get back up on that stage. And so we do as Maja discovers she’s now very much the centre of attention, a role I think she’s decided she very much relishes in. When we finally do come down, I take off to the bar. When I look back, expecting to see Maja right behind me, I see she’s somewhat disappeared into a crowd of people who have welcomed her off the stage.

Day 78
Monday May 16

The Diary’s going to have a slightly different feel for a little while maybe. After a bit of a flurry of gigging activity, we’re not really trying to do much more right now than record. We don’t think anyone really wants a full blow by blow account of the studio, and it could also get quite confusing as we’re working on all the songs simultaneously; a vocal on this one, then that one, then a drum track on this one, then a bit of mixing and production over here and so on. So what we’re thinking is going track by track in here at the end of recording and maybe talking a bit about the experience of laying each one down. Most of the days we don’t write anything, assume we had our heads down in the studio, or maybe relaxing between studio days, because we really are about to get very busy in there.

Day 82
Friday May 20

Yeah. It’s kind of like this. A long and tough studio day today and we decide to go to The Trap for a quiet drink to take things in and decompress a little. We walk in and, rather than finding a chilled atmosphere we discover a full on band is playing and the place is packed. What have we missed. We quickly retreat to the street. A quick glance at our phones tells us it’s Friday. Damn. We thought it was Wednesday. It’s quite possible one of us even thought it was Tuesday.

Day 89
Friday May 27

We’ve been hitting the studio really hard for a while now and learning a lot. This is taking a lot longer than we thought it would and it’s going to take a lot longer yet. There is so much more to do and learn than we had possibly began to imagine at the start. As such we’ve been discovering that this is what it’s really all about at the moment. Learning how to use the thing – on so many levels – and, in some cases, just learning how to work together in what can at times be a bit of a pressure cooker environment where sometimes there are no right or wrong answers but where everyone has an opinion. We’re also really trying to figure out how we actually sound as a band; all this time we’ve been operating as a one acoustic guitar act, but suddenly we’re throwing bass and drums into the mix along with maybe a couple of other subtle elements. How does this rhythm section interact with us and how do we interact with it? What is this whole thing supposed to sound like? These are questions we’re wrestling with all over the place as we recruit a virtual bassist and drummer and they’re made up of the same people – me and Maja. For bass I’m playing and coming up with the parts, with Maja’s input as well. And it’s the same with the drums. We’re using midi drums for this but with real drum sounds recorded from source. It’s a big beast to tame and something Maja was working on for over a year to try to figure out. So even at what feels like an early stage in our midi drum journey, she’s already been on it a year. It’s only in this past phase of sessions that we’ve been able to work with them in a coherent way. And we’ve been doing that together. It’s been like trying to tame an enormous beast, finally getting it to bend to your command, and then trying to figure out what exactly you actually want to command it to do, while essentially still trying to work out all the details of the game.

With this and everything else it’s fair to say we’ve been getting incrementally fried, and we’re feeling done. For now.

So we’re taking a day or two totally off. Kinda. With that we take a drive to Ferbane, a village about 20 minutes away. We want to go and visit a few different places and maybe have a look at a bar or two. No hustling. Absolutely no hustling. But we may talk to some people, if you can give that another name please.

After walking up and down the peaceful roads of Ferbane we decide to go and have a look at a bar called Henneseys. It’s a decent sized front bar with a large restaurant out back and we’re able to have a quick chat with Fionulla, the manager. We’re not looking for gigs. We are NOT on the hustle. But we introduce ourselves to her anyway and she really likes the sound of what we’re doing and says yes, come back and try to organise something when you want to get onto that.

Ferbane really wasn’t that big, so now we decide to take a drive to Birr and see what that place is all about.

Well, what can we say about Birr? In population terms it’s not even twice the size of Clara and almost a third the size of Tullamore. But damn it has a lot of bars and we get a positive reaction from just about every one of them. By the time we’re done, Birr could well be our new favourite place. Who knew? We walk round the town and at pop our heads into most of the bars. Sometimes we do more than that. In a fair few of them we’re able to have a chat with a manager and one or two regulars.

In one bar we meet a customer called Speedy. He hears our pitch to the manager – we’re kinda on the hustle again, or at least introducing ourselves with intent, whatever you would call that. What can I say? We can’t help ourselves. We bump into him on the street as we’re leaving and he gives us a rundown of the bars of almost the whole town. This gives us a very good list to start with. He says it’s so great to meet people who are doing their own thing and having a go and he’s happy to do his bit to help.

I think it’s also fair to say we’re starting to develop a bit of quiet confidence in what we do. In one bar, the pitch – or whatever it is today because we are definitely not hustling – is going well and the manager says, ‘So you do a bit of everything?’ ‘No,’ I reply absolutely straight. ‘We only do our own thing.’ We get a bit of a nod of acceptance and respect from that as it goes. ‘I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a go,’ he says. Thankyou very much. We’ll be back.

And on and on it goes with people just being impressed that we’ve come here and we’re having a go at having a go and doing our own thing.

Yep. Birr. We will be back.

Day 90
Saturday May 28

Out for another countryside walk today. We head towards the larger town of Mullingar (pop: 21,000). There are a few lakes dotted about around the outer edges of this town so we quite fancy a gentle countryside stroll. We find one of the larger areas, park the car next to a beautiful good sized lake and head into the woods. However, all is not quite as calm as we were looking for. We’ve landed here bang in the centre of the local music festival and, as we’re walking around trying to enjoy nature and calm our thoughts, the air is vibrating with bass drums and electronic music. I’m quite liking the contrast in ambience but Maja is finding it just upsets what she was hoping would be a tranquil mood. ‘No,’ she says after about 20 minutes. ‘This really isn’t working. I need to get out of here.’ That’s a shame, but understood. So back in the car it is. We’re gonna go check out Mullingar and see if we think we can do any damage here.

Well yes, we do believe we can is the conclusion. Where Birr was a lot of lovely, older style traditional bars, Mullingar is very much of the times and a lot of the places feel like slick city bars. We drop into quite a few but while yesterday we hit the town in mid afternoon and all was quiet and we were able to chat to people, this time we’ve arrived early evening on a Saturday and things are quite a bit livelier. But that’s OK. We’re just on a kind of fact finding, vibe feeling mission. The vibes are good and the facts will speak for themselves when it comes time to try our hands here. For now, yes, we’re also getting a really good feel for Mullingar and have a pretty good idea of what bars we might well have a go at first when we return.

By the time we get back to Clara, the soccer Champions League final is just about to begin. Oh OK. Why not. We pop into The Trap, the decision to head there made easier by their advertisement of a barbecue out back. That will do us just nicely thankyou very much. But more than that. We get out there and discover it’s free. Yep. Free hamburgers and a great seat and table from which to be able to see the big match. A great way to conclude our two days off and two wonderful days of definitely not hustling.

Day 94 – 124
June. Just June

As the month develops we get deep into album territory. This is where we often lose track of time and declare we should take a break for a snack or something, only to discover it’s 10pm, or maybe even later. This includes one day when we decide to do a roast dinner, only to discover it’s past 11pm by the time we emerge. That’s fine. Put the oven on. We’ll do it now. Dinner comes out of the oven around 2am. Yep. This is what it’s like now. While this is the most extreme example of how things are going now, it’s also a pretty good indication of where we are. And each day when we go to bed, that night’s sleep just feels like a necessary interruption before we begin again. Sometimes not much more than a glorified nap with thoughts already deep into the next day. As soon as we wake up we know what to do and we know how we want to do it and we’re almost directly back to the studio. Yes there are days when we get smashed by tiredness or allergies or some such thing and do little more than stay in and around bed all day. But on the whole, as June rocks on and on we roll with it, you could say we’re somewhat starting to find our rhythm.

During the month, Maja has a great idea. What will become known as the ‘Now hustle.’ So far we’ve been booking shows for a week or so in advance, and then turning up on the appointed day with all our gear, to set up and play them. So far so conventional. Maja’s idea changes all this. What if we just turn up at places and offer to play them there and then? And turn up totally prepared. Which means one speaker, which we’ll carry in a backpack, bought specially for that purpose. So we take ourselves off to the biggest sports and outdoor shop in Tullamore and find exactly what she was thinking of. So now we can walk semi conspicuously into a venue with one of us carrying a guitar and the other one wearing a backpack. Who would know? Make the pitch and say we’ll play there and then. No idea how many songs we would do. Maybe 20 minutes worth? Pass the hat, pack up and then onto the next place. We have the backpack, we have the speaker, we have the guitar. And we have just about the right amount of cheek and confidence to go with all that. You know what? It might just work.

Day 125
Friday July 1

We’re up and about and I’m all ready for another day in the studio when Maja suddenly says, ‘I want to gig tonight.’

So, rather than working on the album today, we get busy seeing what a set could look like and working on that. Which means only the smashiest of smash set songs. We’re thinking of a top length of six songs per show, maybe fewer. And hoping to play at least three shows. We’re also going to have Maja on the mic, but myself unplugged. We’re not anticipating massively busy bars so we’re confident this will work. People often play acoustic and unplugged. We’re just giving Maja a bit of an extra mic boost so that she doesn’t have to blow her voice. We rehearse a bit later than intended, and then it’s time to get our gear together and leave. But we’ve never done this before so the organisation also takes a bit longer than intended. We’re not ready to leave until sometime between 6:30 and 7. Meaning we don’t even arrive in Birr until around 7:30. Way too late to make any real impact, we think, but we’ll just get started and see what we can do.

The very first bar we go into, the manager says he doesn’t feel comfortable with the concept of the hat, but he likes that we’re trying to do our own thing. The place is really busy right now so he invites us to call him later in a few days and arrange a show, for which he’ll be happy to pay us. He also says that when we do come back and play, we can sit in the corner and be something like pleasant background music. We thank him very much and leave, with no intention to call. Fair enough to everything he said, but right now for us, this is all about the hat. But also, damn. There’s no way we’re going somewhere to be background music.

We go right into the bar next door where there’s just four people in the place. But we’ve already decided we’re not going to let that put us off. Four people plus a bar staff is four people plus a bar staff to help spread the word. It all counts. The manager in here is up for it, but asks us to come back at 10 when there will be more people in here. OK. That works. First gig in the book tonight. We leave them posters and beer mats. We’re in and we’re on.

Now we head down the high street and into a bar called The Palace where we meet bar manager Nadia. She’s well into it and says we can come back and play at 9. Great.

It’s approaching eight now and we have two gigs in the book. We go nearby to a bar called Molloys where there’s just five or six people spread across the bar. Never mind. We do out pitch. ‘You’re talking about playing now?’ Asks the manager. Yep. ‘Sure, you can do that,’ he says. ‘There’s a bunch of guys out back. If they want to see what you can do, you can play for them.’ Great. We head out back and find a large concrete garden with a bunch of guys in their early 20s sitting around a big round table watching rap videos. They’re all attention as we tell then what we’d like to do and they’re well up for it. One of them goes and turns the TV off and they wait expectantly for us to start. We’re right into it with Six Sense Lover, and yes, they’re with us. We carry on through another three songs, declare we’re done and they want more. All through this, various people from the front bar have been coming out to see what’s going on. We give the boys here their encore, then produce the hat. They almost fall over each other to put into it and we’re not just talking coins either. This is a decent haul from a great start. They also give us the heads up on a few venues we should check out. Brilliant. Thanks a lot guys. We’re on it.

From here we get to The Palace quickly to see Nadia and tell her we’ll be running a little late as we have some places to check out before our show in here at 9. No problem. The first bar we were told to look at is insanely busy. The manager meets us and takes our card, but really, there’s no chance to chat and really hustle here. I leave them to it.

The next place is Kellys nearby. It’s quietish now and the manager, John, is interested but wants to see what we have to offer first. He wants to hear at least one song. ‘Go and rattle away in that corner there and we’ll see how we go,’ he says. We don’t set up the speaker. Instead, I hang back a little with the guitar and Maja stands on the corner of the L shaped bar, right in the middle of the people sitting at it and facing the bar staff. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). What else? We blast through half of it and climax at the end of the second chorus rather than going all the way to the end. This is enough. The place erupts and John says, ‘Very good. I’ll see you guys at 11.’

So that’s it. Having arrived in town a little after 7:30, we now have shows at 9, 10 and 11, and did our first one at 8. And we’ve just shown what we can do in this bar to get that show at 11. That also counts as a performance. But now we’re actually in a rush. It’s already way past nine and we have to do this next show, make it to our 10 O’Clock, then round it all off at 11.

The Palace goes so well that Nadia immediately books us again. For 11am gig for Monday, July 11. That’s eleven of the A and the M. OK.

Now we pack up as quickly as we can and take ourselves to our 10pm where we discover they’d forgotten they already had something on so we were double booked. No problem. We’ll see if we can do Kellys early. We can. It’s 10:30 by the time we get started in there so pretty close to the booked time so all good. The reaction in here is huge with two encore shouts and John, the ever so sceptical at the beginning manager almost dancing his way around the place. And again, the hat does its work, just as it did in Mollys and The Palace. Including the audition, that’s four shows around here tonight with another one booked that didn’t quite make it. And from a standing start at 7:30. Damn. And the hat has done really well for us. This is a thing now.

A big takeaway from tonight is that we have to be better organised with how we organise and carry things. A few times we were asked for cards, or wanted to give beer mats, or just give cards around a bar, and we had to scramble a bit to find them. We also found ourselves rushing to pack up a bit a couple of times, meaning we then had a bit of trouble setting up quickly at the next place. We just need to tighten ourselves up a little bit on all this. It’s all about the percentages in the details. And it’s nights like this that let you know exactly what you need to sharpen up on to pick up those percentages. On the way home as we reflect on tonight, we also conclude that four songs is pretty much optimum, with one more to be added for an encore. We also decide not to hustle any of the bars we play for future gigs. No. Instead, hit a town and move onto the next one. Otherwise we could find ourselves bouncing between towns all the time playing this or that single gig that we booked, when we could be in some new place hustling a whole bunch of gigs on the spot, just like we’ve done tonight.

Now going to try to catch last orders at The Trap. Well, we do, but we’re only just settling in when people start to ask if we could bring the guitar and carry on in here. We resist, but the requests become a clamour. OK. We’re doing this. I bring the guitar back and we do another set, totally unamplified this time with me hanging back and Maja giving it her all out front. And for the fifth time tonight we totally smash it. I think we’ll take that for a result. Just so much bigger, better and way more vast than anything we could have expected when we left the house, especially as late as we did. And yes, we’ve also brought in a lot more money than we could have imagined from doing this. People, we’ve taken totally our own songs, own vibe and our own style. And it’s happening. We are doing this.

Day 126
Saturday July 2

Just decompressing and going over yesterday. First, just an amazing experience and result. And yes, as covered yesterday, we learned a lot, not least in how we could do it with just that bit more more slickness. But we have also seen if this is viable, and yes it is. Now we know for a fact that we can go out, play shows on the spot in the way we want, and make money.

We conclude that if we can just get out there enough and continue doing what we did yesterday, we can totally make a living out of this now. And that is a big, no, huge, moment to have arrived at. But now we have to concentrate on the studio for a little while longer. Yesterday was really about satisfying that curiosity itch as to how much this could actually work. Now we know it can, we get back to work.

Day 132
Friday July 8

We decide to have another go at that instant gig/hat thing. This time we’re going to try Athlone, the second biggest town in Ireland’s midlands region. The biggest is Portlaoise, the third is Mullingar and the fourth is our own Tullamore.

After a couple of places in which the manager isn’t in and so it’s almost a waste of time to hustle, we come to The Brazen Monkey. We were deliberately heading in this direction as we’ve heard in previous visits how this was a new place that would welcome new music, and so it proves to be. And it certainly does all look brand shiny new and all refurbed. However, the manager would like to hear at least something of a song first. We do our half of Naked thing and yep. Come back at 8:30. It’s about seven now. Cool. A bit more hustling to see what else we can shake out, while having one in the book.

What follows is a slightly frustrating time with few managers being around tonight. Then we come to a bar that says yeah, sure. Go for it. Great. We start setting up, then the person who said yes comes back. Turns out that person was a supervisor, and the manager has told them no. Apparently another band has been booked and is about to arrive. I can confidently report (giving all benefit of the doubt while others may not) a band could have been booked but none arrives. We know for an absolute fact that no band arrives.

We’ve got time for one more hustle and we decide to hit a place called Vals. This is a quiet locals type bar but we checked it out a while ago, had quite a positive response and were encouraged to come and try to play should we ever return to the area. Well, here we are. We go and meet Val once more and he says that yes, absolutely. Come back at 10/10:30 and do your thing. Great. Now for The Brazen Monkey.

We arrive and the vast bar is practically empty. Oh. OK. No worries though, says Gary, the manager. There’s a big crowd coming at 9. Hold off and then you can play for them. Oh wow. Cool. We have our speaker with us for Maja’s vocals but Gary’s adamant we won’t need any amplification at all. Just do your thing, he says. But no. We mic the vocals thankyou very much. So we set up and wait.

Nine comes, and so does the promised crowd. A lot, a lot of them. Enough to totally fill the bar. It looks promising until we realise that there’s very little reaction to a live act being on. Not only very little reaction, they don’t even seem that aware that we’re here. Also, up to now we’ve been playing much smaller bars to not so many people and where you could reasonably expect to play totally unplugged. Although Maja does have a mic, which is how we’re set up in here. We get started and people around us are into it, but that doesn’t last too long – two songs at most before we realise we’re doing little more than playing to ourselves – as the people out front keep pounding the jagermeisters. They’ve just got off the boat – literally. One of those Viking type trips and they’re clearly well into their evening. I try to take the show to them and disappear into the thick crowd with the guitar while Maja continues singing from the stage. It’s like this. I can go where I want because I’m not plugged in. Maja has a lead and so can be heard, but can’t go and take on the crowd like I can. I’d like to say it’s a valiant effort on my part to do just that, but really it doesn’t work and I’m basically ignored. I get back to the stage and me and Maja agree we should do one more song and call it. That will make it four songs for this show. About standard, but we were expecting more and, after a promising start, it really didn’t take off. I must say it’s with some reluctance that I start to take the hat round. I’m met with almost incredulity. As though I’m some beggar who just wandered in off the street. Yep. So many people in here, especially those towards the back, didn’t even know anything was going on.
Hey mate

Bottle of wine and Never Dine Alone. Babble On really got us, then Without You had us dancing in the kitchen. Without You is up there with Maja’s favourite songs. Great job mate. From Maja specifically: ‘Keep going and keep strong.’ Not at all to be confused with me not wishing you to keep going and being strong. Remember: The Diaries love you.
We start to feel not so bad about this when the lady in charge of this unwieldy crowd comes up and asks to borrow Maja’s mic. Maja’s reluctant, but the lady assures her it’s just for a few seconds. It clearly isn’t, as she starts to call out a whole itinerary and then starts trying to line up some kind of game. Yep. Pretty big liberty taking. But now we see that the whole place ignores her too. We really were against it. This crowd is up for nothing but seeing how many Jagermeister shots they can do, and now I see that, it all makes sense. This is one of the most mind bending, personality altering drinks there is, and it’s all over the place. And now, as our new and unwelcome microphone friend continues to struggle against the tide, we see just how puerile this group is, as a single, unthinking group entity. All of a sudden, for no apparent reason, people start randomly bursting balloons like this is the most fun game ever. For us, the place has now become something we just need to escape from as we try to talk between us. Another balloon bursts at a painful frequency and volume. Then another, and another and another. A few more and we’re getting visibly angry, almost panicky with the ear splitting regularity of the things. The jager has taken full effect and a large group of actual adults has been turned into a bunch of follow the leader toddlers. The biggest and most fun pleasure in their lives right now being the loud bursting of balloons. Oh, this is just the best game ever. Except it really isn’t. And we’re packing gear away and so can’t even cover our ears. We get everything down as quickly as we possibly can and flee out into the still sunny street without even bothering to acknowledge or say anything to Gary. First, we just had to get out of there. Second, we feel we’ve been totally hung out to dry here, and feel even worse towards him for the insistence that we wouldn’t need any amplification at all. What the hell was he expecting us to do? Well, we’ve done it and we’re done. Off to Vals. Well, the ‘show’ we’ve just done hasn’t been as totally lost as we thought it was as a few guys want to talk to us now outside and say how much they enjoyed it. Wonderful. When they ask where we’re going next and we tell them, they ask what we’re bothering to go there for?

We’re met at Vals by a very sedate crowd. Everyone seated at the small bar. Expected. And a young family seated at the table opposite the bar. Cool. As soon as we begin, the place opens up for us and everyone’s totally into it. Especially the family and their two boys. We power through a fantastically fun and relaxed set with the whole place on our side. We really are helping to make their evening and, after our last experience, they’re making ours as they restore our faith in impromptu audiences. When we finish, Val is first to generously put into the hat. Then everyone else follows. We leave with the best wishes of the bar ringing harmoniously in our ears rather than the attack dog balloons from which we escaped the last place. Guys, that’s why we bothered to go to Vals and why we shouldn’t have bothered with your lot and that last jagermeister soaked disaster.

Day 133
Saturday July 9

We played at a place called Gussies in the nearby village of Ballycumber a few months ago. You might remember. A whole bunch of people came to see us and pay €10 for doing so shortly after. So it’s with some confidence that we return today and book ourselves in again to play tonight. We meet someone who says he’s the manager, he’d love to have us later. Eight O’Clock give or take. Great. That gives us an hour or so to go to Ferbane. We’ve decided to check out Hennesey’s, where we met the lovely Fionulla a little while ago. She’s delighted to see us when we arrive and very quickly books us for 9:30 tonight. Before we leave, she makes sure to get posters from us and to take pictures of us with them for her social media. Two shows almost immediately in. That will do us. Now off to Gussies.

We arrive and there’s someone else apparently in charge now. We go and say hello to the guy behind the bar, but before we do, he says, ‘No. You guys are no good.’ He says it with such brutal finality. Sorry? ‘I remember you. You were in here a few months ago. You were no good. It didn’t work. ‘But we spoke to someone today who said he was the manager and we booked to play here with him.’ ‘No you didn’t.’ Oh, this is fun. Fair enough. Someone was messing about. I know we’re going to get nowhere here, but I can’t let this next thing go unremarked. ‘I get that you didn’t like it,’ I begin, ‘but there were people here last time who came to see our next show. And they paid for it.’ ‘No they didn’t,’ he says. ‘Yes they did,’ I say. ‘No they didn’t,’ he says. ‘Yes they…’ actually I don’t. But he does continue. ‘You were no good.’ We’re stunned. We’re actually laughing at this guy even as we’re being rebuffed in the rudest of terms. It’s the only way to react to his unreasonable absurdity. Although this might just be his gruff friendly/ unfriendly way because in his next breath he says, ‘You might want to try Flynns down the road. They have music.’ OK. Er, thankyou. And we’re gone. We will not be returning to Gussies.

We find Flynns and the manager is hesitant. He puts it to the quiet regulars in here. Do they want us to play? They’re non committal, although one or two do give quiet voices of assent. That’s enough. We set up under a lot of bemused gazes. Then we begin. Under a lot of bemused gazes. The ones that are well mannered enough to not be bemused have their backs to us. So maybe they are bemusedly gazing, just in a different direction. Or maybe doing gazing of an even more negative kind. No way of knowing. We being the only way we think we can under such tough circumstances. With a blast of I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Gets them every time. Even when we only do the half length version, which is exactly what we do now. Nope. Nothing. Or at last not much. OK. Rock’n’Roll Tree. Again, very little. Now we hit them with another of our old faithful encore songs. How You Rock’n’Roll. When even this fails to elicit much more than an approving sigh – yes, they can sigh approvingly here apparently – we look at each other and are like, yep. We’re done. After yesterday’s embarrassment at The Brazen Monkey, I can’t face doing the hat in here. Maja says she’ll do it then. And the first guy she goes up to puts a tenner in. Wow. Did not see that coming. A few other people put in too. Coins, but hey, we’re always grateful no matter what it is. We leave with a haul of around €15. We’ve had better results, but hey, a packed Brazen Monkey yesterday yielded less. It’s with some triumph that we reach the car. We really can’t take that result in after a gig that felt so totally flat. Next.

We meet something of a similar bemusement at Henneseys, but a more familiar kind. A, ‘We’re not sure what to expect, but OK, do your thing,’ kind. It helps relax everyone that Fionnula is so welcoming, and as soon as we begin, people relax even more. Or, more than that. They’re very quickly with us. Two songs in and the experience of Ballycumber is totally washed away and drained behind us. Yes. This is very much more like it. And the hat agrees. We count it as soon as we get to the car and it’s given us the highest result from this type of gig so far.

Day 134
Sunday July 10

We take some time to really talk about and have a good look at last night and consider how we’ve done so far with all these instant hat gigs. The more we talk, the more we realise ,as long as we just do the miles, we really are now a fully, financially viable, independent proposition. With that we declare ourselves professional songwriters and performers. The huge moment just got huger.

It gets even madder when we go out for a pint in Dolans and get asked for our autographs by someone we’ve never met. And this in a pub we’ve never played.

Day 142
Monday July 18

Maja decides today is a Diary holiday. The sun is fully out, our time is ours to do what we want with it, and we’ve been using it very busily lately. So yeah. Makes sense. Also, Maja’s going to Sweden again next week for a visit so we should take these hot sunny days of summer while we can. We’re taking this one. We have a think and a look and decide we’re going to go to the seaside. We settle on a beach in Galway, get packed up and set off.

Although it’s a Monday, there’s still a very healthy attendance at the large beach we discover, but at the same time, plenty of space for us to set ourselves up wherever we want. This will be the classic beach day of reading in the sun and swimming in the sea. And what a great sea it is, full of some of the biggest waves we’ve ever seen, but just small enough to be playful and not dangerous. And play in and among them we most definitely do, along with the rest of a very joyful crowd of swimmers and wave riders. Although, with all these waves comes a tiny little bit of inconvenience in the shape of hundreds and hundreds of jellyfish. They’re spread all over the beach and they come upon us in, well, waves.

We ride the crests up and down, surf/swim, then out again. Then off for some sunbathing/reading. Then back out into the water. It’s a few hours of summer beach perfection until we declare ourselves done and head off for a drive. New destination: The cliffs of Moher.

What to say about this world famous landmark? Just that they’re so high, you can look down and see birds flying high above the sea. We’re over 200 metres above that sea at some points as we walk along the cliff edge. Well, not quite the cliff edge. Are you crazy? No. We’re safely inside the short wall, a comfortable distance away from the actual edge thankyou very much. But close enough to marvel again and again and again as we look along the seemingly endless stretch to more cliffs in the distance and even a small chain of islands. And again, with it being a Monday afternoon, we almost have this 14 kilometre long thing to ourselves as we pass very few tourists. It’s an absolute privilege to be here and we’re aware that we are in the presence of, and standing on top of, one of the true natural wonders of the world. And yep. I’ve just checked out worlds greatest cliffs, and right at the top, standing above all the others in more ways than one, is this very spot we’re standing on right now. It’s not just a walk. So many times we just stop and stare and try to take it all in. But really, that’s an impossible feat. You can never take this all in. You have have to keep trying and keep looking. Until that sad moment comes when you realise you have to go home. It’s either that or stay here forever. And believe me, that may well not be so hard to do. This truly is scenery the like of which neither of us has ever seen. With that, I’m touched with more than a tinge of guilt that I lived in Ireland for nine years way back when and never came here. Well, I’ve put that right now.

And we’re still not done as we get back in the car and head off in search of dinner. Now onto the lovely little town of Lisdoonvarna. We find a large hotel restaurant here and settle down for fish and chips while being entertained by a pretty cool and lively cover duo. But what blows me away here more than anything is that they’re playing for tips. It’s always been a given that original acts do not get paid. They can make money if people pay to see them – no upper ceiling; how big do you want your stadium? But unless you’re famous and are playing Mr millionaire’s birthday party, original acts do not actually get paid. It’s up to them to hustle. And on that, we have the hat. Cover acts on the other hand very much have a ceiling. It can get a little high, but it will never reach the stratosphere – alright, the occasional tribute act. You’ve got me. But you see what I mean. No. Cover acts get paid. Fill the diary, chuck the odd wedding in and you’ve got a nice enough full time earner. You won’t be retiring to the Caribbean in your yacht on it but if you’re able to play the game well enough, you can get by while it’s rocking. And that’s why people play covers. But for a tip jar now? That’s harsh. I’d never seen it until Hamburg, and I’ve been aware for a while that it can be common in some tip heavy cultures. But in Ireland? No. Original bands hustle – or take all the non paying gigs they can get in the hope of reaching the next level – and cover bands get paid. Original bands can strike it rich, but usually don’t, while cover bands can get by, and usually do. But here we now see the first creeping of the metaphorical hat into coverband territory. In Ireland. All of this is to say that I feel much better about the hat now. The first time we did it here we were told it wasn’t very Irish, although to be fair, we did quite well that night. On our first full hustle, the first guy we asked said he was uncomfortable with it. And to be fair, when we were contemplating it after our Berlin and Hamburg experiences, I was uncomfortable with it – still not quite got it in/on my head so to speak – and my one reservation about it being a financial way forward in Ireland was that culturally, it would not be accepted. I still can’t believe it has been totally accepted in the way that it has.

In Germany, once we became aware of the ubiquitous concept of the hat, whenever we saw a band we put in generously because, well, that’s what we were hoping people would do for us. Which could mean putting in two or three times a night because we were bar hopping, checking out venues and bands. Who would all then put a hat in front of us. And it was Germany, so we always carried cash; it’s still essentially a cash society. Now here we are, a lovely dinner in front of us after an amazing day out and we have a live act to enjoy it all to. And they really are very enjoyable. And guess what. Yep. We have no cash. Oh OK, we manage to scrabble a few coins together so that we can make it look like we’re joining in, but really, it’s not much more than appearances and solidarity between fellow hustling musicians. Sorry lads. We tried. And believe us, the intention was there.

Day 148
Sunday July 24

We decide to go to Trap just for a drink or two. As soon as we walk in we’re met with clapping and a small cheer from a section of the bar standing near the door. Now a few of those people come forwards and request a picture with us. Oh. OK. We do that and then continue checking the place out, because there’s clearly something going on out back. We walk through the bar and into the back function room which really is rocking. Just as we’re at the door and about to enter, someone comes out, see us and also requests a picture, giving his phone to a friend to do the, er, honours, I guess. Damn. This really feels like being famous.

The back bar thing is a Status Quo tribute act and they’ve really brought the crowds out tonight. General live music fans and committed fans. And Status Quo inspire a level loyalty in their fanbase that very few other bands enjoy. That loyalty is on full view here and is actually a little inspiring as the committed few work the room and pull other people up to dance. We grab a drink, find a great spot at a table in the middle of the room and get right into it, and yes, a dance or two. In an atmosphere like this, with a band this tight and into it, you really can’t not.

A few rounds in and I head into the front bar for another. Before I reach the actual bar, I’m enthusiastically introduced to a guy called Roy. Roy, I’m told, is a major promoter. He counts Dublin’s 3 Arena as one of his venues. Damn, this is the place that used to be The Point, Ireland’s biggest purpose built music venue with a capacity of 13,000. While I’m standing there, Roy is told all sorts of great things about us. Then he says to me, ‘Could you do a song or two for me in here now, or not now exactly, just some time tonight?’ I’m not entirely sure, but I’m met with something of a chorus of persuasion, so I say I’ll see what I can do. I’m not going to just get the guitar and have me and Maja do something in here without any licence at all. Not to mention the fact that she’ll want to be amplified. So I go and pull Maja out of the back room and tell her what’s just been asked and would she be up for it? Well, yeah, sure. We’ve both had a few drinks, but hey, it’s just a few songs and we know what we’re doing well enough. Let’s do it. Now to see if this can be done. Jimmy’s around and I ask him for a quick chat. I explain to him what’s going on and what we’ve been asked to do. It’s quite loud, even out here in the courtyard type area, and he’s not completely sure what I’m asking. To be fair, neither am I. His initial response is, ‘Not a chance.’ It’s not been planned and besides, there’s another band playing right now. I tell him we had no intention of this, but have an opportunity to play for a major promoter who’s specifically asked us to perform for him here and now. Jimmy ponders for a few seconds and says, ‘Yeah, but what money are you asking for?’ Money? No. Nothing. We don’t ask bars for money at all. We do the hat. But this being a kind of live audition, we might not even do that tonight. He thinks again. Whatever he says next I decide I’m going to have to have to accept because we’ve had enough of a back and forth and the volume is quite difficult to talk through. ‘Oh, OK then,’ he says. Brilliant. We’re on. I go and tell Maja, then I go into the front bar to tell Roy. He’s nowhere to be seen. But no worries, I’m told. He’s around. Just go get your gear and do your thing. OK. One impromptu instant show coming up.

By the time we’ve got back home, returned and set up, the show in the back bar is coming to an end. Word has got round that we’re about to play, and an expectant crowd is starting to form. Great. Except Roy is still not among them. He said he would be around all night and whenever we played would be fine. Well, where is he? I’m told various things. Out back, or maybe even gone to Dolans for a quick one. But we should just start, we’re told. If he doesn’t come, he can be sent a video. But that’s no good. We could have already just have given him a video link if that was the case. He wanted to see us. He asked us. Where is he? All fine, but the increasing crowd is starting to get a bit restless and really wants us to start. We say we’ll wait another ten minutes and if he doesn’t come, well, we’re all set up to play now. People clearly want a show, and so we’ll just play. But just the two or three songs, as that’s all we were planning to do, just so Roy could have a look.

Two or three songs. Yeah, right. But this is in danger of becoming like The Brazen Monkey; I have an unplugged guitar, while Maja has a microphone. I do my thing, walking among the room chugging out a few isolated chords as something of an introduction while Maja gets ready. I can immediately see this is very different to The Brazen Monkey. People are waiting. Their attention is held. They want to see us. Not slam Jager and burst balloons. We start. And it’s on. Instantly. The room is with us all the way. There’s not a single hope we’re getting out of here playing just two or three. Two or three in and it’s clear the room is just warming up. The cheers greeting the ends of our songs are enormous. Some of the reactions enter soccer jubilation territory. This is mad, and we’re just riding it. Me all over the place and Maja doing her thing from the stage. And in and among it all, our friend Cyvina is filming. We’re going to miss the end on the video because we were not expecting anything like this and my battery is not fully charged. But I can report that we get enough.

After song four or five, someone comes up to me to make a request. I tell him we only do our own songs, sorry. ‘These are all your own songs?’ he asks in incredulity. Yep. He takes a big step back and says, ‘Carry on.’ Brilliant. And so we do.

We end up playing around 40 minutes and it’s a full on sweaty affair, with the whole room involved and engaged. And here’s Jimmy, coming in for the party as well, and the two of us just rock it out when me and Maja break out our latest song – The Cat – for it’s first appearance.

When we finish, the call for an encore is absolutely irresistible. We blast into How You Rock’n’Roll. We’ve already played I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), but of course we’re not going to get away with not playing it again. Bar regular Alan is with us right at the front, being a great cheerleader and supporter, and now he turns MC. He announces to the crowd that we’re now going to play what he calls our hit. You all know it, he says. Over to us. It’s into a frenzy that we launch our final song and our second encore. And when it’s all over, Cyvina comes up to us and in some jubilation presents us with our hat. Oh wow. She’s already taken it upon herself to do the hat. And it’s full. People really have gotten into the spirit of it and very generously put in. By far our biggest ever take. And for a show we had absolutely no idea of when we came in here tonight. It’s fair to say it’s up there with the very best we’ve done, and certainly the most vociferously received. Although yes, Laksmi in Berlin still holds its very special place in our memories. But tonight? Oh wow. Just the size of it. The full show-ness of it. The hat result. The expectation. Yes, this was a big one. But Roy is still nowhere to be seen. As far as we’re aware, he missed it all.

And here’s a part of what he missed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xhjg2Wp0I8&t=29s

Day 149
Monday July 25

The owner of our local music shop in Tullamore recommended a specific guitar for us a while back, one that he was just starting to get in. He has a really good feel for our sound and totally understands what kinds of demands our hard hitting, low tuning and high energy performances place on a guitar. This is a monster of a guitar from Tanglewood and we go in today to have a look at it. He says it can handle low end better than just about anything in the price range, has a larger, stronger body, and can be extra reinforced just for us. It’s a Harry Potter wand moment. As soon as we take it off the wall, it already feels like ours. And I don’t need to play it for more than a few seconds to confirm that fact. It has a sound and feel unlike anything I’ve ever experienced from an acoustic. Just enormous. Huge action – meaning the strings are set high above the fretboard. But that’s fine. The way we play, we really need that extra room for string vibration.

Day 151
Wednesday July 27

Maja leaves for Sweden today. The plan now is that I will have a couple of weeks to really hit the studio, rerecording all the guitar parts with the new guitar. Then the bass down, then onto the drums. Basically to get as much as I can of the backing tracks down. We’ve decided to take advantage of Maja’s Sweden trip for a brief European tour because, get this, she’s driving there from here, then driving all the way back again. So, we decided, why not come back together, hitting a few different countries on the way? And we decided to begin that together bit in Berlin, sometime in the second week of August. Then after Berlin we’ll play it as we go, hitting another country or hopefully two, before returning to Ireland on August 24 through France.

Day 152
Thursday July 28

My studio stuff doesn’t quite work out as planned. The day Maja leaves I get sick. And stay sick for a little over a week. I do manage to get some studio time in when I’ve recovered, but not as much as I was hoping for. During this period we decide to head to Berlin on August 11 by which time I’ve at least managed to get all my guitar parts in.

Day 158
Wednesday August 3

A message comes from Maja to tell me that she’s bought the equipment we need to go wireless, something we’ve been discussing lately. Now she’s gone and actually sorted it out. Just brilliant. Another step forwards in our presentation. We’ll be trying this out for the first time when we play the first show of our next European tour.

Day 161
Saturday August 6

Recovering from being sick and just kind of meandering to take off, while getting back into the studio and really getting those double tracked guitars down. Then my phone pings. It’s a guy saying he works with Roy and that Roy would like to meet us. I Text back and say that Maja’s not in Clara right now and that we’re going on tour soon, but I’m around. Great, comes the message back. If you’d like to meet, Roy’s in Dolans right now and he’d like to talk to you. Oh. Oh. OK. So I take myself off to Dolans, and on the way I get another text telling me exactly where he is in there. Fine. And yep, I do find him. It’s a good job I was told where he was actually, over by the side next to the fireplace. Because the place is packed. Of course it is. It’s Saturday night.
He’s a bit surprised and confused when I go and say hi and that I understand he wanted to see me. I’m now confused that he’s confused, and I show him the text communications I’ve had in the past half hour or so. ‘Oh, that’s just someone in here playing silly beggars,’ he says. I’m confused even more. ‘I do want to talk to you as it happens, but this is someone just trying to insert themselves into the deal.’ The deal? What the hell? Roy continues. ‘Look, I was planning on calling you,’ and he pulls out our card from his top pocket. Right there in his pocket. He immediately tells me to forget whoever was texting me, and I never do find out who it was. But it looks like someone got wind that Roy was interested in working with us and decided to, as he says, insert themselves into the deal as a middleman. What the hell? People are inserting themselves into potential deals involving us now? Apparently. ‘So you did see us?’ I ask. ‘I did. I kept myself at the back, but I saw alright. Then a few days later I saw a bit more on some videos I was sent.’ Oh, again. OK. ‘Look,’ Roy continues, ‘I know Maja’s away…’ He knows? ‘When is she getting back?’ ‘Well, she isn’t,’ I begin. ‘Well, she is, but I’m meeting her before then. In Berlin in a few days, and then we’re going on tour for a few weeks.’ ‘Great. And you’re back when?’ ‘August 23rd. So, last week in August.’ ‘Cool,’ Roy says. ‘When you get back, give me a call and we’ll see about starting to get some gigs arranged. You’d be looking at something in the €500 region. Sound good?’ This is mad, but I don’t blink. ‘Yeah, but you do know we only play originals right?’ ‘I do.’ ‘Great then. I’ll let you get back to it and I’ll be in touch.’ ‘Do that.’ We shake hands and I’m out of there, his number on a piece of paper he’s just written on for me. I go across the road to The Trap, get a beer, go in the back garden and get in touch with Maja.

‘You’ll never guess what’s just happened.’

As we discuss this, now and in the next few days, we decide this is even bigger than getting the fabled record deal. We talk about that thing when bands have this or that label interested in them, or maybe when a new band gets signed and it’s all go for them, but a record deal could still go all kinds of ways south. This is much more than that as far as we’re concerned. This is what looks like a major promoter looking to get involved and to throw us straight in. Record deals. For a start, what does that even mean today? No, this is getting in with someone offering gigs, very well paying ones right from the off, and with a line to The 3 Arena. The Point. Ireland’s biggest music venue. We have no idea what to imagine. Support gigs with major artists? Probably some smaller gigs to start at smaller venues to see how we get on. Surely not straight to the arena. I’m guessing we’d have to really earn our stripes first. But he’s talking real money straight from the off. What kind of gigs would they be? Not basic pub gigs, that’s for sure. Not at €500 for a new original band. And what kind of new original band gets €500 a gig? What kind of gig even pays that for an original act? But even forgetting the money, with no idea how regular those kinds of gigs would be, this really does look like a potential line to really getting this thing started. We conclude that our job now is to sharpen ourselves up with a solid series of gigs in Europe, then get back and make the call.

Could this really be it? Or whatever that ‘it’ thing is?

The Second European Tour Diary, days one to twelve

Day one
Thursday August 11

The second European tour starts today for me at sometime just before 5am as I’m up and then out to catch the first train from Clara to Dublin. 5:35am. First it’s a Dublin flight to Hamburg. There’s no taking in of the familiar Hamburg sights as it’s bus from the airport to the bus station. And from there a bus to Berlin where Maja will be waiting, having arrived sometime late afternoon. While the last tour eventually only took in Berlin and Hamburg, after we had to retreat, first due to Covid, then the war in the east, this time we really do think we’ll get to at least a few countries. However, in that last one, we at least managed to also stay in two places in Sweden before playing a show aboard a ferry between France and Ireland. So technically still a European tour, right?

This time round we’ve decided to give camping a go as it could be a cheaper alternative to hostels and hotels, and may well be a fun addition to the experience. Here I should probably mention the conclusion of our last stay here. We’d been hoping to have some sort of accommodation sorted out with Lenny, the manager of Fargo who said he’d be happy to look after us should we ever return to Berlin. Well, here we are, but the timing just hasn’t worked out. When we got in touch with him to say we would be on our way in a week or so, he came back to say that he was away this week and beyond, so we had to make our own arrangements. And here we are.

I land in Charlottenburg, Berlin at 5:30pm, having left the house almost exactly 12 hours earlier. Now to go and find, not just Maja, but also her friend Adrian who is travelling around Europe and has planned it so that he’s able to connect with us in Berlin. They’re at a camp site somewhere in the outer west district of the city, not too far from where I am now. I won’t pretend it’s easy to find the place. It really isn’t, and I’m not helped by the glorious clear blue sky and bright sun, which would normally be wonderful and welcome, but which mean today that I’m often totally unable to see my phone screen, and so am often not able to read my map screen. Which means I have a really healthy and bracing walk in the wrong direction so many times. When I finally get within hearing distance of them – literally – I discover I’ve come to a river with the nearest crossing about three or four hundred metres away, which means three or four hundred metres all the way back on the other side. Then I still have to negotiate a complicated industrial type complex, all the while somehow trying to communicate to Maja exactly where I am so that she can come and meet me. We finally make it, and this weary traveller wanders into camp. Seriously, if I’d discovered one more wrong turn I would have been thinking, screw the correct entrance, and I would have been starting to climb fences.

After Maja, it’s an emotional reunion with Adrian, whose Malmo apartment we stayed in during the hiatus of our first European tour back in December, when returning Covid restrictions all over Europe forced us to retreat to Sweden.

Oh wow, this is the welcome beers of all welcome beers as Maja has led me to the wonderful outdoor bar of the campsite, which also, very mercifully, does food. All my road dust is shaken off and the three of us now totally relax and catch up by the river which was so clearly mocking me in that last exhausted leg of my journey. As the bar closes, we finish up and Adrian leaves us for his hotel. We will be seeing him again tomorrow. In the meantime, we’re off to our first night of camping. Let’s see how this goes.

Day two
Friday August 12

First thing in the morning, Maja books us into a hostel. Nope. Not staying here. No how, no way. For a start, we’ve discovered there are just so many hidden charges. It’s advertised as a really good, cheap alternative and the prices do look very attractive. Until you get here and reality kicks in. Even a charge for parking. It’s a campsite. Way outside the main city. With caravans and large tents. Of course you’re driving. The charges mount up so much that by the time they’re all added up, you can get a lovely warm bed in at least a hostel, with probably a bathroom and toilet across the hall, hell, in your room if you’re lucky. And there won’t be sand all over the place. Oh yes. The sand. When you think of camping, you think of being in a wonderful field or meadow. Here, they’ve just plonked us in what looks more like a carpark. Oh damn, I can’t imagine what it would be like if it was raining and all that sand and dirt around us just turned to mud. No. Just no. And, kind of by definition, it’s really far away from anywhere we can play gigs in. Driving to the city everyday with all our gear then just having it with us until it was time to drive back here? No thankyou very much. The idea of making it camping was all good and noble, and may well be somewhere else in the future. But here? Absolutely no way. Maja gets on it and finds Isas Hostel on the corner of Templehofer field, just south of the main city.

We’re shown to a no frills but perfectly large and comfortable six bed-room. Three bunk beds. And the luxury of our own fridge, or at least a fridge to share with potential room mates as we’re the only ones here right now. The hostel we’ve found is as cheap and cheerful a place as you could imagine. Cheap at the price and totally cheap looking, but also totally good enough for our kind of stay with better showers than we’ve encountered at some much more expensive places; a shower can be a dealbreaker for me, so I’ll always take a good shower over nice furniture and pretty carpets thankyou very much. We have zero complaints and the staff are wonderfully friendly and helpful. A special shoutout to the cleaner, Fatma. It’s in a really cool and busy district, so everything you could want for easy shopping and eating, and very well connected for public transport. And all for about the same price as that ridiculously overpriced and horrendous campsite we’ve just left.

I’ll let you know now. We’re here for six days and, with just a few overnight companions – all of whom prove to be lovely, some of whom we don’t even see awake – we mostly feel like we have the place to ourselves. Which, as things work out, is just as well.

Out in the evening to meet up with Adrian who’s going to accompany us on our hustle tonight. Oh, Berlin, Berlin. Here we come.

We know exactly where we’re going. We’re heading directly and deeply into Neukolln. This is an area we’d earmarked as a happy hunting ground before our first visit here and so it proved to be. Almost. Back then, in late December 2020, Covid restrictions were beginning again, but we were also discovering that Berlin practically closed in the runup to Christmas. So we pitched to a lot of managers who loved what we were offering, but said the time wasn’t, but please come back if and when you’re in town again. That’s exactly what we’re doing now, but it’s one of those nights when there are no managers around and all our pitches continually fall on unable ears. Yeah. They all just fall. Instead of the friendly, semi familiar faces we were expecting to be greeted with, all we can find are young, left in charge bar staff who have never seen us before and, in any case, can’t authorise what we’re here to do. I can sense Adrian’s frustration, and perhaps, embarrassment for us when, after another knockback, he asks what our strike rate is. I keep my mood upbeat as I tell him it can be one in four, or one in five. But really, if the boss isn’t in when you show up, and no-one there feels they can make a decision like this, there’s nothing you can do, no matter how good your act or your pitch for it. Very occasionally, a supervisor may take it upon themselves to say yes, but once someone says the boss isn’t here so theyI don’t know, there’s absolutely nothing you can do to make it happen there and then.

We’re Six bars in now and we also spent quite a bit of time walking to this area. We’re carrying a speaker, the guitar and our bag of accessories. It’s not a huge amount, but try a long walk with this lot and after a while you really do start to feel it. We’ve been walking for a while. We decide now that for any future hustles, we’re going to identify the target area and just get public transport there. Walking to an area with our gear is just wasted energy. We actually carried more stuff on our gigs last time, but we weren’t doing the now hustle then. Instead, we walked round unhindered to hustle gigs for some later date, then when we returned to a venue who’d taken us, all our stuff was on trollies, so the walking wasn’t as hard as it’s proving now.

Once more, Adrian waits outside while we enter a bar called Palermo. There’s a whole bunch of people sitting outside, and two or three people inside what is a single square space of a bar. Perfect for gigging. I ask the guy polishing glasses if he’s the manager. He is. I give my pitch, and he says, ‘Of course.’ That’s how it goes. When it’s hard, it’s hard. Then you come across a person like this, it suddenly becomes the easiest job in the world and you wonder what all the fuss was about. I run outside and tell a clearly relieved Adrian, ‘We’re in.’ I think, more than anything, he’s relieved for us, that we’ve finally been able to show him that we can come through. That this thing can be done. Now to actually do it.

This will be our first ever wireless gig and we set the speaker up by the large, fully open window, meaning it will also be heard out on the street. There’s some gentle expectation as we count off our first song, and we’re off. The tour is on. First date, Bar Palermo, Nansenstraße 31. Time, 9pm.

As soon as we start, the people are with us and Tomas, the manager, is looking upon us very approvingly as he rocks along. Now Maja does something she’s never done before. She goes outside and starts working the tables on the street. As she does so, I stay inside and dominate the bar, playing from the very centre of the floor to the very few people who are in here and who are really getting into it now. A little while on and we swap places with Maja coming inside as I go outside and start to rock the songs up and down the little strip of street of tables. Then we’re both outside, but again, in different places as Maja plays for that table, I play for this one, then we come together in the middle, then we’re up and down together, then separating again to spread ourselves all over. One in, one out, and change it round again. It’s a total, in the round, fully interactive show. The people love it and Adrian is just mesmerised, delighted at what we’ve become right before his eyes. The performance is one thing, but we can see that the songs themselves are really hitting too. And afterwards, after we’ve also satisfied the punters with the demanded encore, the hat does its thing and agrees that we have in fact been loved in here tonight. After such a faltering start, it is a totally triumphant return to Berlin, but witnessed by just a handful of people. But that’s what now hustling bar gigs is all about. Just a few people at a time, a few times a night. And add up those numbers.

However, it’s already been a trek to get here, we’re all a bit tired, Adrian’s been dragged round long enough. He’s seen how it’s done now, seen us in in action, the action has been fantastically successful and we agree we should take this as a result. We call it a day for hustling. It just so happens we’ve walked pretty much all the way through Neukolln and now find ourselves not too far away from Fargo. Perfect. Where else would we want to go right now?

Day three
Saturday August 13

We’re really slow to be up and in any kind of ready today. But as we do, Maja declares she’s still really run down and tired and just not up for hustling. That’s absolutely fine and totally understandable. We just meet up with Adrian when we’re ready to go out later on, and it’s just a wonderful Berlin hang.

Day four
Sunday August 14

Maja’s really tired again, so once again we call off the hustle. But Sunday Slip at one of our favourite Berlin venues, Zum Krokodil, is on tonight so we can at least manage that. This is a really cool little twist on the open mic format. Hosts Wynton and Liliana give it much more of an event feel with Liliana performing her wonderful stand-up and Wynton doing his freeform jazz/looper thing. Both remember us from last time and we’re enthusiastically welcomed when we arrive.

Their thing is all presented as a kind of ad hoc cabaret show, complete with theme music for the two halves, and just really slick stage organisation and full introductions to each act. Most of which are stand-up comedy performers. Musicians, poets, and anyone else with something to show off on a stage are also welcome so we fit right in here. And we have a little twist on our own act tonight. We’ve finally decided the time has come to do our random show, which is to write our songs down on a piece of paper and put them in a glass for audience members to pick out to decide which songs we’re going to play. Well, we say audience members, but we end up presenting the glass to Wynton everytime, but that’s all fine. It still turns out to be as random as it could possibly be. The first song picked out is Freefall, something I don’t think we would ever have thought of to introduce ourselves to an open mic as it start so gently, but really, why not? And isn’t this the point of the random glass? It really does force us into situations we wouldn’t have chosen ourselves, and also makes us see how the songs can perform in circumstances we wouldn’t necessarily think of for them. We’re wireless now, and we begin our performance taking full advantage of that fact. To the side of the stage is a corridor running up the side of the venue. So you can go down that and emerge at the back of the audience. I do that now and we start with Maja on stage on her own and me behind everyone. I hit the first chord and Maja begins to sing. The audience is transfixed immediately, but also confused, as people start to look around, and then seem to conclude that she’s singing to a backing track. But as the song develops, I make my way through the tables and see the surprised expressions on people’s faces of, ‘Oh, this is what’s going on.’ I time it so that I climb up onto the stage right as the chorus kicks in, and this gets our first vocal reaction of the night from the audience. We’re on. After Freefall, Wynton pulls out Nobody Said. This is a particular surprise to us because we haven’t played it for ages, and damn it’s a heavy song. Then we’re stunned when he picks out our actual heaviest song to follow it up with: My Game, My Rules. This is a big ask, but it means we perform a three song set going from our lightest to our heaviest side. And if last night rocked, tonight smashes. Adrian now sees what we can do to a crowd that is actually already up for and expecting original music, as well as what we can do when we have a full venue and a big stage to have a run at. He’s left reeling at the experience, and if the other night gave him a taster of what we’re all about, after tonight, he totally, fully gets it.

Here’s the full thing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooka97gxLTA&t=2s

Day five
Monday August 15

Last night was great, but it’s beginning to look like Berlin really isn’t going to happen for us this time. Maja is just totally run down and probably sick. We’re barely even leaving our room at this stage.

Day six
Tuesday August 16

We resign ourselves to the fact that nothing musical is happening for us today either. But with this now being our last two days in Berlin, there is one little thing we can and must do, and that is to go and have a look at Templehofer Field. We can’t not go and have a look at Templehofer Field. This is a huge airfield which is now a public park, bigger in area than Hampstead Heath. But unlike Hampstead Heath, one of my favourite places in London, you can take this field in all in one go. It’s just one enormous, flat space and also a major piece of history. For a start, this was the airfield used during the Berlin blockade during 1948/49 when a plane landed every 90 seconds bringing supplies for a Berlin essentially under siege. Having been closed as an airport and then, in 2010 opened as a public space, it is now the largest inner city open space in the world. And oh, it looks like it. An enormous expanse unlike any I’ve ever seen, and it feels surreal to walk through it on an actual runway. In what is actually an open air museum complete with the kinds of historical story boards found in museums. We spend an hour or so in the wonderful sun having a gentle wander around the place. Then, happy that we have now managed to see this attraction right on our doorstep, we head back to the hostel.

Day seven
Wednesday August 17

Maja’s feeling much better today and, for the first time feels like going out and doing stuff. This will be our last day in Berlin as we plan to leave for The Hague tomorrow, then possibly Anwerp after that.

There’s going to be no hustle tonight though. Today’s the day of the open mic at Laksmi and this has been top of our return list since arriving. Our experience there during our last Berlin visit remains one of our favourite ever performances and nights. The place went mad for us that night and then, as the event ended, the evening just went on and on and we felt pretty much the centre of it. So yes, we have particularly high hopes for tonight. But before we take that on, we want to have at least one real look at Berlin in the summer, having experienced it a bit in the winter. We’re going to make a return to the Brandenburg Gate and Checkpoint Charlie. A very different feeling walking up to and through these places in the summer, wearing T-shirts rather than full on winter clothing. But we did well in December and never really felt uncomfortable walking around. It is really hot today and Maja says it possibly felt better in the winter. That’s the Swedish northern-ness in her. I’ll take summer anytime. But yes, like everywhere really, there is a very real contrast. The most expressive change, I guess, is that this time the outdoor bars are open, including an artificial beach type bar near Checkpoint Charlie. A large courtyard type place surrounded by bars and foodstalls. Of course we go in and take a beer or two in the sun.

After a lovely summer daytrip, we return to the hostel for a little bit of a rehearsal, then take ourselves out to Laksmi. We’ve really been excited about our return here as it generated in us a kind of instant nostalgia. So it’s very special to walk back here again, to the so called Red Bar. The last time we were here, we were told by host Moves Johnson, that it was the best bar in Berlin. It may well actually be. It manages to be both intimate and large at the same time, with a mid sized bar area at the front, supplemented by something of an offshoot area to the left as you walk in. There’s a raised seating area down the opposite wall to the bar, then at the back, the place extends to a whole other area of seating, almost separate from the venue, but still with sight and sound access. And for open mics, while Zum Krokodil has the large stage and great sound, this place has wonderful intimacy. Both places have audiences eager to hear something new, but Laksmi just takes it for atmosphere as far as we’re concerned, probably because of its smaller size which makes an audience feel that much bigger. It’s also totally unplugged, which could be a handicap, but like Krokodil, the people in here really do and the sound effortlessly carries all the way to the back, which is where we end up sitting because the place is already packed by the time we arrive.

As soon as we do, we see Moves. We have a wonderfully high energy catchup. We’ve been chatting with him online a little while we’ve been here, and we’ve been seeing his little flyers all over town. We even sent him a picture of us standing in front of one on our first night here. He’s only too happy to enthusiastically introduce to the host David, and offer his solid endorsement. David’s very interested to meet us as he’s already heard of and is aware of us. Moves says he still talks about us since our first show here, and it seems other people around know of The Diaries. Going forwards a little bit, there is certainly some air of anticipation when the time comes for us to be called to the stage. As for what happens when we get there, we’ll jump around a touch more here. Our plan was to ask Moves if he wanted to hear I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) again, or if he would like to hear more songs. Within a few minutes of chatting, he totally pre-empts us with, ‘I really hope you guys play I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Whenever I tell people about you, I talk about that song.’ This is how we find out we’re still being talked about in this significant corner of Europe, and how we settle the question about whether we should play it tonight or not.

We would like to stay at the front and hang out with the guys, but there really is no room, so we head to the back area and find the last two seats together out there. We’re settled and ready for the show.

We get called up five or six acts in. This venue really, is where we first developed our act of just playing in and around an audience rather than on a stage. It was the unplugged nature of it that led us to the thought of just moving around and playing everywhere. Also, with Maja not confident of singing too loudly at the time, this moving around allowed the guitar to be further away from her and so she was able to be heard without having to sing too loud. Since then, and now especially with our new wireless gear, we’ve really developed into this as being a thing and a whole way of performing as far as we’re concerned. Now we totally break it out here, with Maja going up to the stage and me hanging a little back so that I’m more in the centre of the crowd, in the walkway between the bar and the raised seating area.

Maja’s standing, imperious, looking over the heads of everyone. And I’m down on the floor and the air is silent. It feels like there are only the two of us as I look up and say, ‘Are you ready?’ ‘Yes.’ I count it in and we’re off. And the atmosphere in the bar lifts, and keeps lifting as the song builds, and falls, and builds again. Along the way, people look as though they’re on a rollercoaster ride as they at times seem to be almost pushed backwards and then forwards and then side to side as they propel themselves along to our own pulsating energy. And it’s hot in here. Seriously hot. We’ve been sweating just watching the thing. Now sweat is almost flying off of us, adding to the steaming drama of the moment with Maja leaving the stage and stamping her authority all over the place. The whole time I’m powering along behind her, all animal, soaking wet energy. All the way to the climax and the place goes totally wild as we finish. Before they’ve even quietened down, we’re on it again with the percussive intro to Six Sense Lover. Oh, they’re with us now, as if they ever weren’t. This is our room, this is our crowd. When we hit the thunderous final act of the song, the whole place looks like they’ve just been tipped over the edge of the top of the rollercoaster and we see them, all but waving their hands in the air as it powers down, G force increasing all the way. And we’re in the middle of it, making it all happen. Scream for me. Scream. Screaeaeam. Final, explosive hits on the guitar to conclude our final show for this visit to Berlin.

And yes, they most definitely do.

After that, well, it feels like we’re the only people in the room. We receive the congratulations of the bar staff as we’re awarded our free beers for performing, and we take them outside. Because, after a performance like that, in this heat, an ice cold beer outside is simply the only thing that will do.

When we return, just like last time, we feel like the centre of attention for the rest of the night. That night goes on for quite a long time. By the time it’s all over and we’ve said our goodbyes, being demanded, and promising to return, we don’t get back to our hostel until sometime approaching 4am. And we’re up kind of earlyish in the morning. First, we’ve got to make the check-out time of 11, then we’re off for a seven or eight hour drive for European tour leg two. We’re off The Hague in Holland.

Day seven
Thursday August 18

For the next two nights as we tackle The Hague, we’re staying with a friend to whom I’ll give Diary privacy. The approach to this coastal city is spectacular as you drive straight at the tall buildings, speed quickly through them without breaking stride, then down in a tunnel and on your way to your destination. Brilliantly effective, a fantastic virtual welcome, and as different as it could possibly be from driving through gridlock in London. Which is why that city has the M25 and the North and South Circulars. Don’t ever try to drive through central London on your way to somewhere else.

When we talk about our plans of the now hustle and the hat, we’re immediately told one thing. Forget it. It won’t happen here. No-one can get gigs here just like that, and even if they do, no-one will even consider putting into the hat. It’s basically a full on attempt to talk us out of it. Well meaning, and very much what we heard – quite aggressively at times – when we first spoke about trying this in Ireland. Politely – kinda – I shut it down. Thankyou, but we’re doing this – this may come out a little sterner and full-stoppy than I intend. We’ll get gigs or we won’t. People will put in or they won’t. Simple. With that the conversation ends.

Day eight
Friday August 19

Maybe also get a bit more feel of the city in after watching this as a reminder
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4CZtSILLuE

Shall we go straight to it? Shall we? After all the warnings and doom, and no-one I know could do anything like this, so don’t even try?

Oh alright, we will.

Our easiest and most successful ever hustle, and the most the hat has pulled in in a day. And we called that day at 8pm after having played four times. Yep. We’d played four times, money each time, by 8pm. Two bars asked and three bars played. We’ll get to that. As for the fourth one, we’ll get to that too. By nine we were back with our friend in a bar and yeah, we were quite vocal about what we’d done. In all fairness, he held his hands up and admitted he was wrong. In another all fairness, I’ll venture to say that he wasn’t actually wrong. It couldn’t be done. By anyone he knew. But we could do it. Either that or his friends hadn’t tried hard enough.

By four in the afternoon we think it’s time to get out and get this thing started. Into the city, it’s a wonderfully sunny day and we’re walking through the spectacular main plaza. Maja sees a couple of girls coming towards us pushing a trolley full of boxes of beer bottles. She’s on it as soon as our paths intersect. ‘Hi girls, where are you going?’ They could have been taking this lot to a bar, but no, they’re off to a party which they’re clearly taking responsibility for. Maja gives them cards, introduces us, saying we’ve just arrived here from Berlin on our European tours, and offers to come with them saying says we could play for them and their guests. I hang back and leave the three of them to be girls talking among girls. It’s a fun watch. Who knows where an afternoon and evening like this could lead? If they say yes. For the girls, and for us, this is a bit of a sliding door moment. They do seem to give it some consideration. They talk to each other, saying what, we have no idea, and they’re clearly taken by Maja. They’re intrigued and part of them seems to want to say yes, but probably, understandably, they don’t want to take responsibility for bringing strangers into the midst of their friends, who are then going to play who knows what, and it doesn’t quite work. No. They are not ready to make that kind of commitment for two people they just met on the street. It’s with some considerable good nature that they say thankyou, but no. Maja’s done her best and decides it’s best not to push. Lovely to meet you girls. Have a great party and we may see you around.

After this fun and very close encounter, we set ourselves up with an early evening dinner at a cheap and cheerful enough Chinese restaurant. Nothing fancy at all, felt more like a cafe. We leave and find ourselves back on the street quite full and thinking it could be a good idea to walk around just a little, and not try to play straight away. So we’re not hustling right now. Not quite yet. We are definitely not hustling. We start to make our way down the street, but we’re spotted immediately by people sitting outside a bar directly opposite the restaurant/cafe we’ve just emerged from. They see our guitar and beckon us, playing air guitar to indicate their interest. Come, come. Oh, OK then. We go and they enthusiastically gesture that we should go inside. The windows here are wide open, so they will hear anything that happens in there. We go inside. It’s quite busy, but the place just starts to open up before us and a clear path opens up between us and the bar. You play, you play. Variations on this are being heard all around as smiling faces and expressive hands indicate us to the bar manager right at the back, who as yet still seems oblivious to what is happening. By the time we reach him he’s turned to face us and the clamour from his bar that we play. Poor guy. He doesn’t stand a chance. The decision has very much been made for him. As for me, I barely begin my pitch when he puffs out his cheeks in friendliness and says, ‘Of course.’ What else? He indicates us to a spot by the wall, but very central and says, ‘Please.’ Brilliant. First bar, first show. We definitely did not hustle. But we do now as we go round the bar giving cards and beermats and generally introducing ourselves.

And yes, they really go for it. All originals, all in English, and we’ve got the people in here bouncing, stamping their feet, clapping along, at times trying to sing. Then when it’s all over after five songs, the hat puts in a solid shift, and we get pulled this way and that to pose in photographs. And the manager comes over to smile, say well done, put some money in the hat, and then give us some advice that we really should also try to add a few covers so that, you know, people can hear a song or two that they know. We smile and say thanks for the advice. Has he not just seen what we’ve done without covers thankyou very much? Well, he put in, so he does have some idea. I think in some corners of thinking, even when we appear to have entered those very corners of thinking, this thing we do still doesn’t quite compute. But you have to do covers. No-one walks into a bar they’ve never been to – and in a new country at that – and belts out a bunch of their own songs and makes money. No-one. Maybe he’s right. Maybe they don’t. But we do. It all happened so quickly we didn’t even get the name of the place. We do now. De Waag.

It’s 6pm and we’re already down one very near missed party and one show. By 6:30, we’re starting another show in Caseys, a large Irish bar. If you don’t count the girls, this is two gigs in two hustles, and really that last one doesn’t even count as a hustle. It’s more us that were hustled there. We’ve actually come here at the recommendation of those girls and the place really does stand out. Once inside, we spoke to the bar supervisor, who told us that Joseph, who organised the music, was around and available. Joseph came, and as soon as we did our pitch, said, ‘Set up wherever you want and go for it.’ This place is much longer than it is wide, so we set up our speaker by the bar, which runs about halfway along it, with a step down to the back level. Opposite the bar is an open wooden flight of steps up to a currently closed extra bar, and from where Joseph came to say hello. He has business to see to, so unfortunately he’s not able to stick around and see how we get on.

Which is essentially very well, if quite hard work and a little lonely at times. The place really is enormous, with the few customers in here right now spread all the way left and right, and very few people in the middle. We really work the whole area, but we feel spread too thin ourselves this way, but a big impression is still made. Not least when we ascend the staircase and perform, looking far down on everyone, and see that at least a good amount of people in here are looking up. It’s a strange, very disjointed show, purely because of how much space we feel we have to cover to connect with everyone. But while you’re connecting with that table over there, you’re far away from that bunch of tables all the way over there and so on. And when I go to one area and Maja’s all the way over the other area, it’s an impressing dynamic I’m sure, while making it quite hard to be dynamic.

But the hat tells us that people are at least on our side, even as we decided to cut it short after three songs, feeling the room slowly slip away from us after such a strong start, and fearing we could lose it altogether with a fourth song. However, even now, a few people voice disappointment that we’ve finished so soon. And when I go to the raised seating section just by the front door, I’m met very positively both financially and personally and am assured by a few people there that they will help put the word out on us. That really, is everything a tour is about. Getting your own word out there and hoping the people you play for will take it up and put more of it out themselves.

As we walk away from this venue, having played five songs at the first place and three just now, we conclude that, with this kind of hustle, four songs is optimum. Go in with a target of four, pull out at three if it really isn’t working, or is showing signs of maybe testing limits as we felt just now. And then, if shouts come for more, chuck in a fifth. With that, we feel we’ve just consolidated and confirmed exactly how we should be doing this.

Now we hit the backstreets with no destination in mind, until we’re gestured, De Waag like, into a place called Bar T’Achterom. Again, it’s the people sitting outside who see us and beckon us over. The bar manager, Dave, sees this and as soon as we go over to him, indicates that yes, we should play if we want to, as he also indicates there aren’t many people in here. Indeed there aren’t. This is one of those places that looks like a bar/small nightclub. The kind of speckled black floor area, and stage like area at the back which we will not be using. Instead, we’ll set up here at the front where there is one table of people inside near the fully open window, and a few tables of people outside. All seem eager and encouraging, and Dave himself, before hearing a note, offers us a beer. We’re very happy to accept as we set up and get this thing going. And it may well be the smallest and most intimate of places we’ve played today, but it’s our biggest reception and we do indeed get to play that fifth song. And even a sixth as they really do want to hear more and more. Two encores. But we’re not done here yet. As I’m finishing up the hat outside, a few people arrive at the place. They’ve heard something as they were coming down the street and now they’re hearing enthusiastic reports about what we’ve just done here, out of nothing. The lead guy of the new group would like us to continue, but we really are finished. It wouldn’t be right to fire up again. But he has more to say. ‘I will give you 20 euro,’ he says, ‘If you would come out onto the street and play a song for my wife.’ You cannot turn that down, and it’s all in such good nature and in such a good vibe, that yes of course. We’re on our way. So, unplugged, we head out onto the street and down a little way from the bar. He pays us before we even start, and then we launch into I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) just for the benefit of his wife, even as the whole corner of the street stops with people taking in our performance. Some staff and managers even emerge from a few bars to see our street stopping performance, even as we continue to play for just one person who yes, films the whole thing as her personal memento.

We finish to applause and cheers from the full street, and hugs of gratitude from our private audience. It’s only 8pm. We’ve played four times and if we want to, could continue hustling and play three or four more; we could probably jump right into one of those corner bars right now as we’re told one of the people watching us from there was a manager. We’re assured he would be most welcoming if we decided to make the first move. But we feel done and maybe we should join our host for a beer at some point before it gets too late. Before all that, we decide to take our own break from a very successful and busy day. Another round please Dave. Then we take a table outside and hang and chat with the locals, while toasting to a fantastic day in The Hague which we were told couldn’t happen.

Back for more beers to round off the evening and to think about where we might want to tackle next. Between us and France is Belgium. We discount Brussels, thinking it might just be a bit too formal and grown up. For cities in Belgium, that leaves us with Ghent and Antwerp. Antwerp’s nearer, and A comes before G. So yes, with about that much consideration, we have our next destination. There and then, Maja books the hotel.

Day nine
Saturday August 20

So yes, we’re finishing off this tour with a weekend in Antwerp. We arrive at our hotel at about 3:30pm after a wonderfully sunny two and a half hour drive. We’ve just put our bags down and have flopped on the bed when my phone rings. I answer it and a girl introduces herself Julia, one of the two girls we met yesterday who were having the party. Are we still around? Sorry, we’re not. Oh, that would have been interesting. We have a little chat as I enquire about their party and she also asks how we got on. Then she says that anytime we’re ever in The Netherlands again, anywhere in the country, we should let them know. Wow. Just like that, we discover we have something of a start of a student following in Holland.

Well, we’re here now and we should get going quickly enough. We have two days and it’s already deep Saturday afternoon. First, lunch. And a bit of a look around. We leave the hotel and discover that we’re right into the heart of things as a short walk takes us to a long promenade type area, very busy and somewhat near the river. We’re looking straight down what looks like a stretch of kilometres, and the whole thing appears to be just restaurants and bars. Before we even left the hotel we discovered we both really fancied a burger. A proper big bar one with fries or something. We take in a little more of this promenade, but yeah, we really lit up at a place called Ellis Gourmet burger, and a few minutes after walking past it, we’re turning and making our way straight back there. First off, just about the best burgers ever and an absolute perfection of the image I think both of us had when we said, yep, let’s do that. Also a fantastic outside setting. But then the final touch is that this the staff are truly brilliant. I have some experience of this you may know, and I can see when a team of restaurant/bar staff really are working around each other as a team and I totally see that here, along with a complete image of calm, always having time for a quick chat and to make sure everyone is doing well. We ask our guy about places to play, explaining that we’re on tour and are here for two days. He’s straight on it, explaining that the main bar area is up the street from where we are now and points us in the right direction. Now fuelled up and with a great first impression of this city, we thank him very much, go get our gear from the hotel and set off.

Back out again and we haven’t gone very far from the hotel and in the direction we were pointed until we come to what seems like a fairly local bar. We go in and find the manager who says that yes, we could possibly do something in here, but the jukebox is on now and she’ll have to see how many songs have been paid for. She leads us to it and about half an hour of songs are cued up. We’re welcome to wait until that lot’s been played, or we can try later. We thank her for her accommodation and say we may try some other time. Now we begin what is going to be quite a decent walk, loaded as we are, as we discover that Antwerp, not totally unlike Hamburg, has all the bars and venues concentrated in one place and, unlike in Hamburg, our hotel is totally on the other side of the city. Still, it’s a great walk and once we hit the first places, we’re in dense hustling territory.

Down a side street and a few people sitting outside a bar ask if we’re going to play. They’re a little bit on the older side and we’re not entirely sure, but they seem very interested so we go in and check it out. The manager, who we learn is called Azeeza, loves the idea and says sure, go for it. It really is a slightly (muchly) older clientele in here, although there is a sprinkling of slightly younger people. We’re only talking about 10 in total so a quiet early evening audience, but they’re intrigued about the prospect of getting something different, and when we start, they get into it instantly and are with us all the way. Azeeza is dancing her way around the place, and we have a guy in who clearly represents the metal element. Just for him, we pull out a few songs that aren’t total go-to additions for our smash set. My Game, My Rules, which is at times to be fair, and when that goes down brilliantly with him and everyone else, we decide to dust off Nobody Said. Yes. That also works. We declare ourselves done after five songs, but then the encore shout goes out and yes, they want to hear I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) again. How could we possibly refuse? And yes, these guys look after us very generously. We’re invited to stay for a drink but we have hustling to do. With that, Azeeza makes us promise to come back later and claim it then. Yes, come back later, comes back the consensus from an eager new audience. How could we possibly refuse? We’ve almost walked away from the place before we realise we’d never even got the name of it. It isn’t in big obvious lights like most bars, instead being displayed in quite small letters we see now, from the other side of the street. De Leuwvan Vladeren.

Out into the main streets now and the biggest thing we notice is that everyone is sat outside. We keep thinking of hustling bars, but then when we enter them, there’s no-one inside. Then a bar manager tells us that it’s so rarely warm here that no-one wants to miss taking advantage of the lovely weather. Oh dear. So this is kind of what we’re looking at. Bad weather makes for uncomfortable walking around hustling conditions but much better hustling opportunities. Nice weather. Yep, much better to be walking around in doing all this, but not so good for business. We really had never thought of it that way.

It’s the same when we come to Kids, a really central, really big bar that looks like it might well be the place to go around here. Inside it’s all set up for live music with a stage and a very clear live vibe. We meet manager Twist who says they have a band about to play, but he says that if we come round tomorrow sometime between four and five, sure we can play. Wow. Just like that, we have a gig in the book for tomorrow.

A little further along and we find a cool looking corner bar called De Vuile Was, with other corner bars around it. We go and talk to the guys there who seem to be jointly in charge and they’re cool with us having a go. We set up inside but again, people are generally outside, so we go out there and do our thing in the street with the amp up against an open window. The guys here at our terrace are really getting into it, people are coming out of the other bars and checking us out, and people are hanging out of apartment windows and filming us. This goes very well, but during our second song we see the managers of our bar talking to the manager of the bar across the small square. The guy comes back and says we have to stop because we’re disrupting the other bars too much. Oh well. But they’re really cool about it to be fair, and the hat gets a decent amount of action from our little audience. And at one of the tables we get talking to a girl called Kim. She says that her friend Alan runs a bar called The Corner House, a little way across town. We should go and see him. He’d love to have us, she says. We thank her and set off to our new destination.

On the way, on the final street before we come to The Corner House, we see a guy on the other side of the road. He’s looking at us with some little bit of interest and is standing outside some kind of quirky music shop. We wave at each other, and he beckons us across. And just like that we meet Barry, from California, who owns that very cool looking music shop. He’s very interested to hear about what we’re doing and how it’s going and takes a card. We chat to him for quite a while and he says he’ll definitely check us out. Of course we mention the show at Kids tomorrow, which he’s very impressed to hear that we have, but he has plans for around that time so unfortunately won’t be able to make it. No worries. Some other time maybe.

Now we walk that last hundred metres or so to The Corner House. There, instead of meeting Alan, we meet a guy called Sufian who says he took over the place some time ago. Oh. OK. We talk about what’s going on anyway, and he says he’d love to have us now but the place is totally empty. But please come back again tomorrow and if there’s any sign of a few people being around he’d love us to play. Brilliant.

We’re quite far off the beaten track now but there is another bar or two nearby, and Sufian points us in the direction of an Irish bar. But when we get there we just feel the vibe is all wrong, and nothing else of the limited options around here feels right. Well, we’ve played two shows today, got a good feel for the place, and it’s going to be getting on a little by the time we arrive back in the main area. Also, with the long walk out in the first place, we’re kind of almost walked out. And we have to get back to the hotel yet tonight as well. We’ve also got two gigs in the bag for tomorrow so that’s a result in itself. So we decide to call it for today and go for that drink at De Leuwvan Vladerenthere.

As soon as we arrive, we’re welcomed enthusiastically by a few people who are still there from when we played, and by Azeeza, who’s now semi off duty and has a table out front where we join her and other assorted locals for a drink. Almost immediately, her and Maja get talking and between them, arrange for us to play here tomorrow at eight. Damn. That’s three gigs in the book for tomorrow now. Practically no need for hustling anymore. Another drink after this one? How could we possibly refuse?

Day 10
Sunday August 21

Oh wow. Today it’s like we’re on an actual real tour. Final day of the thing and we have a full schedule actually booked. Three shows in the diary. So also, for the very first time, no need at all to go out and hustle. And we only arrived in this city yesterday, totally cold with no contacts having been made ever. With all that being the case, we have a very slow morning followed by a lovely lunch in one of the restaurants in that nearby practical restaurant city. Then, 4pm, like proper touring pros, we’re off for our first engagement at Kid’s. We’re totally delighted to have landed a gig here because it seems, as far as bar gigs are concerned around here at least, Kid’s is the most prestigious gig in town. Right in the centre, hugely prominent, hugely popular judging by the crowds we saw here last night. And by far the most custom built and apparently storied live music venue we’ve seen in Antwerp.

We arrive at Kid’s at around 4pm and the place is totally empty. Also, Twist isn’t there. However, the duty manager is and he says Twist told him to expect us and to have us play outside where there are five or six people currently hanging out and where it’s hoped a few more may come along. OK. We can do that. We get ourselves set up, give cards to the few occupied tables – maybe 10 people by the time we’re about to start – and get going. Well, this really becomes a thing as we rip it up between the outdoor tables and quickly get the attention of the whole street. This is a wide pedestrianised area with bars all along both sides and a good amount of foot traffic in between. We don’t attract too many people to actually come to this bar, sit down and spend money, but we do practically stop the foot traffic in its tracks as the scene in front of us transforms into something of an open air festival, complete with people standing in the middle of it all and dancing as we continue to do our thing. And it’s out there that we begin to project our energy as this starts to be in danger of becoming some kind of event. The people around us also totally come to it as we start to feel like we’re the only thing happening in town right now. And this is where we pull out Make Me Shine for the first time. Not the most assured we’ve ever performed a new song, but it certainly does seem to bring out the air drummer in people. While out there in pedestrianisedville, hands are being pumped into the air like we’re in a summer’s field main event stage.

When we finish, a guy called Coch buys us drinks and we sit with him and his friends, one of whom we at least learn is called Jack. They are regulars of decades standing here. As I might say, the taste setters among the cognoscenti. And they approve. ‘I would rather see The Diaries than U2 anyday,’ he exclaims, almost to the ether as he contentedly faces up to the sun, beer in hand. Now to us: ‘You guys have such an energy and an honesty of performance and with some really good songs. It was fantastic to see.’ We’ll take that.

As we’re basking in the same sun and a few more warm words from a few more people, we become aware of the shadow a gun holstered policeman talking quite sternly with the guys, who are all pictures of innocence. No idea what he’s talking about it seems. When he’s gone, we ask what that was all about. Apparently, some people in apartments across the road called the police to complain about us. The police were hearing reports of something that sounded like a riot and now here they are.

Oh wow. On our last tour we got kicked out of our hotel. Now here we are in Antwerp being accused of starting a riot and having the police called on us. All from one completely effectless acoustic guitar and a single vocalist.

The policeman, if anything, seems bemused, and doesn’t even register our presence, sitting right next to him, guitar case propped up against a chair. Who? Us? While he’s thinking, ‘What? Them?’ It’s like we’ve come, smashed, and are now invisible.

But almost as mad as the police being called on us is the report we hear that Twist made of us yesterday when he let it be known we would be coming. Apparently he said that he’d booked a folk act. Just a guy on acoustic with his girlfriend singing. A lovely little sway in the sun he seems to have had us down as. Yeah right. Just wait till you get the police report.

We would love to stay and have another beer, and indeed are invited to, but like the trend setting, riot inciting tour musicians we are, we have an engagement to get to. And another after that, so it’s time to rock on.

We arrive at the Corner House and damn. It’s empty again. Sufian profusely apologises. Not his fault. Empty is the last thing he wanted. He wishes us all the best and we thank him very much just for being up for it. I think now would be a good time to bring to your attention that over these past few days, in The Hague and now in Antwerp, we’ve yet to be told no by a single venue. There has been a time or two we’ve not covered when a manager or decision maker hasn’t been around, but apart from that, where someone had it in their gift, not one person has turned us down.

No gig, but we’re in the vicinity of Barry’s place so we decide to go by there on the way back and see if it’s open and if he’s around. Oh well. The shop’s closed. But as we stand there talking, he hear us us and and comes out to the street and asks how it’s been going. We fill him in, and then tell him about tonight’s show that we booked last night. He says he’ll come.

By 7:30, we’re back in De Leuwvan Vladerenthere where we’re now apparently recognised regulars on just our second day in town. A few guys are there from yesterday and they’ve brought a few more friends who are eager to see what all the fuss is about, and yes, a buzz ignites around the place when we walk back in. We’re set up by a little before 8 and the clamour begins for us to begin. But we want to wait until at least eight to give Barry a chance to get here. Afterall, our shows are so short that if we start ten minutes early and someone arrives five minutes late, they’re lucky to catch one song and maybe an encore. By ten past eight, the calls for us to start are becoming a bit too hard to ignore so we decide that yes, we really should just get on with it. Almost as soon as we start getting ourselves ready, Barry walks in. He came. Just brilliant. And we’re on.

Yes, this does become the biggest show of the past three days. We’re playing to people who could almost be regarded as fans by now, they’re delighted friends, and the wonderfully enthusiastic Azeeza who is something of a cheerleader for us by now. And Barry who is wide eyed in joyful shock as we practically rock the beers off the tables. When we’re done, the party continues and we jump right in, circulating and chatting to all the regulars around the place and staying all the way to closing time.

Tour over with a totally triumphant last performance and de facto party, we set off on our walk all the way through town back lto the hotel. On the last leg, we see the juke box bar we tried our luck in on that first leg out yesterday. No, we’re not thinking of hustling it. How could we possibly top that last show? We’re done. But we would quite like another drink or two to keep this evening going. And dammit. We’re in full on relaxation mode now, tour all done and only the journey home left. No more hustling, no more left to prove. At least for now. We approach the bar and it is indeed still open, which is to say there are still people in there enjoying the evening. But no. We’re informed as we reach the doors that it’s closed. Oh well. We tried. But inside we’re greeted by Miguel and Eddie who were at our last show, and the one in the same bar yesterday. They enthusiastically welcome us in, even though the bar will remain closed. But just like that, we’re transformed in the eyes of the staff and locals and then introduced to a guy called Jelle. He comes and talks to us and we’re told he’s the guy who knows about music around here. We have a great feeling for him immediately, which is reciprocated as he says he’s off to a bar that’s open till 5am, and would we like to come? Oh yes. Yes please. So, saying goodbye to our new friends in here, we set off deep into the back streets to be led to a bar practically no tourist would ever see.

It’s not massively big and looks something like a taverna. Cold hard floors, a few tables lining the window, a bar running almost the whole length of it with neatly arranged bar stools. And a game machine at the back. We buy our beers, including of course taking care of Jelle’s, and join him with a few regulars he knows at a table down on the floor.

Of course, talk soon turns to what we’ve been doing here, and our tour, and our experiences in general, then curiosity to what we actually sound like. Well, only one way for everyone to find out. Is it our most sober and professional performance ever? Maybe. Maybe not. Is it loud, raucous, and cheered and stomped at? Oh yes. And now we are done. Totally, completely. Concluded at an almost secret late late night bar in the back streets of Antwerp, saluted by the last standing locals of the weekend. A perfect end to a city that has given us just the best welcome and experience. As we’ve made it ourselves, so it has responded in as good a way as we could possibly have hoped, and more. As with Berlin, with Antwerp we believe we may have found another of our touring homes. A place we feel we can return to and develop on what we have achieved in just these two days. And that is what international touring is all about. We will be back.

Day 11
Monday August 22

Breakfast in the town centre. A quite superlative vegan falafel on the restaurant strip. This sets us up perfectly for our drive to our small hotel in France. And that’s all she wrote for today.

Day 12
Tuesday August 23

Up and out by 12, in perfectly good time to go wine shopping in France before leisurely trundling to the ferry. European tour number two. You were great to us. Thankyou. You are done.

The Album Diary, days one to 65

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.

The Album Diary, day 70

Day 70

Sunday November 6

Way back at the beginning when we were trying to decide what kind of act we would actually be, we came to the idea that we would play in bars that either didn’t have regular music at all, or bars that mostly had cover music. With that, we knew we were going to be a high energy pop act, which would mean veering very directly into rock territory with an acoustic guitar while attempting to keep hold of the total pop element. The act itself would also have to be fearless and pretty much in your face with the aim being to basically overwhelm whatever room we were in. Be bigger than the room. Always be bigger than the room. With that, we felt we would be able to walk into totally indifferent, or even hostile environments and win them over with songs they immediately connected with, combined with sheer force of performance and personality. This was our vision right at the beginning months before we had a single song. If we ever told anyone of this plan, if we were lucky, we were just ridiculed. So we very quickly realised we should just not talk about and get on with doing it.

We had our first early and undeveloped thoughts about this concept in March 2021, less than four weeks after we’d first met. We moved to Ireland a couple of months later in May, then had to detour almost immediately to Sweden, where we stayed until late July, all the time still not managing to get to any kind of songwriting. Once back in Ireland from Sweden we began working out in our new Irish home studio almost every day. At first we were working just from my own back catalogue of songs. But then on August 6, we finally wrote our first song together – All Kinds Of Wonderful. Ten days later we wrote our second song, I Like You Better (When You’re Naked). Three months after that we played our first gig, then we were onto our first European Tour, starting in Berlin at the end of November. All this from a standing start in August, working from a template developed in March.

I’m recapping all this first of all because it simply seems a good time to be doing it, but second, because tonight is the night of our show at The Canal Turn. By now we’ve done a lot of shows following the exact plan we set down almost two years ago, a plan that was shot down by everyone we were forward enough to mention it to. I think I’ll also say here that by the time we were preparing for our very first show, ridicule had turned to begging, at times aggressively so. Meaning people were really strenuously, for our own good, advising us not to attempt it. ‘I’m begging you not to do this,’ was one exact line we heard. While another new friend, who would later become quite a keen supporter and admirer, was almost aggressive in his assertions that we absolutely had to put some covers in our set. I should add that that aggression was directed in our own interests as he desperately tried to sway our intentions. 

For some reason, The Canal Turn is almost the exact identikit audience and demographic I had in my own mind when I was thinking and talking of all of this. A middle aged, musically conservative audience of perfectly pleasant people, but the kind of crowd who would only react to music in a vociferous way if it had the words Caroline and Sweet in the title. All the right words, not necessarily in the right order. And tonight, we here to play at least a full half hour rather than the usual 15 to 20 minutes we play. Nine songs. An actual full-on original show to a full-on committed coverband audience. If they’ll let us get through it.

Yes, they’re sceptical at the beginning but, to be fair, ready to give us a chance. But oh man, they very quickly have no idea what’s hitting them and they are absolutely loving it. Hands in the air, fists pumping, trying to sing along, shouting out ‘More’ after every song. Oh, the whole lot. I’ve just gone and had a listen to it all to see if it actually fits my memory of it, but it does and so much more. The impromptu, made up as we went along setlist goes like this:

I Like You (Better When You’re Naked)

Six Sense Lover

Make Me Shine

Rock’n’Roll Tree

A Thousand Doors

Fire

Give Me The World

The Cat

—–

How You Rock’n’Roll

Oh, and Freefall and Beanie Love to start but we forgot to press record at the beginning so the above is what we have.

We’re not far in before they’re loudly thanking bar manager Martin for booking us. But when A Thousand Doors comes, I still feel a bit uncertain as everyone starts talking over this tender song. But that’s probably more because this is the first time tonight they’ve really had the chance to. However, as the song develops and begins to enter epic territory, it really starts to feel epic as heads turn and the clapping along with us begins. By the end it’s just huge and there’s a call for a standing ovation, matched with, ‘You’re brilliant.’

This is followed up with another slow burn – Fire. After which the place really loses it with calls of ‘Number one. Number one.’ ‘I’m Your number one fan,’ ‘I want a record deal’ It almost feels like everything we’ve been doing has been building up to this show. Yes we’ve won hard audiences over before, but this really feels like an audience that was simply not there to be won over, but has totally crossed over to the other side with us.

After this, it’s a total sprint to the end, complete with encore, which we oblige. Give Me The World is a bit rough, but fair enough, a brand new song, and I wasn’t sure about that as we began, but yes, they’re totally up for this one too. Then The Cat is a tad rough to be fair but still smashes it. Then How You Rock’n’Roll sends them off happy. We kind of simultaneously pack up and talk to people, and all around the sense if of joyous disbelief joined with hugely vociferous and insistent hugs and handshakes, with calls to Martin to have us back. And indeed Martin himself is very gracious and appreciative.

As we walk out of the door, having waved at the bar one last time, the whole place erupts in applause, and this is the sound that accompanies us right to the car, where we settle into the seats in disbelieving jubilation and the relief of job totally smashed and done. Oh wow. Yes, yes, and just yes.

Yes there are a few rough spots, but tonight’s recording could almost be put up as a live album. Now, there’s an idea. I literally thought about this as I was writing that line. Then I mentioned it to Maja just as I’d finished this entry. And you know what? We’re doing it. It really feels right. Tonight’s show is such a good representation of where we are at this time and what we’ve done up to now. And it’s an excellent example of reactions from audiences who have never heard us. While it may only contain ten songs, we’re going to leave every bit of audience participation on there because really, they’re the tenth track.

The video of the show isn’t the best spectacle because we really couldn’t get a good angle for the camera, but you can see the whole thing here:

The Album Diary, days 82 to 115

Day 82

Friday November 18

We decided right at the beginning we weren’t going to write a day by day account of this next thing, but now it’s concluded, we can at least finally let you in on what’s been going on. October 20 was when we realised we would have to move onto the next stage of this thing, something we’d known was possible right from the start. That next stage being Maja re-entering the workforce so that we can keep this thing going. We wrote about this way back in the summer of 2021, revealing that Maja was and is a cloud engineer, a very highly sought and well paid profession. Well now she’s returning to allow us the possibility of continuing. But really, before things got real a few weeks ago, she had already said to me casually, one day while swimming in the local pool, ‘Would you like to move somewhere like New York or London? Maybe even Tokyo?’ We actually started mulling over the possibilities there and then while swimming laps. It’s actually happening now. After a long four week period of applications and interviews, today an offer was accepted and agreed and the job starts in London in January. So that’s it. We’re moving to London. Maybe even as early as next month.

The past few weeks, everything has been on hold as Maja has been preparing and attending online interviews. Now that process is complete, we now start looking for an apartment in London and getting this whole place packed up. How all this is going to happen, we have no idea just yet, but it is going to happen.

Everything on hold means all album production ceased, along with hustling gigs pretty much. This was why we were kind of relieved actually when the we arrived at The Canal Turn for the first time and discovered the mix up of dates. We’d managed no rehearsal and weren’t entirely sure how on our game we would have been. Having it replaced for the following week allowed us to get on it again and ensure we were able to put in the performance we did.

So we know we’re going to London, but for a while there were very real possibilities of a few other cities. Tokyo dropped in for a while, as did Amsterdam. New York was never a fully viability due to Visa requirements. But there was also the possibility of a remote position, meaning we could have stayed right where we were, although if that had happened, sometime next year we still would have probably aimed at a London move. 

London’s a huge place, so you might be wondering just where specifically. Shoreditch. We’d already decided that if we were to move to London we wanted to live in Shoreditch, one of my absolute favourite areas of the city. Along with Camden, it’s the creative capital of the capital. Full of one-off shops and the coolest venues with so many of them open to original music. And, being so central and well served by all kinds of public transport, it’s very well connected to all the other music scenes around the city. Plenty of other cities, and indeed London areas, may have their own cases to make, but I would say that Shoreditch is the best place in London to be if you’re a songwriting act. Which would make it the best place in the UK. And if London is the best place in the world to be doing this, which many – myself included – believe it is, then that makes Shoreditch the single best place in the world for The Diaries to be.

It’s totally central and somewhere I actually fantastised about living in from time to time when I used to live in London. It seemed an unattainable location actually. So Maja was looking at maybe working somewhere in Soho, or maybe the financial district, which is just down the road from Shoreditch, with Soho being a little further away but still a perfectly comfortable commute. 

While going through the process, one day Maja began musing about where the UK’s equivalent of Silicon Valley could be. I had no idea. I’d never had cause to think about it really.

So we looked into it. Do you want to guess where we discovered it was? I’m sure you have. Yep. Shoreditch. The roundabout next to Old Street tube station, which I’ve always looked upon with such fascination, even has a nickname. Silicon Roundabout.

What was that I was saying about Shoreditch being the best place in the world for The Diaries to be? Tomorrow the apartment hunt begins. And right now you really can guess where we’re looking to move to.

Day 85

Monday November 21

It’s starting. The plan is to drive to London with a full car load. The rest of everything we have will be put in storage in Dublin, and then a removal company/person will take that to the apartment in London that we don’t have yet.

But first we have to make sure that what we’re planning on taking with us can actually go with us. So today the car is brought into our back garden, then we identify the essentials and pack the car to make sure it does actually all fit. It does. We’re on. Right. Time to get boxes and get this whole house packed up and ready to go.

Day 90

Saturday November 26

Maja realises that, with Christmas happening with my family, if she wants to visit her family in any near future, it has to be now. Within minutes of that, she’s booked a flight leaving this Monday and returning Sunday December 11.

Day 92

Monday November 28

So that’s Maja off to Sweden and me on my own for a little while. 

I think I’m going to get into quite a lot of things, including songwriting, some album recording – mostly drums and bass – and Diary catchup. But the day after she leaves I get sick and have basically have the first week wiped out. Once recovered, I get into songwriting, completing Without A Gloria, Talk About The Weather, and The Beanie Shop. We also have a song in this batch called Moving To London which I get a good look at as well. 

And yes, during this time I do what I can about packing and preparing, but there is an awful lot we will have to do and decide together. And of course, I have no idea what Maja wants to do with her own stuff with regards to taking, storing or taking to our favourite charity shop. So I can’t do anything about that at all. But I’m satisfied that, by the time she gets back, I’ve done everything I can during her Sweden break.

Oh, and that charity shop. For local knowledge, it’s across the road from the Mace petrol station and has become one of our favourite places in Clara. Run by volunteers, including Lisa who becomes a very good friend of ours, it’s a wonderful shop and something of a drop-in place for a chat and a cup of tea. I want to name a few more names, but I know I’ll miss people out so I’ll leave it at Lisa who becomes our best friend there and a big supporter of The Diaries.

Day 105

Sunday December 11

Maja’s back from Sweden which means if we start tomorrow, we have exactly one week and a day to pack everything we have and leave the place as we found it when we first moved in. This will be a big planning job as we decide what we want to take, what to throw away, and what to give to the charity shop.

Taking our stuff to the storage unit in Dublin will ultimately take four trips, and we end up taking three carloads to the nearby rubbish/recycling centre. The amount of stuff you accumulate in a little over a year and a half. And we consider ourselves streamlined and definitely not hoarders. 

Day 109

Thursday Dec 15

A visit to Tullamore just because, and we take ourselves to our favourite coffee shop, The Riverside Cafe. We first came here in our first two weeks in Clara just as such places were allowed to open, but only for outside consumption. We heard the story then of how it was a fledgling business with a big heart. Well, it’s still here and we’ve continued to come from time to time. We have a chat with the manager today and tell him we’re leaving Ireland next week so this will probably be our last visit. We give him a card, and with that, he goes behind the counter and comes back with a present for us. A wonderful bag of Coffee Perfection coffee bags. This is a family run coffee company from County Meath. What a lovely gift and something to remember this fantastic cafe by. Thankyou Tullamore. We’ve loved our regular visits here. But I’m not best pleased at myself for neglecting to get the manager’s name. But thankyou to you too.

Day 110

Friday December 16

The ladies at the charity shop are well aware of our shows having seen various videos. They’ve often asked when we were going to play locally, but as you know, we generally do the Now Hustle so have no idea when or where until the day or even the minute. So we promised to do a show for them one day. It’s not been so easy to get calendars to match, we understand, so today as we’re out and about we decide to just go in and offer to play for them today. We go in and it’s Lisa and her friend Rosie looking after the shop. Of course we want to play for everyone and anyone, but we really wanted Lisa to get the chance to see us, and now here we are. She’s delighted to see us and to that we’ve said we’re going to play but the shop has to close in the next hour or so and then that’s it for Christmas. Oh wow. We’ve only just caught them in the shop’s very last hour of the year. OK. We’re on it. We make a quick dash home to get the guitar and return as soon as we can. Now it’s on and among all the racks of clothes and toys and general charity shop bric a brac we do our thing with Lisa and Rosie joyfully bouncing along. It really is one of the most fun songs we’ve ever done. Just the four of us in here, but vibe is almost blowing through the walls. We play four or five songs before finishing with Beanie Love. This has been a very impromptu set which we’ve made up as we’ve gone along and this particular song has been last by accident really. But they go crazy for it, telling us that’s our show stopper, encore, show closer, everything. Wow. OK. You kind of have a feeling a song is good, and have faith in what you do, or at least try to, and we’ve felt good about this song from the beginning. But to get such emphatic feedback is amazing. We’ve given them I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) How You Rock’n’Roll, Six Sense Lover, Rock’n’Roll Tree and The Cat, and they’ve chosen Beanie Love as their favourite out of the lot of them. You really know nothing about your own songs most of the time. You often find out where the best ones are by listening to your audience. 

Thankyou very much ladies. We really have got just under the wire here as they are getting called away and have to close the shop, almost as the last notes of Beanie Love are still reverberating around these four small walls. 

Tears are shed as we hug and say our goodbyes before walking back home down the road, ecstatic at the show we’ve just done and the sheer fact we were able to do it. We truly didn’t want to leave Clara without Lisa having seen us play. We also can’t believe the sheer last minuteness of it. And this show might only have been for just two people in an empty charity shop, but oh it felt epic.

Of course, anyone who’s ever moved house knows that however long you think anything is going to take, or however much you think you have to do, multiply it by five or maybe even ten and you might, just might, be half way there in your estimation. And oh is there a lot a lot a lot to do. Just overwhelming at times, but keep going. One foot in front of the other. One car load after another. One box packed after another. It’s pretty much the same with recording actually. As I’ve often said, approach any day in a studio and you’re like, oh today we’re going to get that, that and that done, and maybe some of that and that. If you’re lucky, you might be there till midnight and get half of one of the thats done. So it is here. Which means we feel like we have hardly any time to do anything at all outside of what we’re doing to get all this done in the first place. Which explains why the charity shop show, that was so important to us, only just made it under the tightest of wires. And why we feel up against it to even think about playing a last goodbye show in The Trap. But it would just be wrong not to. And of course we want to hang out in there a little and have a drink or two with so many of the people who’ve been with us since the beginning, were at our very first show, and have become friends and simply part of our community, or rather, we’ve become, or at least tried to become, part of theirs.

With that in mind, we head off into The Trap for a Friday night out. During general mingling we chat to Jimmy, one of the bosses. Somehow he hasn’t heard that we’re leaving but we’re actually glad about that as it means we’ve told him ourselves. But it’s still mad to see the way his face falls when we do so. ‘You’re going to have to play here before you go,’ is his immediate reaction. Fantastic. Exactly what we were thinking. This is also a good place in which to tell you what our actual leaving plans are. 

We have an 8:30am ferry on Wednesday from Dublin which means we want to be on the road by 5:30am at the latest to absolutely ensure we arrive by 7:30. We’re banking on having a few last minute things to do that morning, maybe bits and pieces we can’t do until the last minute, including a few checklist things our landlord has asked us to be in place to ensure easy takeover. So we’re planning on being up by 4am to give ourselves an hour and a half in the ‘morning.’ Which essentially means that although we’re technically leaving Wednesday morning, we’re really leaving very late Tuesday night. All this is to say that a night out Tuesday is out of the question. And with The Trap having music Saturday and Sunday, the only available night to have a last show is Monday. And that’s exactly what we settle on.

Apart from telling Jimmy, a few other people hear the news for the first time tonight, while there are other people who already know and come to say hello, have a chat and generally say nice things about what we’ve achieved in our time here, from playing our very first show in The Trap to the two European tours to our continuing travels playing around Ireland. All from scratch and all from our base in our house in Clara which we used to do exactly all of this.

The overriding sentiment is that we’ve made a big impact on the local community, that we really have been taken into the hearts of so many people here, and that we will very much be missed and people are very sorry to see us go. One person tells us that we actually can’t leave, going on to almost asking us not to. Then, for us, there’s a huge moment when someone else tells us we enhanced Clara. Oh damn. Enhanced Clara. I can’t think of a bigger compliment and that one just about floors us.

And there are a couple of friends who’ve begun their own songwriting efforts which we like to think we’ve inspired. During the evening, they ask if we would mind if they covered I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Oh wow. Lads, of course not. Go for it. It’s an honour to be asked and we look forward to hearing it.

When we first arrived and first started thinking about playing live, we discussed at some length where we would play and if we would even think about playing locally. The thought being we might want to keep this kind of to ourselves as far as the local community was concerned, and maybe there was a little feeling that if we didn’t go down well, then that could impact our experience here. Can you imagine getting to know people, making friends and then getting booed out of your first show? I really did feel quite trepidatious going into that first one. Indeed, one guy said if we weren’t good he’d throw things at us – said in jest, but really… And another person, who we’d come to get on very well with said they couldn’t hang around after we started. That person stayed till the end, said I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) was the best song she’d heard in years, and became a firm supporter of ours. So yeah, I really felt there was a hell of a lot riding on that first show. I don’t think Maja felt quite the same and indeed, she really didn’t have any nerves about it at all which blew me away quite frankly. And as that particular evening went on, it became clear these were not words of bravado, but a statement of matter of fact. Conversely, in our first conversations about whether or not we should play around here, right down to where we would like our first show to be, there was an underlying arrogance, or at least confidence. No. Arrogance. And it was me who voiced it. I thought it was important our first show was in Clara and that people here knew what we were doing and that we would be seen to do it. I had the idea that Clara could develop a sense of ownership of us. That this was where we started. That, in some kind of sense, the people of Clara could grow to feel some kind of ownership of us, or at least feel a part of our story, and if that was to be the case, there was an importance that this had to be where it all began. Not just from living, writing and working here, but also to be the place where we first ventured out into the (spot)light. And so we did. And here we are, last show in Ireland booked, in the same place we played our first show anywhere. The Trap. As we hear the thoughts of people who have become our friends and supporters, people who we are going to play for again on Monday, our last night out in Ireland, at least for now, it’s clear that everything we said to ourselves at the beginning, with breathtaking arrogance to be fair, has come to be. This is the birthplace of The Diaries and we have also very much made it our home. There can be no doubt. Clara totally has a place in our hearts and we know we will miss it very much.

Day 113

Monday December 19

The night of our last show in Ireland – for now. And as you know, it’s the same venue we played our very first show in just over a year ago on November 5 – The Trap. You can read about that particular show in The Tour Diaries Prologue.

Just as the contrast between where we are now and where were were that day is enormous, so it is between tonight’s show and the last one we played. In The Canal Turn, we were facing a sceptical crowd that we really had to win over. Here, they are on our side as soon as we enter. If anything, they’ve been waiting for us and a cheer goes up as we walk in the door. They even know a lot of our songs. This is a home fixture. But more. A goodbye home fixture.

It’s possible we’ve never had so much expectation. Laksmi, Berlin maybe. And the return to Peadars in Moate was also a bit special to be fair. But The Trap. That’s different altogether. You might think that would allow us to relax a little. Of course it’s nice to walk into a place and people know what you’re about, but relax? Not at all. You simply can’t be complacent. If anything, you have to go for a show like this even more; unlike any other show we’ve ever done, tonight I’m feeling the tingle of responsibility that I don’t want to let down. More than anywhere else right now, this is our crowd and we really truly have to give them what they came for. Oh, that’s another thing. As you know by now, our general model is to essentially ambush. There’s none of that tonight. This time, people are ready and waiting for us. And they expect. We have to deliver.

We really wanted to get into The Trap at some point in the weekend for our last weekend in Clara and we did that on Friday. As for the rest of the weekend, we were just so busy packing and organising with the clock very much ticking against us. Oh, there’s been so so much to do and there still is. It just feels never ending. But tonight we get a bit of a respite as we head across to The Trap again to play our last show at what will definitively be our last night in the bar.

I wrote a blow by blow account of our last show at The Canal Turn so I won’t recount a full show again, but what I will say is that the turnout does us proud and that we hear so many comments that are so heartfelt that I really don’t want to put them in here. But what comes across from everyone we talk to tonight, before and after the show, is how much they love that we just put ourselves out there. That we include the audience. That we don’t just stay on the stage, that we move around the venue and take the show to the people. We also hear that our presence has been positively felt about the place, in here and out and about. And of course it’s great to see that the songs do indeed hit home as we play them in here for the last time. And yes, when it comes to the two song encore, we do indeed finish with I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), a song who’s very popularity, it feels, was born in The Trap.

As we come to our last few songs, off duty bar staff Adam and Amy, who’ve wonderfully come out tonight to see us, approach us in a rare moment when we’re both on stage, and present us with two amazing bouquets of roses. At this, the whole place erupts in a spontaneous applause which becomes the longest sustained applause we’ve ever had. I can’t speak for Maja here, but I feel, in that moment, that they’re not just clapping tonight’s performance. They’re clapping for us, The Diaries, for everything we’ve done to get to this point. And maybe, clapping for all of the performances we’ve done in here with The Trap being the place we’ve played more than any other; tonight is our seventh live appearance in here. And it’s the first place we ever played, which by extension makes it the first place we played in Ireland, and it now becomes our last show in Ireland. 

With that – maybe it’s people seeing their last chance – as we finish, there’s a clamour for autographs on our very own Diaries beer mats. So much so that, as Maja sets herself up at a table to be able to write on them, a queue forms. An actual queue. For autographs of The Diaries. 

It should be mentioned, mostly as a silent thankyou to the people who came out for us tonight, that we don’t do the hat for this show. But bar owner Angela is totally on hand for us with free drinks, and our friends here help keep us topped up after that as well so that’s still a result.

During this aftershow glow, people insist we return someday, and we fully and truly agree. Now we have a wonderful wonderful post show mingle around so many of these people who have become our friends. However, there are still some we’ve been on nodding acquaintance with for a while but have never really spoken to properly. That changes tonight in quite a few cases.

When the time comes for us to leave, we do so with the applause of Clara ringing in our ears and accompanying us out into the night. 

Oh, we are going to miss this place. 

We moved here in May 2021 and so have been here just over a year and a half. It has course been covered in The Diaries, but it’s worth mentioning again here that the total catalyst for the move was Brexit; once me and Maja had become an item and saw a future for ourselves, we knew that Maja couldn’t stay and work in the UK and I couldn’t move to Europe and live and work there. So we needed a solution. That’s where Ireland came in; it was in the EU so Maja was OK there, and owing to its border with the UK’s Northern Ireland, a Common Travel Area was created meaning I was OK there as well. Once that was decided, we then further decided to make the most of the move, seeing it as an opportunity to find a detached house – in a countryside area we thought, because this would make it the most cost effective solution. The idea then was to use that house as a base to write songs and have a place to rehearse and record any time day or night, a concept that would have been financially far out of reach in London.

As you know, that’s exactly what we did. We had different ideas of what would happen next, one of the possibilities being to keep the house in Clara and use it as a base to return from European and world touring. Then the London move and opportunity came up, and here we are.


Clara, and all at the Trap, thankyou very much. 

Day 114

Tuesday December 20

Our last day in Ireland. And our last day of packing, organising and cleaning. It feels like we’ve been doing this forever and there’s still a ridiculous amount to do. It doesn’t feel like we can get it all done today, but we have to. Tonight we leave. Well, actually tomorrow, but as we’ve been saying and thinking, we’re going to be up at 4am, planning to actually leave by 5:30am so that really counts as Tuesday night.

After last night’s amazingness, I’m up at 8am and on it straight away, although yes, there is a mid morning break and slump before we’re up and properly at it again. The flowers we received from Adam and Amy last night are on proud display and we even manage to get a few photos of the flowers in different parts of the house.

When we started this process, we really thought we’d get more or less finished with a day or two then left to chill. Oh how funny that is. We haven’t even managed a buffer day. Instead, we’ve feel up against deadline the whole time and we don’t even get a respite from that today as the job just goes on and on and on. Finally finally finally, as 2am rolls round, two hours before we have to get up again, we declare ourselves totally fully, truly done. We even have the car packed. Now there are just those very last minute of last minute things to do that can’t be done until we’re ready to go. Which is why we’re up an hour and a half before we have to leave. Which means we get to go to bed for a full two hours. A little more than a nap. I don’t even manage that much. I don’t sleep at all. Then the alarm goes at 4am and we’re up and on it again. Time to finish up and leave. This is it.

Day 115

Wednesday December 21

It actually feels really unsettling when we truly finish everything. By 5:30am as planned, Maja’s waiting in the car, which is already started, and I close the door. For the first time ever we don’t have the keys to get back in again. This really is it. We’re out of the house and it’s no longer ours. We’re locked out. Time to move forwards. Time to move to London.

I walk away, get in the car, and we’re off. Goodbye Clara.

We arrive at Dublin’s ferry terminal around 7, then we’re onto the ferry at 8. We’ve been on the go for exactly 24 hours.

Although this is only a short crossing to Wales, we still booked a cabin. Mostly because Maja still has a long drive on the other side and we kinda had a feeling that the day before this would be a big one. Here we are and with the 2am finish, it’s all played out even more extreme than expected. We really need to sleep now and we need to sleep properly. Oh wow, the bed feels incredible and the sleep is instant and truly glorious. We then wake around 11am, not long before arriving in Wales and have a shower which feels like just the most ridiculous level of luxury. Oh wow we are now ready to be on our way again. And although it’s full on daylight and midday, we’ve really done little more than nap, so it still feels like we’re in Tuesday.

We’re expecting a drive of around five hours but our GPS takes us very much on the scenic route, during which time we suddenly find ourselves driving through the village of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch. Well, it has a Co-Op, so that will do for a nice pitstop. And yes, the name of the village is on its frontage. 

Now, I always thought Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch was the longest place name in the world. I’ve just discovered it isn’t. To get the name of this place – I copied it off the net. Of course I didn’t look it up and type it, or even more ridiculous, remember it. But no. Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch isn’t the longest place name in the world. That belongs to Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu. 

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu, I’ve just discovered, and I might just have inadvertently copied and pasted this next bit, is a hill near the town of Porangahau, south of Waipukurau in southern Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand. But if no-one lives there – and no I haven’t bothered checking – that means that Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu is simply the name of a hill, while Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch is the name of an actual village where actual people actually live. So by that reasoning, could it possibly be claimed that  Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch is indeed the longest place name in the world and not Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu?

Of course I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about.

Maja:

And neither have I. I just thought it was really fun to take a selfie in front of Co-Op in Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, day zero

Day zero

Wednesday December 21

Maja:

I can’t believe we’re almost in London. I can’t believe it. That’s the thought that keeps running through my mind as I continue to drive. The Welsh country roads soon change to the motorways of England as we continue the journey. I’m so tired it hurts, but I don’t want to stop. Every minute at a parking lot is a minute that we could spend in our new apartment. The scenery changes and we finally stop for a quick bite at a rest stop not far from London. I stumble out of the car, and for the first time since Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, I’m able to stretch my legs for a bit. Mind you, that means stumbling from the car to the restroom, trying my best to walk straight so as to not show Mark just how dizzy and exhausted I am. I end up lying down on the bench in between families of screaming children as I wait for Mark to order us dinner. The glamorous life on the road. The world is moving, and it’s not strange since I’ve been in transit for so long. It’s 7 pm by the time we get back in the car after our short break. One hour to go. Only one more hour.

The city is getting closer, is all I can think of as all the signs come by one at a time. First the warnings about the ULEZ zone and then the scenery is starting to change. I can see the city lights! ‘Mark, Mark, Mark! Look! It’s London!’. Yes, I speak like that. For real. All the time.

All of a sudden we’re in the middle of the city. Or as what I consider to be the middle of the city. It’s a place I actually recognise and know very well myself. We’ve magically ended up in Archway and we’re driving towards the best view of the city that I’ve ever seen from the car. Now we’re passing under that bridge me and Mark stood at during lockdown when we were taking a walk to pick up some plates. Can you believe that? I actually know where we are. In London. I can’t believe that. You can see the red lights giving a strong contrast to the night sky. The London night skyline. It’s stunning, and only for a moment I’m able to enjoy that view I’ve missed for years now. Or what is it, almost two years to be exact. But the moment is short and I can’t stop the car so we continue along, crossing Archway which I remember so well. I wish I had time to stop and walk around, because I’ve missed it so dearly. But we still have a long way to go. I can’t believe how much further we still have to go. Straight towards the tall buildings. I thought Archway was central! But we continue along, the roads are smaller and I have to focus as I navigate us safely to our new home. We drive by a lot of famous places I don’t know yet, and some I do. And after a while, we arrive in Shoreditch. This is so central it’s a part of the congestion charge zone, and my first reaction is how prominent the nightlife is. It feels almost scary. A bit daunting. I’ve never really lived centrally in a city before. It’s always been in the suburbs, or smaller towns. Never totally in the city. In the Capital of Europe, London. One of the coolest cities of the world, and now I am in the coolest part of that city. I can’t believe it. 

I navigate to a little side street, park the car temporarily and leave Mark there as I run to a place to collect our keys from the guardian. I’m a bit confused as to where that guardian is, I have to call him up and ask because even though I’m outside the building I can’t figure out which building. He comes out and greets me outside and I follow him into the reception of some place that just looks strange. It looks like a building site, but maybe more like how I imagine a movie set. It’s temporary but seems in use and a lot of like fabric hanging making the corridors look strange to me. But I don’t get to go further inside than the entryway where I’m handed the keys and then sign some papers. I try to ask some questions but the guardian doesn’t know anything so I just leave. I’ve got the keys. And have had an absurd experience. I guess that’s Shoreditch for you. I go back to the car. ‘Hey Mark! We got the keys!’ Cue hugs and kisses and loud cheers, and we’re off again. The last hundred meters or so down small roads. I’m able to park the car just outside the apartment and we see we’re on the first floor. Which is something to be very grateful for when you’re moving. The road we’re on is quiet. It’s a cul de sac, so no cars around and I can’t hear the city at all. Which is amazing, for being this central. We stumble into the empty, unfurnished apartment, to check it out before we start unpacking. Can you believe we live here now? I can’t. I. Just. Can’t. 

My little tiny Toyota is filled until bursting. I can’t believe we managed to get all we got into it. Six guitars. PA system. Vinyl collection. Clothes. Computers. And a few things we forgot to put into storage in Dublin; The seat part of the drumchair for example. And yesterday as Mark was cleaning the house, I was putting the seats apart to press clothes in under them. You know the space under the seats. That’s a perfect place for our spice collection. The spare tire. Oh, let’s fill that area with guitar leads. Great! 

And now in the matter of minutes we take each and every item out and dump everything on the floor. Thank you car, you did great once again. 

As we lock the car and go back into the apartment there’s only one thing left to do. We blow up the airbed, put the sheets and duvet on and fall into it. I can’t believe it. 

‘Mark. We made it.’

And we fall fast asleep until morning. 

The London Diary: Shoreditch, days one to 73

Day one

Thursday December 22

Mark:

Our original plan was to go away for Christmas today, but we need this day here more than we had begun to anticipate. There’s loads of general apartment organising and bits of admin stuff, and then we’ew off out to buy a few little bits and pieces for the apartment. For this we leave our area and take a drive to Stratford, a town out in east London which has a shopping centre. Then late afternoon we manage a little walk around our new area, one of the very coolest in London. The bars and potential venues seem almost endless, especially given our track record for playing in places not generally considered live or original music venues. Go to the end of our very short street and turn right and there’s a bar 20 metres that way and another one across the road from that. Turn left and we’ve got one within about 70 metres and a whole bunch not far from that one. And this is the backstreets. The whole place is filled with tiny roads, off of which branch more tiny roads with more hidden bars. And this being Shoreditch, there’s bound to be so many places not even visible from the street. This is going to be very interesting area to get to know.

We also discover that there are loads of temporary food stalls set up right across the road from us. Falafel stand, kebab stand, and three or four others. These, we learn, are set up and taken down every lunchtime to cater for the huge amount of office staff around here. We will also later learn that there are a few more streets round Shoreditch where this happens, including two streets, both very close, that are totally taken up both sides by such stands. It’s like living in the food section of a theme park.

Having looked round our local area a little, we take a walk to Covent Garden to visit Krisoff, manager of the White Hart. He’s stunned when we walk in. The whole double take thing. A lovely drink or two with him where we recount a few recent adventures and fill him in on where we’re living now. This place, in the heart of the West End, is a walk of a little over half an hour from our new apartment.

As for where we are, it’s kind of surreal to think we live here now, especially straight after living in a tiny town in Ireland. When I was living in Kentish Town, a friend who lives in rural Wales once asked me if I could see the tall buildings from where I was. When I said yes, he said, ‘You’re central.’ Well, from where we are now, we can’t see the skyline at all. We’re right inside it. For a start, we’re right in the centre of UK’s equivalent of Silicon Valley. And again, if you’re not familiar with London geography, you probably at least know the Gherkin among a few other things. We’re about 10 minutes’ walk away from that.

Day eight

Thursday December 29 

Mark:

Lottery winners are probably more common than holders of central London parking permits. And you don’t have a permit, you would probably have to be a lottery winner to be able to afford to one. So we’re not going to do that. Instead, just like we did during our visit here last year, we drive out to zone four and find a free parking spot there. That’s about eight miles away. For those not familiar with London geography, it has eight zones, essentially arranged in rings, so zone two surrounds zone one and so on. Of course, we’re in zone one. And for parking we’ve pretty much followed the tube line from our local station and parked near one of the stations in zone four. This means that anytime we want the car, we hop on one tube, go pick the car up and use it, take it back to the same, or a similar place, then a single tube ride back home. Simple. So as long as we have the car here, we have the possibility to maybe gig in other areas of the country, or maybe areas of London or outside that aren’t so convenient for public transport.

Back home and we have another acclimatising walk round neighbourhood, also venturing a onto the edge of the financial district. Here we find a hotel that has a few lovely bars open to the public, including a roof bar. Cool, although that’s not open right now, and neither are the others, but a good discovery. Out of there and we almost immediately find a very classy place called Flight Club, a small chain company of bars. And it’s here that we have our very first pint in our new area.

Then we’re off for something slightly less classy. Having rented an unfurnished apartment, we still only have what we could fit in the car, including the air mattress so we at least have bed. But that’s it. So dinner is a takeout, which is all great, but which we eat sitting on our cold tiled kitchen floor. But even that is still kinda wonderful in its own way. We’re here.

Day nine

Friday December 30

Mark:

I thought I knew Shoreditch, having come here quite often when I was last living in London. But I really didn’t. We’re having little walks and discovering more and more and it really is a city in itself. And so many backstreets, including our own part of Shoreditch which feels like it’s more for the locals. Well, this is a busy nightlife area and I don’t think people are coming here from all over London to go and have a quiet drink in a backstreet bar. So I’m taking it that they’re mainly for us. And our neighbours. We’ll let them use them too. And the office workers. Oh, so many office workers. Come here during a weekday lunchtime and you’ll see that it truly is techtown.

Highest on the agenda today is picking up a table from the nearby catalogue shop. This is to be a narrow thing that will go along the wall in our kitchen and it comes with two matching stools. With that, we will now have our first furniture in the apartment – air mattress notwithstanding.

We’ve picked it up and I’m struggling back through the side streets carrying it home. Why oh why did I not think to bring our trolley? I have almost no vision of what’s in front of me and am just following Maja’s feet and trusting her to tell me if there’s anything bump-intoable. Then I hear, ‘Mark.’ I ignore it. Then again. Oh, maybe they are calling me? I should check. I tentatively turn round. I don’t believe it. Marco. A chef I worked with way way way back at The Oxford. He’s one of my favourite former colleagues although we haven’t kept in touch that much but I’ve seen that he has been following The Diaries. And even now, bizarrely, he sees and recognises Maja before he sees me, because he’s seen our Youtube videos. Wow. OK. So we have a hello with Marco now and of course I introduce the two of them. So he works here in this very expensive restaurant called Ozone, and we live practically at the end of the road down there. He suggests we come in for breakfast soon, and promises us a half price discount. Well yes. We will. Thankyou very much. Brilliant. We’ll see you soon. 

Now to continue and get this thing home and set up. And yes. We now have now transformed our kitchen and whole living experience. Just having a little place to hang out on and eat and have a drink and listen to music. Seriously, having this little thing has suddenly transformed the whole feel of the apartment.

We have a chat to Rick later and see if he can guess where we are. Ridiculously coincidentally, our street name does have a link to us so I tell him it is possible to guess. He comes back with, well the only street in London I know, and it’s only because we had our headquarters there, is Mark Street. I. Do. Not. Believe. It. This street is tiny with only two apartment blocks on it, one on each side. And it’s very very out of the way. And yes, Rick’s office was across the road. We can see where it was from our window. Just crazy. So that means that across one road is Maja’s office. On other side is Rick’s. And in the middle – in the apartment itself – there’s ours. Which, for now, kinda means mine.

Day 10

Saturday December 31

Mark:

We can’t believe we live here. It just keeps hitting us. Everytime we walk out there’s more and more to discover, not least just a huge variety of restaurants from so many different countries and cultures. There’s the other mad little thing that if we venture out a little way on a walk, on our way home, we’re heading right towards the London skyline, knowing we’re continuing to walk right into and among it to get home. And on our way out into the West End for New Years tonight, we discover the famous Leadenhall Market which is bang on our route 15 minutes walk from the apartment. This was used as the location for filming Diagon Alley in Harry Potter. Less than ten minutes later and we’re walking past St Paul’s Cathedral. A little further on from there and we’re in The West End. This is our New Years tonight as we plan to split our time between Kristoff’s White Hart and Tommy’s Marquis, a little further down the road just off the corner of Trafalgar Square.

We arrive at The White Hart around 8pm. After meeting him and everybody, he gives us wristbands that let us back in later on. Oh. Had no idea they were needed. The place is kind of booked out, but he’s making room for friends. Brilliant. While chatting, he says we really should play here. Gig number three offered. Brillianter. A few drinks in here and we’re off The Marquis just off Trafalgar Square. The plan is a drink or two in there, then back to Kristoff’s before midnight to take in the actual New Year. When we get to The Marquis it’s locked. But we knock on the window and Tommy comes out and is delighted to see us. He also had no idea we were in London. He tells us they have a private event tonight for locals but he’s putting our name on the list. They’ll be open in half an hour or so. Thankyou very much. So we just have a general wander around the area, also taking the opportunity to pop into a cafe for tea and cake. Then back to Tommy’s. Once there we get introduced to a lot of the bar staff I’ve not met before and basically hang out with the locals. 

It’s New Year’s Eve in central London and we have a total local bar vibe going. We enjoy this for a while then leave for Kristoff’s and the final party of the year. Just as we’re leaving, Tommy says we have to come back sometime and have a talk about playing here. Absolutely. Yes. And with that, we have London gig number four on the cards.

Back to The White Hart now and the pace has fully picked up and stays that way till countdown and some time beyond. In between, a few familiar faces come and hang out, including one or two people Maja met last time we were in London. Bouncing between these two bars, tea and cake interlude in Soho and then party with a bang in here really has been quite a fantastic way to bring in 2023. We head off about 2am, starting to think about how to get home. Well, all the roads in town are closed and there’s no public transport to be had anywhere. Despite that, so many bus stops are crammed with expectant people who will have to accept the situation at some point. We’ve already accepted it, but fortunately for us, we can just keep walking. 

Day 11

Sunday January 1

Like everyone else, really not much.

Day 12

Monday January 2

Mark:

A cool interlude today as Paul calls out of the blue. ‘Guess where I am.’ Oh alright. How long have we got? Well, he wouldn’t say that if I didn’t have a chance, so, ‘Somewhere in London.’ ‘Angel,’ he says. That’s pretty handy. That’s the next town from us, just out of the edge of Shoreditch and then a straight road to Angel. Do we want to meet up? Yeah, that works. So yeah. Me, Paul and Maja have a wonderful late morning/ early afternoon catchup starting at the hotel he’s staying at before venturing out for lunch nearby. 

As for what Paul’s doing here, he works with some of the top darts players in the world, arranging and writing PR and making sure other things go smoothly for many of the players. He’s here today for the world championship taking place in the nearby Alexandra Palace, as the guest of Dmitri Van den Bergh who will go all the way to the semi final. 

Day 13

Tuesday January 3

The last day before Maja begins work. A gentle day and a nothing night. This is all about preparation and getting the apartment together. 

Day 14

Wednesday January 4

Mark:

The first day for Maja as the job begins. 

Apart from that, the next few days and weeks will be a flurry of unpacking and apartment admin, including taking deliveries of and putting together various bits of flatpack furniture. A large wardrobe and bed in the studio, where I also have to reassemble the desk we brought with us. Then there’s the main bed, sofa and the rest. You can be spared the details. Beyond that, outside of Maja’s new office, it’s all quite pedestrian right now and will be for a little while. I also pretty much observe her hours. Going to bed and getting up at the same time, and overall just being pretty sedate and totally not rock’n’roll. But really, all this is total lifestyle commitment and dedication to create the ends for what we have to do to be able to rock’n’roll. And that, really, is total rock’n’roll.

So yeah. Maja goes to work, comes home and we relax until the next day. During those days I take delivery after delivery, including a bunch of flatpacks which I put together, and I go round town running errands. The kind of golden material Diary is made of.

But yeah, really, there isn’t going to be a great amount of The Diaries over the next few months, and not a massive amount of out on the town either with Maja in bed at a decent hour each night to start early in a demanding office, with me mostly keeping the same hours. For myself, I’ll be looking at some continuing studio time as we get that together and hopefully I can keep a few songs coming while developing some of the ideas we already have. And as I already said, there’s a lot to do to get our place into shape, at least in the first few weeks or so with all the flatpacking. But this first three months in London is about Maja settling in which means yes, getting used to the new job, but mostly completing her probation period before really thinking too much about performing. That means three months before we’ll really start to see much action for The Diaries beyond what I might get up to catching up in here, in the studio, and working on songs. I’ll fit what I can of that in between all the daily apartment admin bits and pieces and generally trying to make life as easy for Maja as possible allowing her to concentrate on getting up to speed in the office without having to worry too much about what state the apartment or dinner is in. So yeah. To put it crudely, I’m taking care of house and Maja’s taking care of the money. My job here is The Diaries. To lay the groundwork, keep the studio going, do that song thing I mentioned a moment ago, and keep myself up to speed for when we are ready to hit the stage again. And when we do reach that time, it will be me doing most of the daytime hustle to really start getting things off the ground. Maybe a few quiet nights out to connect with the area and simply get out from time to time. Some of that may or may not be written about. But really, for the next little period, we’re pretty much just playing house.

Day 15

Thursday January 5

All the stuff we left behind in storage in Ireland arrives today, courtesy of Ger O’Dwyer – get the actual name of the company. He delivers a great service and has even found some carpet type material with which he’s wrapped our keyboard. That’s above and beyond territory. Thanks Ger. 

But now what will be our living room is filled with ten large boxes and assorted odds and ends. Our apartment currently resembles a small warehouse.

Day 17

Saturday January 7

We have a bed now so we’re off the air mattress. That is a big deal.

And our first night out with friends as Matt, his girlfriend Elisa, and their friend Johannes come round to meet us in Shoreditch. This will be the first time we’ve seen Matt since arriving back in London and we begin at our local neighbourhood bar The Fox. Maja describes this as being nearer to us than The Mill was in Clara, and that bar was next to the mill it was named after – that thing in our back garden by the way.

The Fox is a nice and cosy place to meet. Perfect for a catchup and away from so much of the frantic Saturday night-ness that is going on everywhere else around here. While ordering at the bar I get chatting to a barman who introduces himself as Chris, who now becomes the first person around here who we’ve got to know the name of. I tell him we’ve just moved in down the street and he says, ‘Welcome to the neighbourhood. There are a lot of interesting people round here to meet.’ I bet there are.

From here, we venture to the edge of our backstreet area to The Griffin, another old style pub, but far far busier with a Saturday night crowd. There isn’t a table to be had as we walk in, but just as we reach the bar a table of four people get up and leave and, without breaking stride, we slip right into their vacated space. Result. Right. We’ve done the neighbourhood thing. Now to at least get into a little bit of the action. Across the road and we’re on the main street and into The Old Blue Last which is now at full volume and really warming up. We accelerate into Saturday night here, then when we’re done, we wander down the road to find a burger and beer bar to finish off. Out of here and it’s time to say goodnight. And after what’s felt like a full night out on the town, it feels quite ridiculous to negotiate our way through the still partying crowds and then simply step across the road to find quiet backstreets and then home.

Day 18

Sunday January 8

Sundays really are amazing round here. We live just off the financial Square Mile so, like that area, we have a massive weekday office population but for actual residents, the whole place is really lightly populated. So Sundays, we can walk all around our area and the whole place can feel deserted, like we have this part of London all to ourselves. Within all this, a simple walk to the shop this morning is a revelation. On my way back, I pass a guy walking down the otherwise empty street with his son. They’re singing together. But no other kind of casual street singing I’ve heard before. No. This guy is singing lines of opera in a quite astonishing voice, and the boy is repeating them back to him. Just another one of those reminders that this place really is a bit different. An inspiring outing to buy milk.

Day 19

Monday January 9

An inspiration of a totally different kind today as walk Maja to the next street to her office, then continue the walk. Within no time I’m deep in financial London early in the morning. Whatever the ills of the banking world, this place is just filled with electric and I can’t help but pick up on it all. Everyone is striding with a purpose, with an energy, with an ambition. With urgency. I’m totally disconnected from it all, yet find myself moving along in the same rhythms. A light rain adds to the immediacy of my constant motion surroundings, especially as not a single person seems to pay any attention to it, so determined are they on thoughts of the day or the next destination. This all feeds into my own vibrations and I take it in with growing exhilaration which feeds my own thoughts of the day and destinations. I round the huge, imposing, windowless building of the museum of the bank of England and head back home, to the new London nerve centre of The Diaries, my own nerve centre still wired and jangling. This feels alive.

Day 22

Thursday January 12

I finally get a good chunk of music time today and I really can’t quite believe how comfortable it feels to play bass. Not how good, as in, yay, I’m getting to play music again. I mean, how actually good. My movement is fine, dexterity, maybe fretboard knowledge and speed of improvisational thought aren’t quite so highly attuned, but I feel like I’ve hardly been away from this thing. Not sure how, but I’ll take it. I’ve barely played guitar at all in the past few months, apart from the Canal Turn, charity shop and Trap gigs and the minimal rehearsal we managed to squeeze out for them. And I’ve not touched the bass or anything at all in the studio for around three months. This getting back to it and feeling this good about playing really is a big deal because my next job on the album is checking out bass parts I’ve put on so far, tightening them up, and tightening them up with the drum parts we’ve made, and also possibly rerecording some parts that we think maybe could be better. In short, I’ve got to become a studio bass player again, and on first sight today, I’m already a good way there. My plan now is to take a few days to really properly level up my bass playing and to get back to a good understanding of what we’ve recorded and what I need to do with it.

Day 24

Saturday January 14

As we saw just after New Years, the wonderful neighbourhood of Angel is just a 20 minute walk away, straight at the end of the road once you’ve reached the edge of Shoreditch. This is where we’re headed tonight, just because we love Angel and have a few friends who work in The Camden Head bar there. But oh well. When we get to the Camden Head, no-one we recognise is on the bar or in the place, and it’s also uncomfortably full. To be fair, it is Saturday night. We try a few more bars, all with the same result until I say I know where to go in this situation. The Old Red Lion, a famous theatre pub. Maja’s never been. Well, yes, it is perfect. Just off the beaten track and with a cool atmosphere without being too ram packed, meaning we can get a table. 

Maja gets her first view of how special a place this is when a large group of girls comes in and all stand in a huddle almost in front of our table. Then one by one they begin to sing. Not chart topping hits in warbling voices. No. This is a full on theatrical musical number full of harmonies and all kinds of different types of interactive performance between them. Basically, we’re getting a section of a show right in front of us. Maja looks on wide eyed while the rest of the bar barely reacts as they continue their, er, theatrics. I take that as a sign that this is just normal goings on in here. Then they’re done, applause, but for them it was just a bit of fun as they dropped in. A few of them turn to us, especially Maja, a nod and a wink, then they’re off and disappear out to the back garden. We do not at all discover who they are, but it really wouldn’t surprise me if they’d just come straight from the stage somewhere in the West End and then performed right in front of us.

On the way down the main road out here we came across a keyboard stand someone had put out to be picked up. We checked it out and it was all in perfect order. So we decided if it was still there on our way home we’d take it. Well, here it is and we do indeed take it. So that’s how you get a keyboard stand around here. On we go and we drop off somewhere for a takeout. While in the queue, the guy behind us says, ‘Where’s your keyboard then?’ A pretty funny opening line. We tell him what we’ve just told you, then add that we’re hoping to use the keyboard we do have, on top of this, for midi drums for recording; we’re currently placing them one by one ourselves. There can often be a lot of copying involved for main rhythms, but there are also a lot of details, and the rhythms also have a lot going on, meaning we have to drop details into them as well. It can all be a painstaking process. I’m really hoping that if we can get the keyboard going and learn how to do it, this could be a much quicker and more fun way of getting our midi drums into our tracks. We don’t say all that to the guy of course, that was me taking the opportunity to explain some of our drumming system to you. We have a chat to this guy about music for a little while and he says he’s a keyboard player himself. Cool. We give him a card and we’re on our way. That could be a future connection or not, but the fact remains that we just had an involved conversation with a stranger, essentially on the street, about music and about The Diaries, and all just because we were carrying a keyboard stand we found on the street. 

And all that is as interesting as things get for our first full month back in London. The odd mildly interesting encounter, a few more bars and restaurants hit and the occasional gentle night out. And in between we drop in on our two favourite West End bars The Marquis and The White Hart once or twice.

Day 47

Monday February 6

Mark:

It’s my birthday. Did I mention Shoreditch has a Blues Kitchen? No? OK. Shoreditch has a Blues Kitchen. We’ve not been to it yet and tonight would be the perfect time to break that duck. I’ve only been here once before, that was ages ago and the place was rammed so I didn’t get to have much of a look round it. We do tonight and it really is bigger and more sprawling than the legendary Camden location we all know so well from Mark’s Diaries – if you’ve ever been there. It’s even got a vintage camper van placed inside it. An actual camper van that you can go and hang out in. Well, it’s not kitted out like a camper inside, but it’s still a pretty cool concept and a really cool semi private area out of the way of all the hustle, if you’re looking for that.

We do hang out in there for a little while, just because, then we go back out to the floor proper and find a table there. After a little while a waiter comes out bearing a birthday cake with a candle. I wonder if Maja had anything to do with that.

Day 49

Wednesday February 8

Mark:

We’re back in the Blues Kitchen again. We think it’s time we saw some live music and yep, they do that in here. We did also discover on Monday that Wednesday night was half price cocktail night, so of course we had to check that out. And the live band? Regular Blues Kitchen residents, The BKs. Featuring my old BK mate Kez on bass. As you would expect, the place is packed, so if we leave our table, we wouldn’t have one to come back to. So Kez comes over and says hello before the show. Wow. Really great to have made that connection again. Then he’s off. He has business on stage to attend to.

Day 50

Friday February 10

Another night out in the neighbourhood with Matt. No idea what bars we end up in.

Day 52

Sunday February 12

Mark:

It’s just an early Sunday evening walk out. Just a wander round the place to shake off a lazy day spent inside. Then we spot a rooftop bar. Oh, we have to go have a look. So we do. It’s in the hotel we came across in one of our first walks around here, but this time the bars are all open. So up to the roof we go for a drink in one of the most spectacular bar settings I’ve ever sat in as the illuminated skyline of London spreads itself out before us. 

Day 54

Tuesday February 14

Mark:

We have a full listen to our show at The Canal Turn from November. We’re really dropping in to see our my memory of fits reality. We remember it as being a great performance with a great reaction. Yep. We can confirm that it really is. So much so that we agree that yes, this could and should go out as a live album. It contains nine songs, but the audience and their reaction throughout really is a tenth track. And it’s just so representative of the best of the kind of shows we played during our time in Ireland. And it’s our last show, apart from our farewell show at The Trap the following month, but we didn’t manage to get a good recording of that. So, The Canal Turn it is. I think this show is even more representative than the show at The Trap anyway because it’s another time playing to people who have never heard anything from us before, but still they clap and cheer and sing along all night.

Day 56

Thursday February 16

Mark:

Late afternoon and my phone pings. Hi Mark. You playing anywhere these days? I’m in London. What? What now? This is from Bia, a great friend who I used to hang around a lot with in Cork way way way back, and then we lived together in what became the most amazing house of parties and music, right in the city centre. I stayed in that house for nearly seven years. She was and is also great friends with Amy. Bia left Cork a couple of years after we moved into that house and went to live in Brazil, where she still lives today. I haven’t seen her for almost 20 years although we have sporadically kept in touch throughout that time. But not enough to know she had plans to be in London. And now she’s turned up. Just like that. It takes me a little while to get my head around that, but then I’m like, no way. Just no way. Amazing!! I give her my number and have to say that, no there are no gigs just yet but that is deliberate. We arrange to meet tomorrow. In Shoreditch.

Day 57

Friday 17 February

Mark:

Well, here they are. Bia and her friend Cris, who speaks no English at all. The two girls have visited Portugal and are now in London for a week. It’s a huge moment when me and Maja round a corner near Old Street tube and there she is. I’m sure you can imagine the hello. Then introductions are made and we welcome them to our Shoreditch. Immediately they’re taken in by their surroundings as we venture further into the area. We head straight for a bar called The Angel where we set ourselves up at a table and just let the outpourings begin. But as for Bia, I thought there would be some mad story as to why they were here, but no. They just fancied a visit to London and Cris had never been to England, so here they are. 

Once they’ve settled and landed here, we go for a little walk around the area, which includes showing them our place and then Maja suggests we go to The Bridge Bar, the spectacular coffee shop type place which Matt introduced us to a few weeks ago. Once in there and we discover the back garden is full but we have the inside of the place to ourselves and me and Bia settle at the front by the street window while Maja and Cris get to know each other. Although they have no common language, those two have somehow really connected and they also spend a lot of their time dancing down the narrow strip of barfloor as me and Bia just hang out at our end of bar window seat. The mad thing is, there isn’t a lot of catching up or reminiscing. Of course a little, but essentially we’re just hanging out. After 20 years. Oh man it’s good to see her. And for her to see us, where we are, and to meet Maja. As we’re inside, we’re able to speak to the bar staff a little more than we would have done if we’d been out in the garden, and Rico, the owner, remembers me from a few weeks ago. We have a little bit of a chat and without me hustling, he says we should come and play here. Oh wow. Yes. I’ll return to talk to him about that when we’re ready, I tell him. I should stop doing this, but that’s prospective gig number five since we arrived and we haven’t even started looking yet. Now me and Bia get back to where we were and Maja and Cris just continue to dance it all away.

The two of them have a full London sightseeing day planned for tomorrow and will then meet other friends Bia has here, so we arrange to meet earlyish Sunday.

Day 58

Saturday 18 February

Mark:

We are not meeting earlyish Sunday. Per calls today. He lives in Alicante, Spain now but has just arrived back in London for a while. What is going on? Right. I guess we’re out tonight as well. He and his wife Weng are in Ain’t Nothin But… so we arrange to meet at a burger bar round the corner from there. We get the last table in the packed out place and Per and Weng soon come and join us and it’s the second epic hello in two days as they settle in here. Per’s in London for a while so we may manage another hang out or two, although he’ll apparently also be in Norway for a time before returning here, then making his way back to Alicante.

After we’re done here, we head off to The Marquis which is slam packed, but we find a great spot in the alcove out back. As the night goes on, people leave this alcove and aren’t replaced. So before long it looks like the place is totally full, but we have our own private party room back here. Over there, you can barely move across the floor. Back here we’ve got all the space we want. And oh yes, we use it. And as it gets later and later, HB, one of the barmen here, finishes and comes and joins us, bringing fellow staff member Jess. They slot right into our vibe as we kick it up just another notch. Anyone walking past on the street would think we have our own little private members club here, and that’s exactly what it feels like.

But yeah, during all this, any thoughts we had of being up and out anytime early tomorrow vanish. During the evening we pre-empt it and let Bia know we most likely won’t be joining them for their sightseeing walk. Instead, we’ll make new plans during the day tomorrow. 

Day 59

Sunday February 19

Mark:

Maja has the thought that when friends meet after a long time, or meet each other in different countries, once the sightseeing has been done, there’s nothing better than just hanging out in the host person’s house and just letting the evening wind along on your own terms. So that’s what we suggest. Hey guys, you want to come round ours. They do and they’re round a little after 7pm bearing wine and snacks.

This is just epic, and is all perfect company and the perfect setting for me and Maja to mark two years to the day since we met.

In the calm surroundings of our own apartment, we recount some of what we’ve done to Bia who relays it to Cris. We’ve played almost a hundred shows, done two European tours, and moved house four times, in the process changing country twice. We’ve also written an album and a whole lot more songs.

As for that album, yes it’s dragging on, but today we completed the backing tracks for the first nine songs. Now we have to begin the recording of the final three. One of which we’d already recorded, but then scrapped everything after deciding on a new arrangement. One has timing issues so has presented a few recording challenges and we only now really feel up to tackling that one. And there’s a new song which we decided to put on relatively recently. 

Oh, and as you’ve seen, only this week we decided to release a live album from one of our last shows in Ireland.

And of course, we’ve written about all of these adventures in The Diaries which, in the past few days, has passed the 300,000 word mark; for reference as to how much that is, take the Harry Potter books The Prisoner of Azkaban and The Goblet Of Fire – 953 pages combined – and we’re a few thousand words beyond that.

The evening winds on wonderfully and when the time’s right, the guitar comes out and we play a few songs for them. Bia is a true music lover and revels in this private show, as does Cris. A truly magical night. 

Day 63

Thursday February 23

Mark:

Our friends’ London visit is over on Friday and they have a few other things on their itinerary before then. Bia is of course very keen to see Amy while she’s here and we’ve already been on it with arranging that. We’ve planned to meet tonight in Covent Garden. At Kristoff’s The White Hart, and we’ll take it from there.

We do indeed do that and I’m anticipating a quiet enough bar for a table and a catchup, but when we arrive the place is already so full you can barely walk through it. So alternative plans have to be quickly made. Bia is here with Cris and two other people. Telma, Bia’s cousin who lives in London now and who I met many years ago in Cork when she was over from Brazil and the three of us hung out almost every day for a week. And Bia’s nephew Otavio is here, who arrived from Brazil today and this is his first ever time in England. It’s all so packed that Maja and Amy wait outside while I go in and find the others. They’ve still got drinks, so it’s agreed that Maja and Amy will go and find another place for us and I’ll bring the five of us to meet them there. Cool. We have a plan. Kinda. As we’re leaving, I’m very happy to be able to briefly introduce Bia to Kristoff. While this is a little meeting of two of my friends, I think it’s just really cool for Bia to meet the manager of such a busy central London pub while it’s right in the midst of full busyness.

Now onto the place the others have found and they have done so well, finding us a corner table in a seafood restaurant called Lowlander Grand Cafe that is happy to accommodate us for just drinks, although we assure them that some of us will be ordering food, which does indeed happen. But very piecemeal, which works out really well in a casual kind of way as the place bustles all around us. The restaurant staff also get to hear that this is a 20 year reunion and they really do their best to look after us. And yes, here we are. Myself, Bia and Amy. Together again for the first time in all that time. I lived with two of them at different times, although there was a period when Bia spent a lot of time at the house while Amy lived there, and of course we were all on the same Cork scene at the same time. Telma’s also part of the reunion as well, and then there’s Otavio who really can’t take it in. He’s just 19. He wasn’t even born the last time we all saw each other. The concept of him, from now, having a long friendship with someone, then saying goodbye, and then meeting them again 20 years later, just about explodes his head. It’s just about exploding all of ours to be fair and the fizz of that effervesces and emanates all around our jubilant table and beyond.

When it’s time to leave, we wind through the streets to Tottenham Court Lane station. Hardly a long distance departure point, but it might as well be for us. This is where we say goodbye to Bia and Cris and, accompanied by Amy, they’ve soon disappeared down the escalators. It’s a sad yet joyful farewell. Such an amazing week and so incredible to have been reunited again. It’s at this point you often say to friends something like, let’s not leave it so long next time. But not tonight. It’s possible we won’t leave it 20 years, but with around 6000 miles and two oceans separating us, it’s fair to say we won’t be meeting for coffee any time soon.

Day 64

Friday February 24

Oh dear. Today we both start to feel a bit sick, which develops into being laid up for the next week and a bit beyond. I guess you could say we timed that pretty well. It really wouldn’t have been fun if this had happened last week.

Day 73

Sunday March 5

Mark:

For the first time in a while we both feel good and kind of up for stuff, so we go out for a walk right into the city. First stop is the old original London now encompassing much of the financial district as we revisit the London Wall for the first time since we had one of our profile pictures taken here shortly before we left for Ireland and after a particularly memorable and eventful few days. That would the first part of The London Diary: The Last Two Weeks, and encompassing the last part of the previous Diary. This is the old Roman wall and parts of its original construction can still be seen, which go right back to 200AD. Even some of the more recent parts date back to Medieval times when some of the original Roman Wall was incorporated into what was built as the city defences of the time.

After this monument, we stay on the history trail with a visit to The Cheshire Cheese Pub on the famous old media home of Fleet Street. I’ve been wanting to show Maja this for some time, and it’s long been on my list of destinations for visiting friends. Not only does this pub date back to before the Great Fire of London of 1666, but it’s one of the few public buildings to have parts of it that survived and can still be used. This is because those parts are underground, and down there we go, traversing original narrow stone steps into what look like ancient stone cellar rooms, probably because they are ancient cellar rooms. This place winds down and down through those narrow staircases and is made up of so many little slightly darkened warrens. A truly dramatic and privileged location for a pint and, being on Fleet Street and still in much of its original carnation, an old favourite of so many of those legendary old newspaper warriors of print. Well, hopefully we keep up it’s tradition of freedom of spirit and creativity as we set ourselves up at a table in the middle of one of the larger warrens and have a discreet rehearsal, going acapella through some of our newer songs, and revising a few older ones we’ve not done for a while. What better usage of a pint or two?

Then it’s off to China Town where we wander to the fringes on Shaftesbury Avenue to find an authentic Korean barbecue restaurant – Olle Korean Barbecue.

After such a great comeback day from both being sick for a while, what better timing to book the first actual concrete date of an offer for a London show. As you know, we’re really not looking to start playing until April 4 when Maja finishes the probation with her new job. However, my friend Alex who runs the Dial Up Club, with whom I used to play in the house band, gets in touch to invite us to play his next event at the Deli Theatre. Practically next to The Gherkin. And it’s this coming Thursday. Brilliant. Just like that, we’re on.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, day 77

Day 77

Thursday March 9, 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So here’s the musical.

And that website for the guys again

https://adlibretto.com/

The London Diary: Shoreditch, days 78 to 111

Day 78

Friday March 10, 2023

A little visit to The Old Red Lion in Angel tonight. It’s a great bar. What can I say? And the staff are starting to become just a little bit familiar to us and vice versa which I think is kinda cool.

Day 80

Sunday March 12

Just a great London walk today as we go from our eastern place all the way across central and on to St James’ Park then Hyde Park, taking in Buckingham Palace on the way. Then to take advantage of the great public transport here. As soon as we think we’ve walked about as far as we can, or want to, we just find a bus and ride it all the way back home.

Day 86

Saturday March 18

We take a walk out and Maja, mischievously, seems to have a destination and a plan in mind but she isn’t saying, although she does make sure we stop off to buy some notebooks. Our destination is Ye Grapes in Mayfair, a fantastic bar in a setting that seems totally apart from the rest of the city. Leaving the main road and coming into Mayfair is like wandering into an old style village. Another one of those times when you suddenly feel like you’re on holiday and a tourist in your own town. Yeah, London is doing that a lot to us. Once we’re sat in the generous March sun outside the bar, Maja gets the notebooks out and says, ‘We’re going to write now.’ Oh. OK. With that, we really do start. And for the next considerable while we take our time to write a whole page or lyrics each, at the same time, then when we’re both done, we read what we’ve written to each other. A quite brilliant Saturday bar activity and we complete three full pages each and yeah, we really might have some potential songs there.

We’ve timed things on our walk and been in touch with Per and Maja made sure to give us plenty of time to ourselves before we had company because she really wanted to follow through with that plan. It all connects almost perfectly as we finish our session, the sun goes in, we go in and then not too long after that we’re joined by Per and Saturday afternoon and evening just winds by comfortably on our own time.

Day 88

Monday March 20

Mark:

I told you there were discoveries to be made here. Maja calls me towards the end of the day and pulls me out with Andri, one of her colleagues. He says we’re going for a drink at a roof bar. We wonder where it could be. Well, just a few streets away from us and still very much in our immediate neighbourhood he turns a corner and declares that we’re here. A non-descript door set just a little way back with a discreet sign giving just a hint there may be a public business here. We’ve walked past here loads of times and never seen it. In we go and straight into a lift. Which rides up and opens onto a long, elegant restaurant/bar type setting. Which has large windows all the way along its right hand wall. And these windows look right across the cityscape. It’s past sundown and the lights of all the buildings form an incredible backdrop for our impromptu Monday evening.

Day 89

Tuesday March 21


Mark:

Zaid and Maja finally get to meet as we arrange a trip to his area of Clapham. It’s so great to see him and the energy’s high, taken to another level as the two of them hit it off massively and immediately as our table soon becomes a three person party. He’s been running live and original music events in London since the Britpop years and quite possibly before. How long before I’m not sure but he’s something of an institution and, hugely gregarious, known by just about everybody. To me, he seems happiest when creating a stage and a scene for the talent to come in and do their thing. 

We’re going to be all round this town tonight with Zaid as our faithful guide to his home area. But before we head off, he has something for us. With some ceremony, he produces an envelope, removes the sheet of paper contained inside then opens it up on the table before us. This is a handwritten list of contacts he has made just for us. What a fantastic gesture and what a treasure. We carefully place it in our own bag, and yes, we will most definitely be working through it. Thankyou very much. Now to keep this party going and hit the town. We take it deep.

Day 90

Wednesday March 22

Maja’s off to Sweden. With that, we come to the beginning of the end of the beginning. As soon as she gets back, the beginning will have ended and we’ll be getting on it.

Soon after arriving at the airport, Maja sends me a photograph of the large backdrop in one of the souvenir shops. It contains two street scenes. One of a famous Camden Town landmark bridge, and one from Brick Lane of Shoreditch. 

Day 97

Wednesday March 29

Maja was supposed to be away until sometime mid to late April but things have changed and she tells me she’s coming back this Tuesday, two weeks early. This also means she’ll have to return to Sweden in early May and stay there for much of that month, but it also means we’re now available to gig from Friday April 7. Finally, we’re on.

Day 101

Sunday April 2

A little Sunday day trip to the White Hart and Kristoff’s set aside some time in his busy weekend to talk to me to see what we can do about playing here. We quickly settle on Tuesday the 18th. So, first chat and first full London gig booked. 

Day 103

Tuesday April 4

I have a few, I think, semi open people to try to visit today  so I head out to see what I can make happen there. First stop is the Bridge Bar to try to meet Rico. The place is closed when I get there but I see Rico and a few people inside down at the end and give a little knock. Rico comes out and is quite generous with a smile as he ushers me in. I remind him of when he suggested we come and play here and he says yes, he remembers. Then, with a slight and dismissive air of weary  doubt and cynicism, he says, ‘Can you show me anything of you guys?’ Yeah sure. This is the first time I’ve been asked this and I do stop to think what I’m going to show as I open up our Youtube channel. This doubt and decision making all flashes through my mind quite quickly as I know I have to jump on this immediately, and I settle on our medley video, which is this one.

Almost immediately Rico’s eyes widen and his voice, as of up to now so authoritative, quietens. ‘Oh,’ he says slowly. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’ I’ve run my own events, and had local original band submissions as a music journalist and worked with many people in considering new acts. I’ve even dabbled in the A&R world. his reaction is far beyond anything I’ve ever seen from anybody watching or listening to any new band. I stop the video and he looks up. His eyes are now wide and infused with a whole new, yes, excitement. ‘Come, come,’ he says. ‘You have to show the other guys this.’ So he leads me down the bar to his two companions, calling out ahead of us, ‘You guys, you have to see this. Show them. Show them.’ I do and they take it in with Rico’s infectious enthusiasm. Now he really begins. ‘It looks like you’re made of music,’ he says. ‘The guitar looks like it’s part of you. And the girl. She looks and sounds fantastic. You have a good speaker and microphone, yes? Because we will really want her voice to be heard properly in here. How do you get paid? What do you want from us?’ Then I tell him we want nothing but their space and the permission to do the hat. ‘Of course, of course. What a great idea,’ he continues. ‘You must make a lot of money.’ Well, yes, we have had a few nice results. ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Now he starts to think about when to get us in, saying he wants to have a nice crowd for us. The long, narrow bar isn’t quite right so he says, ‘I would like to put you outside. In the garden at the back.’ So he suggests we wait until the weather is reliable and consistently hot, and then I should come back. This is definitely a summer thing, he says. So maybe June. Yep. Come back in June. Brilliant. Yes, I leave that place absolutely buzzing to the best reaction I’ve ever had to a hustle even though it didn’t result in a solid booking. Oh, just wait until Maja hears about this.

With the winds of that encounter blowing in my sails, my tail is most definitely up as I head for Deli Theatre where I find Aneirin behind the bar. He also remembers me and our performance with some enthusiasm and as soon as I talk bookings and what we want to do, he’s there. No problem. When do we want to do it? But then he remembers a few things they have already on and suggests a date in mid May but Maja’s away for most of that month. So we settle on June. It’s far enough away so no set date and he says these kinds of things have to go through a few other people as well, but assures me we’ll get it done. So yeah. The same as Rico, leave it a while and then come back. And again, we’re looking at June. Great. Thankyou very much. 

I’ve had two pretty good results there so I call time on the street hustle and head back home to start making calls to some of the numbers Zaid gave us the other night. One or two people aren’t in the game anymore and others aren’t answering right now, but a guy called Mike does. His event is Acoustify and it’s a series of open mics all over London. We have a brief chat and he’s warm and friendly and happy to hear from a friend of Zaid’s. He books his open mic slots so that they’re mostly organised ahead of time. What would you call that? I’ve seen this a little now and I’m not entirely sure but I do like the concept. I’ve been calling it curated open mic but even that doesn’t quite work because the open part of it still isn’t really there. It is more an extended lineup but try putting that on a poster. Anyway, he says he has an event this Sunday in Dalston, and another on Thursday in Fulham. He’s happy to put us down for both of them right now. Brilliant. Do you want me to send you something? ‘No need,’ he says. ‘You’re a friend of Zaid’s, he’s given you my number to get in touch, you’re in.’ Wow. Just like that. Fantastic. So now, when Maja gets back tonight I’ll be able to tell her, first about Rico. Oh, I have to tell her about Rico. Then yeah, that and Deli, so two solid leads for gigs in June, and then I’ll be saying we’re playing this Sunday and next Thursday. Oh, I’m sure you can imagine she already knows, but yeah, The White Hart is in the book too. And the venues for June. I think Maja’s going to be happy to come back to that. A nice little first evening back.

But…

Over in Sweden they’re having delays and not much information, and that which does come through is conflicting and confusing with the 11pm flight at one point pushed back to 1:30am. In any case, she’s going to be arriving hope sometime middle of the night. She finally gets home at 4:30am. She’s due to be back in the office at nine. Ouch.

Day 104

Wednesday April 5

We’ve both kind of been up all night and now Maja’s off to the office. For me, I’m off to my outside office as I’ve decided today is my first day out on the real hustle, visiting bars completely cold. 

As usual with these things I wait until afternoon, hitting bars after lunch has been done and they have their lull before they pick up again early evening. I’m walking around our local areas of Shoreditch and Hoxton and I cover over five kilometres, quite a bit of it in a gentle but persistent rain. In the time I manage to visit ten bars, with one that I really wanted to pitch to being closed for a private party. Out of those ten, only three have managers there and available to talk to. Two seemed mildly interested left the door open for me to return sometime, while one manager was really kind and interested personally, and watched the video, but said we most definitely were not right for his venue. Looking at it from the outside, I thought we would have been, but when he tells me of the cool chill club vibe he’s going for, I agreed that yeah, we weren’t what he was looking for. It’s the nicest kind of rejection and we part with all good wishes.

Overall, I have to say it feels a bit like an empty, dispiriting hustle day, suitably mirrored by the gently consistent rain I’ve been slowly dampening in. But I have to keep reminding myself that no managers were around so there really isn’t anything I was able to do about it. All you can do is keep knocking on those doors. And besides, of the three I did speak to, two of them are still in play. So I guess that’s OK.


Then later the phone rings and it’s someone from Clara who saw us play at The Trap. The guy’s got my number and wants to book us for a children’s party. I’m not sure how, but he had no idea we’d moved to London and sounds disappointed as he says he was really looking forward to it and now wishes us all the best. Wow. You really just have to love that.

Day 106

Thursday April 7

A walk out to Hackney today, mainly because I want to check out a farm cafe we found and had tea and cake in a few weeks ago when on a walk out this way to check out Victoria Park. Really, just because we discovered it’s the closest park to us. And farm. No, we’re not thinking the big rolling hills and the cows of our immediate Ireland surroundings – oh I do miss that just a little. No. This is a city farm. A small patch of green, all very well fenced in in between a bunch of busy roads. They have a whole bunch of farmyard animals, a load of vegetable patches and, in the middle of all this, a charming very rustic feeling cafe. And we saw they advertised live music. I walk in today to see what that’s all about. I’m keenly met by Gianluca who says it’s once a week and they look to pay a certain amount for two 45 minute sets, or something like that. I tell him we’re not that kind of act so that won’t work for us, but why don’t I tell him what we do do. Go for it. This gets him thinking and he comes back with, ‘Would it work if we put together a bill of original acts based around you guys doing something?’ They would pay the same, so we could all share it out, and meals and drinks are in the offer too. Yep. Sounds good. He adds, ‘We’ve never done anything like that here, but yeah. Let’s do it. Let’s make it happen.’ Oh wow. It looks like I’ve just opened up a new London venue possibility for original acoustic acts. Like I said, you’ve just got to hit the street and keep knocking on doors. So many people will knock you back, but eventually you will meet a Gianluca. Then once you’ve done that, knock on a whole load more until you find another one. Sing and repeat. He says he’ll try to put a bill together himself, but if I have anyone I know who could be interested, he’d appreciate it if I could send them his way. Of course. We set a provisional date of June 1.

I reach Hackney and hit a few bars, but either managers aren’t in or I decide they’re already a little too busy to hit. I also find at least one lovely venue run by lovely people which is just a bit too small. A shame. I was expecting more out of Hackney. I must be looking in the wrong places. It’s raining now anyway, and starting to get more insistent, so time to go home. Well at least I got Hackney Farm, and one result per hustle is a perfectly acceptable strike rate as far as I’m concerned. Hey, if you can go out with nothing and get back home and you’ve got a gig, that has to be cool, right? I’m doing a fast walk for a bus that I don’t quite have to run to catch but I do have to, er, hustle, when I suddenly see a large industrial fence under the bridge I’m passing through and there’s a sign on it advertising a venue somewhere on the other side of it. Oh. I ignore the bus, and the by now quite heavy rain, and take a few hesitant steps into what looks like a large, long, industrial yard next to higher up railway tracks. Oh again. I now see what it is. Stretching far into the distance are railway arches. Inside six or seven of them is a variety of bars and nightclubs. How cool is this? It’s back on. I walk along what is probably wrong to call a promenade, but what are you going to do? Searching for possibilities, I see they’re all too busy to approach right now so I keep going. When I get to the end, I discover there’s even more if I take a turn to the right and go round the back of this thing. Talk about being off the beaten track. Next to the track. Back there I find a yard type area. No other way to describe it. A few benches over the other side. And in the middle, a lorry/shipping container. Yep. One of those corrugated looking things. It’s had the top half of one side knocked out and the whole thing’s been turned into a bar. Not a bar you go in and sit down and drink in. I mean the part the people serving you stand behind. Kind of where I used to do a lot of standing behind only way cooler. Actually yes, make that properly cooler because it’s freezing right now. And raining. So it’s handy that this thing has some kind of awning covering out front. I go and say hi to the guy running it and, as I usually do, ask if he’s the manager. He is. Right. One little thing. Whenever I go into a bar, the very first person I encounter, no matter how young looking they appear to be, I ask if they’re the manager. Because you just never know. This guy isn’t at all young looking, I just thought this was as good a time as any to make that point; in about a million and a half words of writing in these Diary things – yep, that truly is about right – I’ve never made that point before.

I make my pitch and he goes into consider mode before saying, ‘We’ve never had music here before, but I don’t see why not.’ I ask if he’d like to see a little of the video I have cued and he says, ‘I’m on the phone right now.’ He is. I just hadn’t noticed. He’d very generously taken the little amount of time he was on hold to talk to me. No worries. I step back and let him get on with his call, as I can see it’s proceeding again now. I wait. And wait. And get wetter. And wetter. Yes, he does have that canopy/ awning thing but I think it would be polite to not be hovering in earshot of his phone call. I think this goes on for about 20 minutes but all the time I’m like, that’s OK, I’m about to have a chat entrepreneurial hustler to entrepreneurial hustler. A meeting of the minds between two guys who just get out there, take the knocks, and try to make things happen. He hangs up and I approach the bar again. He looks up as though he’s never seen me before. Fair enough. I had my phone out and was scrolling through stuff. ‘Oh, sorry,’ I say. I was just trying to call up my diary. I was. ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘I’m not going to be booking anything now. I’ve got your card. I’ll have a look and give you a call if I’m interested.’ Oh. Again. And that’s that. To be totally fair, in any scheme of things, he’s done nothing wrong. But I can’t help but feel just a little led on. And in this weather too. Not impressed. Maybe he’ll get back, maybe he won’t. There are plenty of other places to hustle. If I’m round these parts again, I may drop in and say hi and see where he is with it, but…You know, no buts. I don’t think I’m going to do the incessant bar chasing again. Not like I did with The Insiders where I’d hammer and hammer at the tiniest possibility of an opening. If a door’s properly left open and I really think a dialogue has opened – see Rico, I will be – then yeah. But this? Maybe it’s cos I’m soggy and getting soggier and it’s partly his fault, but yeah, I do feel led up and let down.

Day 107

Saturday April 8

We find ourselves in Kentish Town today sometime after eight as we’re getting together for a little with my friend Cris who I used to live with in the Carrol. Before that we got to know each other from the jam scene, then I played with his heavy metal band The Wild Child, including gigs in Italy, then I worked for him on his building sites when I took a hiatus from pub world as my gigging and rehearsing diary was starting to get too busy to fit around an evening job. Of course Maja knows him well too, and it’s a lovely hang.

The route is a tube to Ktown then a walk up to his place, what used to also be our place, and before that, my place. For six years. The last time we were here, we were dismayed when we went to check out The Oxford and discovered it had closed down, or at least looked like it had. It all appeared desolate, sad, and broken. This is the bar I worked at full full full time for my first year in London. Oh, it felt like I was living in the place at times. Customers just to actually jokingly ask if I did because they started to feel like I was never not there. I grew to love the place, got to know all the regulars and count some of them as friends, and continued to go there as a regular myself after leaving. So it’s a massive part of my own London fabric. We’re really keen to just swing by tonight to see if it’s still closed, or if it’s managed to open again and if so, how it’s doing.

We walk in through the side door – on Islip Street if you care to check it out – and a guy sitting at a high table facing the door smiles at us. Then he leaves his seat and walks around the table to walk towards us. It appears they take their greetings seriously round here. ‘Mark, isn’t it?’ he asks. ‘Er…yes.’ ‘Hi Mark.’ And he gives me a good solid handshake. I can’t style my way out of this one. ‘I’m really sorry. Do I know you? It looks like I should.’ ‘We met at the 100 hour jam,’ he says. ‘You were the guy who did the whole thing.’ Oh. Wow. ‘It’s Steve,’ he continues. I tell him again I’m really sorry but I don’t remember. He adds that it was quite deep in and things may well have been a bit blurry for me around then. I’ll say now that just after we leave, I have a Doh! moment when I suddenly do remember. And yes, I also remember it being significant at the time as I was told that Steve, one of the actual owners of the Blues Kitchen, was in the house and I was taken over specifically to be introduced to him. We have a little bit of a chat now and I ask him what the story is with this place now. Oh, it’s called The Parakeet now by the way. We did see that on the way in, I just forgot to tell you. Well, Steve is the new owner and it only recently opened and he says it’s going very well. It certainly is. It’s packed right now, all the way through to the end of what used to be the restaurant. And I tell him how, madly coincidentally, I used to work here. No, practically live here. Now the owners of The Blues Kitchen, the place I made my second home in London, if The Oxford was actually my first home, own this place. While we’re chatting, and while I have the opportunity, I tell him what we’re doing, give him a card, and pitch about what we’re looking to do. Would that be something he would be open to? He gives me his own card and writes someone else’s email on it. ‘Email this guy,’ he says, and gives me a card for the overall company, The Columbo Group. Apart from this new bar The Parakeet, the also owns a whole load of iconic London places including The Blues Kitchens, and Camden’s Jazz Cafe, while also running a few prestigious festivals. Now I have to ask, and I go cautious because it could come out sounding all wrong. ‘I know I can’t really use your name when contacting him because we really don’t know each other, but would he somehow know where I’m coming from or … who I am?’ That who I am sounds all wrong and I should tell you I’m very halting and hesitant when saying it. I’m really just wondering if, having been given this contact by one of the very owners of the group, there’s some way my email would be properly seen and considered. ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ says Steve. ‘He’ll know. You’re a legend within the company for what you did at the 100 hours jam. Everyone knows who you are.’ Oh wow. If there’s ever a time you want your girlfriend at your side to hear someone talking about you to you. And yes, she heard it.

Oh, and I’m assuming knowledge here. What was the 100 hours jam and what exactly did I do at it? 

What it was:

Well, it happened in June 2019 at The Blues Kitchen and was the longest non-stop open jam ever. Hundreds of musicians took part from June 9 to June 13 with the criteria being that the music on stage did not stop. So musicians would swap in and out one at a time.

What I did:

I was the only person there for the whole 100 hours and I was on stage for a total of over 24 hours. I started this thing with an unbroken awake period of 66 hours – no. No drugs at all. There are people to this day who still don’t believe it but it’s true. After that first period, I slept for six hours in a room which was specially provided for me upstairs. Immediately after that I was on stage for another two hours. I had two more sleeps before the conclusion – naps really; one of two hours and one of one hour. So for the 100 hours, I slept for a total of nine hours. And at the end I was invited on stage to play in the finale as the clock counted down to zero.

For my account of the whole thing, you can go here.

And for verification, there’s this: 

https://www.worldrecordsofmusic.com/open-jams

And there are these quite wonderful videos.

Day 108

Sunday April 9

OK, we did Dial Up. A month ago to the day. March 9. But with that only having two real punters in attendance, and possibly even only one by the time we started, I think we’re really starting today and I’m seeing this as our first real London performance, although you could validly say it was Dial Up. But in any case, this is where we’re really beginning as The Diaries are officially open for business now in a way in which we weren’t on March 9. I feel we’re more among a London crowd here tonight as well, in Copper Cats, Dalston. This, I think, is where we’re going to be tested by fire for the first time. The first time our impression of ourselves makes contact with reality in London. How will we really measure up? For myself, I’m not nervous as such, just filled with adrenaline and absolutely raring to go as we pitch ourselves in this environment of people who have seen, and continue to see, all the best up and comers. Although it might be a friendly audience of singer/songwriters and people who want to see such shows, it takes a lot to impress, especially as these people know how it’s done. I think singer/songwriters are by far the friendlier crowd as a general group, but I do still often see this as comedians performing in front of comedians. Many of them are almost famously competitive and reluctant to laugh at other people’s jokes. So yeah, I want to absolutely hit the ground running in here, smash it and overwhelm. Nervous? No. But I do feel a strange kind of pressure to prove ourselves at what I see as a different level to what we’ve ever played before. We’re in London. We’re in the real arena now. This is where it really begins.

Into the venue and we’re told who Mike is and he comes to greet us very warmly after having chatted on the phone a few times. ‘And you’re Maja,’ he says, seeing our rockstar for the first time.

After that, we settle in, enjoy the show, and wait to be called. Just as I suspected, some of the songs on display are truly fantastic, if a little more on the downbeat side. There’s a keyboard singer/songwriter who comes on and warns us to be ready for a few depressing songs, adding that he has a few about heartbreak. Not exactly what you want to be prepped for when you’re waiting to be entertained. But entertain he really does. I just wish he hadn’t made such a low hearted intro. It kind of rolled the energy out of his prospective audience. You want them to be up for you, surely, not put down by you. However, he plays and sings with such passion and power that I’m won over and I think he gets pretty much everyone else as well, although Maja says, ‘Imagine having to sing lyrics like that all the time.’ Fair enough, but there is a big market for it.

A few more acts and it’s our turn and we give Mike our wireless connections for the sound desk. Again tonight, we’re doing our thing of letting other people choose our songs from a secret pile of 10. We’re confident that every one of them will smash. Well, let’s see. The first one picked out is My Game, My Rules. Maja seizes upon the moment to introduce us and the song, saying, ‘This is my game, and this is my rules.’ It begins with a fast, heavy metal influenced guitar riff. I am so wound up to get started. Pulled taut like a catapult. Now I get to feel my release. It comes hard. Way too hard. Oh man we are fast but, caught up in the moment and filled with adrenaline and suddenly released onto the playing field after straining at leashes to get out there, I don’t feel it. What I do feel is that somehow the guitar now feels really hard to play and my rhythms just aren’t quite there. This is because I’m kind of unaware that I’m playing so fast I’m not able to be fully in control. But we’re still doing it, although Maja is really caught up in this too and, together and separately, we roam the room with domination. Many of our songs are already designed to be fast smashers, and this is one of them. To ramp it up so much is to go deep into the red zone. That’s where we are now and Maja can barely keep up. So much so that words get lost to the extent that the entire second verse ends up being a rerun of the first. By any measure, we are really making a mess of this but the train is already at full momentum rolling down the hill and there’s no way to stop it or slow it down. That’s the really weird thing sometimes. It’s often far easier to speed a song up than to slow it down. Especially when the guitarist doesn’t really feel things are going too fast, but they undoubtedly are. But somehow, it really doesn’t matter. The audience before us is swept away by the energy and electricity of our performance as we ignore and smash through all self placed obstacles and just continue to storm the thing as though everything is just as it should be. I guess that’s what two European tours and almost a hundred shows does to you. You’re just conditioned to carry on no matter what. When we finish, the reaction is loud and very enthusiastic. And maybe a little shocked. Wow. We’re in. I think we kinda got away with it. Let’s go again. The next song pulled out is Make Me Shine. Seriously? This is even more intense than My Game My Rules, and yes, once again we launch into it far too quickly, or rather, I do. Unfortunate because this song has rapid almost rap like verses. Which Maja is of course singing in a second language. Again, this song, performed as it should be, is already fast enough. Right now it is not being performed as it should be and, as with the previous song, Maja once again gets caught up in the lyrics. But once again, she gets away with it, although it must be clear we’re having some frantic levels of communication going on. But again, it fully lands and the shouts go up as we smash into the end of the song and stand there breathing heavily at the exertion this performance is demanding of us. We are playing fast and in this thinly scattered audience of about 15 people, we really are giving everything. As the next song is being picked, Mike calls out, ‘Could you perform this one with a bit more energy please?’ The laughter in the room is immediate. He is clearly enjoying himself and that is so good and encouraging to see.

Now we’re informed that our last song is to be How You RocknRoll. After the last two this feels almost tame, and I’ve finally caught myself and lead off with something at least resembling the pace of how this is supposed to be played. And, with the more assured performance we slip into this time, it really shows, especially when we come to the a capella part and I go into audience clapping mode and they completely come along with us. Yes, I think we’ve done something here. As we finish and the applause rings out, I walk across the floor to our seats and say out loud, ‘We’re in London now.’

At our table, one of the performers looks over to us with a massive smile and says, ‘That wasn’t a show, that was a workout.’ Yes, it was. When it’s all over a few performances later, someone else comes up to us and asks where we’re playing next. When we tell him it’s with Mike again, in Bishops in Fulham on Thursday, he says, ‘You guys are going to blow up there.’

Now it’s time to leave and we decide to walk home rather than get the bus like we did on the way down here. It’s a fantastic evening walk with Shoreditch at the end of this straight road. As such, the whole way, we are walking towards the bright city skyscape. In the context of what we’ve done tonight, more than any other walk towards those iconic buildings, this feels epic.

Day 111

Wednesday April 12

We’ve just had the four day Easter weekend so I think bar managers will be even more elusive this week than they usually are, so probably best to leave the hustle trail for a few days. And by the time they are out in the open again, it will be weekend preparations again, so I’ll probably be leaving the hustling alone this week.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, day 112

Day 112

Thursday April 13

Having seen us do our thing on Sunday, Mike has decided we’re the show closers tonight in Bishops in Fulham, south London. This is a really classy venue and again, he’s put together a solid lineup and we sit back and enjoy the evening until it’s our turn. As soon as we start, the crowd is with us. Totally. And not just the musicians. A whole bunch of non participating regulars are here too and they really go for it as we once again get the audience to pick out the songs we’re going to play. I think Mike really gets this and the statement it sends out. First song to prove yourselves? Pick one. Last song to really close the show strong? Pick one. The order tonight is Nobody Said, Six Sense Lover, My Game My Rules then How You RocknRoll. I’m really glad My Game My Rules came out because I really wanted to make amends on this one after the speedfest of Sunday. And this time out, Mike is really seeing us as our usual assured and solid selves. There’s no rehearsal or growing experience like live and Sunday was a bit of a shock for us and I’ve spent time since then really getting into the tempos of the songs again and holding myself back to trust them. That they don’t need to be smashed out. Like I said the other day, they’re already designed that way. They were literally written to be pulled out and smashed into difficult and even hostile environments. That was always going to be our path as, right from the beginning, we set out to play bars that were not live music venues, or at least not original live music venues. 

Out there at the tables tonight, people are banging their heads and rocking and so many are also trying to sing along. And again, none of them have ever heard these songs before. And the energy becomes cyclical as the whole synergy between us and audience fills the room. But really, it starts with us as we have to front it out at the beginning and take it to them. And I can feel it as we do. As we leave the stage and stand in the middle of the room, then loom over the tables, I can feel it. ‘Almost arms folded, ‘who the hell are these guys and what the hell are they doing?’” But bravado and front will only take you so far. It’s when you can back it up that they really come with you. And they really come with us.

And tonight we have the first audience member to have our album title written on the back of his hand in the same way we wear it when we go out live. HEJ – with a backwards J. Damn, I’ve got so used to looking at ours, that this actual ‘J’ looks backwards to me now. His name is Robert and he is all over us in the best possible way. He admits to sitting back a bit at the beginning. It starts, and he thinks, ‘These guys are going to be terrible.’ A bit into it and it’s like, ‘OK, they can play, but really?’ The cynic isn’t letting go. But then. ‘All of a sudden I realised I was singing along.’ That was when his thoughts switched and he was absolutely with us from that moment on, and now it feels like we’ve got a fan. Then he says it. ‘You guys belong on the Jools Holland Show. That’s the next thing for you.’ Now, there’s saying you’re good and you enjoyed it and there’s saying, this is really serious. Yes. We are. Robert, thankyou very much. 

Now to say goodbye after Mike’s closed the show with a really cool cover performance joined by his singer friend. As he comes out to give us a huge hug goodbye, in the process saying, ‘You guys are amazing,’ he adds, ‘Anytime you want to play, just let me know and I’ll put you down.’ Great. We’re in. No booking, no need. We just keep an eye out, pick out an event of his we like the look of and we’re on it. We really do want to keep this London open mic thing going and the two shows with Mike – set up thanks to Zaid and his list – have been the very best start we could have hoped for.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, day 116

Day 116

Sunday April 16

We decide to soundcheck at The White Hart. One of the reasons is to see if we can go through their house system because it really is a big and long venue. Secondly, we’re thinking we could use it to advertise ourselves for Tuesday. We arrange this with Kristoff and head on down there for around 6pm. First off, we discover after a while that we can’t go through the system because that requires a powered mixing desk which we don’t have. So our own stuff it is. That discovery made and we announce who we are and what we’re doing, then it’s into a few songs starting with I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). By the time we do this we have three tables in the place, so not a massive audience. Hardly any reaction. We try two more songs, both to pretty much nothing and call it a day. Oh well. We conclude we’ve caught Sunday afternoon hungover vibes and people just want to chill and aren’t at all ready for our in your face, shock and awe approach right now. Could we have gone for a quieter, more chilled set and would that have worked better. We do discuss this as we walk through central Covent Garden and down to The Marquis once we’ve packed up but we conclude that it’s hard to call in the moment but even if that had worked for that crowd, that’s not the side we wanted to show of ourselves. But having had this experience, maybe it would be better to slowly bring people in on Tuesday rather than running in and smashing it out. OK. That’s something to think about.

Into The Marquis and Tommy’s out front and in great form having just had a full on afternoon with The Pop Tarts cover duo rocking the place. The stage is all set up and the lads have just set down. Kristoff was kind enough to let us leave all our gear at his but we have brought the guitar. Tommy looks at us, points to the stage and says, ‘We close in 20 minutes but if you can set up and do something with that time, do you want to have a go?’ Oh wow yes. This time we have a warm crowd to work with, and it really is a crowd. No messing about here. It’s straight in with, yep. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Oh and it hits. It really hits. And so do we as we have no let up, keeping it right up to 11 with RocknRoll Tree then closing this mini show with The Cat. We simply tear the place apart. The reactions to the songs are simply enormous and we roam all around and totally take the place over. We even have the bar staff dancing behind the bar. Stepping up to this, we set ourselves right at the bar for a section or two and just give it to them. After the disheartening dampness of the reaction half an hour or so ago, it feels so amazing to have got right back on the horse and stormed it round the track. This is what we can do and this is what it’s really like when we play. Tommy is delighted, as are the bar staff, and Maja has now achieved one of her London ambitions. To play The Marquis. And this is all we need. Two, three or four songs. Give people a short sharp good time, throw our markers down and leave the stage, job done. And it feels perfect in here today as we head to the bar with beers courtesy of Tommy – thankyou very much – and settle down for the hang as they bring the tunes back out again for the last five minutes. Yes. This has all been timed very very well. And another drink on the house again. Again, thankyou very much.

As it settles down and things start to close, Tommy tells us we’re in no rush and we can stick around. So we do and we get talking to a guitar player called Jack who’s intrigued as to how we’ve been getting on. We tell him about our Now Hustle and his eyes widen. ‘Nobody does that,’ he says. ‘Nobody.’ Nope. And as far as we can tell, nobody ever has. And we’re probably going to do the same around here although not with the ‘Now’ element. But still, hustling bars where the original acts don’t play and just trying to crowbar them open for ourselves. And other people in the future. Who knows?

Here’s Tommy now to answer that question as he comes and joins us. We talk about w wide range of things musical and he introduces us to a few London bands he thinks we should check out, including a rocking Ska feel band called The Chase. As he does, he says to Maja as he gestures to me, ‘This fella has got a lot to answer to regarding live music in here. He got it going.’ Then, from his own memory of the time, he describes the process where I first cold called, got something of a reaction, then just kept knocking at the door every now and again. How about this week? This week? Until Tommy relented and said, OK, have a go. That was with my cover act The Insiders and we ended up playing in here every month for the next few years. And as those afternoons grew in popularity, so Tommy started introducing more and more live acts. Now he has them on all the time to the point that this is practically a live music venue. And yep. Tommy has confirmed today that I alone got the ball rolling on that.

As for what happens next for us in here, he says that of course he wants us in, especially after what we did today. He’s fully booked until August though and doesn’t have the diary with him now. And to be fair, he is in full post weekend wind down mode so I can see not really up for too much shop talk so I don’t push it. But yes, this will happen.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, day 117

Day 117

Monday April 17

I go for a local hustle round Shoreditch today which begins with a few underwhelming reactions. The most surprising and disappointing comes from a bar I thought would have been a good, soft start because it advertises a comedy night. When we see stuff like this we associate it with a bar, or a bar manager, which is proactive and open to ideas, or at least live entertainment. Maybe this person really will get back to me like they say, and I’ve just caught them a little preoccupied in their total indifference, but I leave thinking, ‘Why does this have to be so hard?’ But just carry on. Forget the last one and just keep going. We’ve had far worse rejections to be fair, but this one is just 

so benignly dispiriting. Like, what? ‘You didn’t even want to engage? Not even a little bit?’

From here I walk to Hoxton Square and a bar called The Red Dog Saloon. There, I am met by manager Adrian who definitely does engage. Then his reaction is along the lines of, free live music? For 20 minutes or so? What’s not to like? Sure. Come and do your thing. We settle on this Saturday. He even asks if we could do the following Saturday as well. If it works, of course. Damn. I can’t believe it. I’ve got us a Saturday gig in Shoreditch. And not only that, a possible repeat show. And who knows what after that? A regular Saturday in the heart of Shoreditch maybe? Why not? This really is just too cool. Once again, like we’ve experienced so many times, this hustling thing can feel like an impossible task and then it suddenly becomes the easiest job in the world. Catch the right person at the right time and it’s all, of course. Come on in. Sometimes you don’t even get to finish the pitch. You can just feel them straining to interrupt and say yes. Adrian really feels like one of those right people. He just seems to get it.

There is a brief chat before he completely opens the doos. This is where he asks a few fair enough questions including, ‘How many people do you think you can bring?’ My answer is immediate and I totally own it and stand behind it. ‘Probably no-one. But that’s not what this is about. We just want to use your bar and your customers.’ He actually nods smiles at this. A reaction I like to think means he appreciates the forthrightness of the answer. In context, and he gets this too, I’m saying we’ll give you a short free show on the back of almost a hundred gigs and two European tours of experience. This next part of the pitch has been expanded here a little for you. We’re not even massively that bothered about money in the hat anymore; we will still do it just to make the point that what we’re doing has value, and it’s nice when it comes back that we do, but anyone can decide what that value is. But from now, we’re really going to feel the bars out and bring the hat out if we feel it’s appropriate. And anyway, places and people are becoming more and more cashless. But hey, there’s always the Paypal donate button on our site. However, money or no money, these shows do have definite, solid value for us. You know that old cliche about gigs being offered for ‘exposure’, well for us it really is like that right now, at least for these gigs we’re arranging ourselves; they’re all about building our brand as they put us in front of new audiences. We also feel we’re taking our songs direct to the market. People who might hear us, and maybe even come to see us once we’re on the radio, or maybe have some sort of bigger profile. However, those people will not be seeing us in a dedicated music venue, or on some cool lineup. But they are seeing us now. To take this even a stage or two further, and to the idea we had right at the beginning, at this stage we’re often playing to people who don’t go and see live original music at all. Certainly not unknown live acts. So yeah, we really are going to completely new territories. This can be evidenced in much of the reaction we had when we first stated these intentions. Reactions that, while coming from a caring place, sometimes strayed into borderline verbally aggressive territory. ‘I am telling you. Do. Not. Do. This.’ And other people actually using the word beg. ‘I am begging you not to do this.’ Well guess what, we’ve done it almost a hundred times now. All over Europe. And now we’re doing it in London.

By the very fact that we’re playing even just a few songs in a bar, as well as being seen and heard, we have the opportunity to give out our cards and beer mats – and, when we have it, maybe sell merch with permission. We’re also able talk to new people and personally introduce The Diaries. That is the act, the website, and the very Diaries themselves. Then afterwards, if we get a person or two wanting to chat and know more, which we often do, bring it on. If we can gather up just one fan at a time along the way, that’s a fan who is now on our side and who will be out there spreading the word. That might be person to person, or person to a few people. There really is no more powerful message or advertising than that. There’s the value right there. Also, by taking ourselves out there again and again like this, we continue to socialise in a highly active and targeted way, and increase the chances of a personal meeting or introduction to a person, or people, who would like to get involved to try to take this to other levels. And it’s only three or four songs or 20 minutes or so anyway. It’s not like we’re giving a whole evening away. Meaning we don’t have to give that much of ourselves, and we’re not taking gigs away from those who play bars to pay their way.  This could all be the very definition of direct marketing.

As for that ‘how many people can you bring’ question, which Adrian was totally right to ask, we have thoughts there too. Really, at this stage of the game, it means how many mates or supportive family members do you have. Because sure, I could say 50 people, book a show and bring 50 people. Great. We’ve played to our audience and they’ve all spent money at the bar and made it worth everyone’s while. But have they really? When, in all good will and support, do you think those 50 people will come and see us again? They’ve done their thing, they’ve supported us, they’ve taken the time to see our show and, I’m sure, had a lovely enjoyable evening. Will they come out again if we get a show tomorrow? Next week? Two weeks’ time? Realistically, you’re looking at another six months before you can excite enough of your mates to make this ‘worthwhile’ again. Three if you’re lucky. But even then, will they come again the time after that? So no. That model doesn’t work to build an act either. It just gives you a one-off hit in a venue, and maybe an ego trip as you can pretend to be a rockstar to an adoring crowd for a night. One night. Good luck getting out regularly and building a name and a brand with that.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, day 118

Day 118

Tuesday April 18, 2023

You really don’t get much time to impress for the kind of gigs we’ve generally been doing so you have to grab them straight away and claim the territory as yours. Sometimes the overwhelm option is good, or sometimes you just hit a big singalong number straight away. Or sometimes you should just read the room and settle into it. Which is a lot easier said than done and, of all the options above, we’ve not always got it quite right, but this is what experience is all about. We’re in The White Hart tonight and, after Sunday when we didn’t get it quite right, we’ve taken that experience and put together a setlist that eases us into this show. So we’re starting with Freefall which has a really nice build of pace to it and has served us well as a first song quite a few times. It starts really gentle, settles into somewhere around mid pace, then goes through the gears quite steadily before a more rocking ending which prepares an audience if we think it’s now time to turn it all up. We won’t do that tonight. Yes, we start with Freefall, but we’ve decided to keep it chilled and basically not be too intrusive or dominating. We’re bringing out our play it nice set with the plan being to then really rock it up in the second half and storm it home.

We have ourselves set up and we’re ready. The place is really big and long and it’s mostly a work crowd catching up after work. We’re not going to be heard down the end anyway, so we decide to concentrate on playing to what we have up here at the back of the bar in a large enough raised area. We get started and I think it’s fair to say there’s a little bemusement among the people to suddenly find the two of us singing and playing among them. They’re kind of with it though, but the talking level remains high and we’re somewhat lost in the overall buzz. This goes on through our second song, although we can see that, around the room, some people are paying attention and really starting to get into it. But we’re still very much on the losing end of the battle and make the spontaneous decision to just enjoy it and play for ourselves. So there we are in the middle of the room just playing for each other and getting off on our own music. If no-one else is, we’re not going to let that touch us. We carry on like this for four or five more songs, generally feeling ignored, but knowing that there are pockets of people at least giving us a chance and some individuals truly starting to feel it. But it must be hard for them anyone get into it if they want to because I’m not sure how much they can really hear. But the end of each song is greeted with some applause and even the odd shout, so we are connecting somewhere out there. At the same time, we feel we really are losing the battle of noise with this room, even if we are mildly starting to win over the odd heart here and mind there. We’re just gearing up to get into the rocking part of the set and are thinking that we might just have enough people in here to take with us who can then maybe bring some other people. That’s when Kristoff looks over and gives us the signal that we have one more. Oh. Oh. That wasn’t the plan at all. We feel we were just getting warmed up, but maybe we’ve already lost on points and there’s no point carrying on. No matter. We’ve stood up to this and we haven’t backed down an inch.

We have one more. One song to attempt to maybe land one punch in a very one sided contest and go home thinking that we might have lost, but we at least got one shot in and we never went down. Nights like this are tough, but I can’t help thinking they’re tougher on Maja who, afterall, is the singer fronting this, and maybe not even able to hear herself too much on a night like this. Can’t be much fun. But she really does tough and front these things out and this has been one of the toughest. No-one’s been nasty at all, it’s just that there, well, hasn’t really been anything at all. Unless she’s been able to look up and see some of the positivity coming back that I’ve been seeing.

There really isn’t any debate about what to play next, or last. We have to. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Now we just go for it. What happens next stuns us. We haven’t even got to the hook of the chorus, or to the sentiment of the song. We’re still in the verses and playing our way into this, but what’s this? All around us people have started and joined in a spontaneous rhythmic clapping along to us. This has never happened before. It pulls in more and more people until we’re in the centre and out of nowhere in the middle of a show. In a room that feels it’s all totally there for us and there with us. It’s a long bar so down there we still haven’t quite connected, but we sure they can sense something’s happening up here. We certainly do. And we’ve stayed connected and in gear all night, so when the call comes to really go for it, don’t worry. We’re already there. Yep. Into the chorus and with the crowd already warmed up to is, they hit another level now. And we’re in. Where’ve you been guys? You took your time. But welcome. Now we feel in charge and in control. At least up here. But yes, down there too, more and more people are starting to look up. Something’s happening. Has been happening all night and they missed it. But come on. You might just catch up now.

We smash to the end of I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), and we’re done. Goodnight and thankyou. We haven’t just landed a punch. I think with that final flurry, we’ve levelled the contest, but when you come back from a goal down to equalise in the last minute, you always feel like you’ve won. And here we are. But what now? There’s no smattering of applause or odd shout out for this one. No. It’s a roar that greets us this time. A spontaneous, from the throat roar. Ladies and gentlemen, we have landed. Maja says thankyou very much and we start to pack up. Then it begins. One more tune. One more tune. And they’re clapping along to it as well. What they make of this down on the floor I have no idea. I look down at Kristoff and his face is just a picture of shocked bewilderment and, I have to say, a little joy that we have turned this round so spectacularly. He nods and mouths. OK. One more. So we do. And as I hit the first bouncing chords of The Cat, our new little pocket of fans cheer. They’re getting more. And oh we have them now. This is true turnaround territory when the fighter has been on the ropes all night and you’ve been begging the referee to stop it or for someone, please, someone, thrown the damn towel. But no towel got thrown, the referee didn’t call it and the guy didn’t go down. Instead, he got his one shot in, staggered the stunned opponent who’d had it his own way all night. Then, out of nowhere, the guy on the ropes just kept coming and was suddenly unstoppable. Punching punching, the previously unassailable opponent flailing backwards wondering where the hell this came from and powerless to stop it now all momentum had flipped the other way. And the crowd was on its feet in stunned, jubilant disbelief and cheering the supposed, defeated underdog all the way. And he’s going to go all the way. They never saw it but they have no doubt now.

Now you see what I mean. You can’t stop me. I’m a killing machine.

Yes they do. Each new chorus lands like a new punch and the cheering goes up another level. We have them and we are letting go. They know it and they love it. Maybe they were really on our side all along.

We smash out the other end of this song and it really is all over. Kristoff has already signalled that it’s late enough for live music and it has to stop now. OK. If we’d known we had a deadline we would have pulled out some of the bigger guns a little earlier. But I think we’ve made our point. The encore shouts are still coming and the clapping is still ringing out, settling into an insistent rhythm out of the final applause. And down on the floor and behind the bar, they can all see it.

We got battered, we got bruised. We never went down, we refused. Now, as we set microphone and guitar down and take our turn to clap, and then go over to thank those who joined and came with us out of such difficult beginnings, everyone around can now see what happened here tonight. 

We won.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, days 122 to 126

Day 122

Saturday April 22

So, Tuesday done and we have our second full London show tonight in The Red Dog Saloon in Hoxton Square, Shoreditch at 6pm. I have high hopes for this. Not so much the actual gig itself, more that Adrian really seemed to get my pitch when I spoke to him. It’s just possible that finding a regular venue could be a big part of the journey to building a very real audience. It could start here as well as anywhere else.

Until we arrive. Oh damn. The place is a restaurant. It really didn’t look like one when I came in here and spoke to him. As soon as we see that, me and Maja are like, ‘No. This isn’t going to work.’ We wait for Adrian to extricate himself from being very busy and then just tell him, sorry, but no. Oh. What are we going to do now? We were all set up for this. Maja has it. Let’s go do the Now Hustle. Why not? 

This first leads us into two bars in this square. Both seem like they could really be something. For one of them, we get talking to the security guy on the street, and he then offers to show us the place. Cool. It goes back to another place, back to another place. There are the private rooms. And then through another door, and oh. You’re in a full on music venue with a huge stage and a room that could hold up to 200 people. All from that little frontage that we first saw. The place is huge. Definitely worth coming back to. We’re not yet quite able to fill a 200 capacity venue, but maybe we could play with someone who could. Just thinking out loud, this could be a place to come back and maybe trial something out front and get to be known by the management. Then…

But the place is empty right now so we don’t Now Hustle it. We thank our guy for his tour and onto the next. Which is another venue on the corner of the square advertising live music. Again, no manager to talk to and again, it’s empty right now. But again, very worth coming back to.

Out of the square and onto the main streets and we head for a bar called The Reliance that I’ve had my eye on in my previous hustle sessions. It’s right round the corner from where we live, and is a lovely looking single rectangular shaped bar with a kind of alcove out back, and has a totally simple bar feel to it. So many of the bars round here are supercool with distinctive features and offerings, and that really is all great and interesting and a big part of what makes Shoreditch Shoreditch. But it’s also cool to find a place like this that looks like it’s not trying at all. Just come in. It’s just a bar.

I came in here last Monday but the manager wasn’t around. I was told he might have been in later that day, but then I got the Red Dog gig and called it a day with a memo to come back here some other time. Well, now is that other time and here we are.

We’re met just inside the door by Mario, the owner, and he immediately comes across as quite gregarious and open. We give him our pitch and he’s all, why not. Come and do your thing. So we do. Not to too many people but the short, sharp four song set we play is very well received by the people that are here, with one guy in particular coming over to join us at the bar afterwards. He is madly enthusiastic about us. A great example of one fan at a time. And he buys us a beer. As he’s chatting, he says, ‘To make it as a new band you need an edge.’ Oh yeah? Inside I’m telling myself just to swallow whatever he’s about to offer as advice and be graceful. Then he adds, ‘You guys have that edge.’ Oh. Thankyou very much. That’s OK then. ‘All you have to do now,’ he continues, ‘is just get out there and keep getting out there.’ Which, as you can see, we’re doing, we say to him both in our own ways. ‘Yes. Yes you are. It’s fantastic to see.’

Now he tells us about the area he lives in now – Hastings – saying it could be a great place for us to try. Yeah. Once we start venturing out of London to hustle, this could now be high on our to do list. It’s right on the south coast, about a two hour drive from here. Maybe a bit far, but maybe still worth bearing in mind. 

A little while later we get to talk to Mario who’s been busy upstairs in the kitchen turning out what looks like excellent pub food. He’s really happy with what we’ve done here tonight and we suddenly realise the place has got busy. He seems to realise at the same time and says, ‘Do you want to play again?’ He laughs to show he’s joking and we laugh too. But we think he really would have been happy if we had been here to play to this newly developed crowd. ‘A guy came in here a while ago and also asked to play on the spot,’ he says. ‘He emptied the place. After that I said I’d never say yes to that again. But then you two walked in. All humble but with a very good energy.’ And he really wanted to see where that could go. Well, here we are. He says he’ll be going away soon as he generally gets quiet over summer. The place will still be open but he won’t be here. When he gets back, he says he’d be very open to talk about us coming and playing here again and see how it goes. Just like that, out of such a false start of a night, we’ve potentially opened a venue for ourselves. Right round the corner from where we live.

Around the same time, Matt calls. He and a group of friends are heading to Shoreditch to go The Big Chill, one of the nightclub type places just off Brick Lane. Would we be up for it? Absolutely. Turned a gig down, gone out and got another one and played it, and now into Shoreditche’s Saturday night life. Tomorrow really isn’t going to get much out of us.

Day 123

Sunday April 23

It really doesn’t.

Day 126

Wednesday April 26

Maja decides we should go and try an open mic tonight. I have one on my list. All About Eve in Camden Town. And it’s on. Cool. We head down there for sign up at 7, with the thing starting at 8.

Arriving we meet the host Paul who’s just setting up and he asks where we want to go on the list. It’s currently empty, apart from his name at the top to start. All down the left hand side are numbers for the slots. I ask what he’d recommend and he says that he could say slot number four or five, but if I write our name there, the next person could just choose six and so on. Oh OK. You really can’t be too cute or second guess-ey about these things. So I say we’ll help him out and go first. After him of course. In what is a full night of performers, our slot at the top of it all is the peak for attendance so, totally unexpectedly, we do get the best slot. I told you you couldn’t second guess these things. 

So far at open mics we’ve asked people to select songs at random for us to play. Tonight we’re using it to try out a few new song, or at least lesser established songs – Give Me The World and Without A Gloria. Give Me The World competes with My Game My Rules for the heaviest song we have, and I certainly think it’s our most intense. Then Without A Gloria is more mid tempo with a warming gentle start. It’s a real contrast to go from the huge ending of Give Me The World into the delicate openings of Without A Gloria. We still haven’t fully connected with either of these to comfortably play live, but no matter. Both still totally hit here tonight. People really buy into the intensity of it and come along with us for the ride. Then, when Without A Gloria comes in, they’re there for that as well, their emotions segueing as effortlessly as we click from one mindset to the other. The room really is with us. For the third, we’re back to the cards and How You RocknRoll gets picked out which gives us a really good sprint to close it out.

As the evening is coming to an end, Paul comes up to us and says, ‘I’m going to put you guys on again so you can headline the thing.’ And he does. And we do. For just one song to end the night. We don’t go to the cards for this one. As soon as he says it, we both know. We’re doing I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). The cheers are still going on at the close of this song when Paul announces to the room, ‘I think we’re going to need another one.’ Well, what can we say? I think it makes quite the statement that after closing so strong with a song of our choosing that we now return to the randomness of the cards and let someone else pick what we’re going to finish with. The Cat comes out. Oh yes, this is a massive end to a really cool evening. And yet again we’ve been asked to close an open mic after playing it for the first time. This also happened in Germany.

A big part of playing open mics, and going to gigs, is having the chance to meet and talk with other songwriters and performers and just people in general. We get speaking to someone now as things are winding down who’s keen to see how we’ve been getting on gigging. When we tell him our model of just turning up and hustling to play there and then, he says he’s never thought of that and has never heard of anyone doing it. ‘I’m sorry but I might just have to steal that one,’ he says. Me and Maja jump in and say the same thing at the same time. ‘Yes, please do steal it.’ The next bit of course we don’t say at the same time. That would be just a bit strange. But our general message to him is, Tell everyone else you meet about it and tell them to do it. If more people are doing this it might make it a bit easier.

And there’s more after this. Bar manager Tom tells us we were really entertaining and should come and play again. I get talking to him and tell him how we generally operate and he likes the sound of it. The result of that, with Maja away in Sweden next week and for most of May, is a loose arrangement for me to come back sometime soon, have an afternoon coffee with him, and see where that takes us. Let’s not jump the gun, but yes, let’s. Saturday gave us the possibility of a regular venue in Shoreditch, or at least a conversation to be had. Now we have an in in Camden. We also have possibilities in central too. Shoreditch, Camden, central. I think those three areas are the key to breaking London open. Not counting The Dial Up in March, tonight brings our gig count here up to seven. A reminder. The Dial Up aside, Mike’s Acoustify on Sunday April 9 was our first London show. That was two and a half weeks ago.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, days 130 to 152

Day 130

Sunday April 30

Just a quiet Sunday with vague plans to have a wander down to The Marquis during late afternoon. There may or may not be some music on. And we may well catch Tommy and have a chat about playing in there. However, we’re not entirely sure what that means because we don’t fit the general model of playing two 45 minute sets or two hours I used to do here or anything like that. We’re really just thinking that every now and again we might be able to jump up after or during someone like we accidentally did in here a few weeks ago. It’s most unlikely to pay, and we’re not entirely sure about doing the hat. We’re pretty much going with: this is London, we’re trying to build, so just getting ourselves out there is enough and we think this is a great venue in which to do that. But really, just a Sunday hang and anything else is a bonus. As we often say, you’ve just got to be on the scene and keep being on it. Which is why we went to The Reliance yesterday for a drink or two, in the process getting to know some of the bar staff and having a lovely little fun catchup with the owner, Mario.

We walk into The Marquis at some time after six. Oh cool The Poptarts are on. This is the band who was on when we came in near closing time two weeks ago just as they were finishing. Tommy offered us the stage and we rocked the place. It’s really cool to walk in now and get a big hello from them from the stage and also from a lot of the barstaff who were in at the time as well. I’m sorry, but it really does feel like a bit of an entrance.

And there’s Tony as well watching everything from just about stage right. He also comes over and says hi and I introduce him to Maja and tell him we’re playing together now. Tony saw me play in here way back when so knows what I’m about and almost immediately he says, ‘Do you guys fancy getting up?’ I think he’s joking, but no. We soon discover this is a bit of an open stage. Not quite an open mic – although Tony might disagree but it doesn’t have that vibe – but more a show played by Tony who is joined by different friends, with the stage being, as I said, open. And now he’s offering to open it to us. Well, thankyou very much. We will take that. Not long after we’ve got our drinks, we’re summoned and called to the stage. The place is packed and very well warmed up. Tony has told me there’s a guitar on the stage I can use and it comes complete with a set of plectrums and a capo. Game on. We haven’t brought anything with us so we have no wireless gear at all and Maja’s using their microphone and of course, lead. So today will see us perform exclusively from a stage for the first time since April last year – The 22nd, and John Lees, Tullamore incase you’re wondering. I certainly was. We play four songs and oh, it goes massive. It’s also fantastic that some of the bar staff were here last time we played so they know at least two of the songs we play today. And the fact that they know them really does show.

We leave the stage and settle in for the rest of the afternoon as Tony leads a quite wonderful show with various people joining him, including some of the bar staff getting up and doing their thing. What an amazing event to have walked in and become part of. Tommy’s having a great time out front and is joining in everything. He and Maja have a huge hug when we leave. Maybe we can just keep doing stuff like this in here? That would be enough. No need to have a talk about that. This is one of our hang out places anyway.

Now we join all the people involved in today’s show in The Lemontree pub just round the corner. Among other fun conversations is one with Tony who tells us to keep an eye on when they have events happening and to let him know when we can make it. That way he can put us on for a bit longer. We were delighted with what we got today, but sure we’d take longer. He then says that after that, he may well put us on in his local area which is just outside London. Out there, he says, he might be able to make sure a few of the right people see us. Whatever that could mean, but it does sound pretty good. With that and today’s outing, that could be the sign of a door or two slowly creaking open. It really does feel like it. If nothing else, it’s another open mic, or more, open stage, where we now have a reputation and can put our name up whenever the opportunity arises. And now we can add a second show now in The Marquis to our gig list.

During all this, Matt gives me a call and says he’s heading to a bar to catch some friends in a live show. We invite our new friends here but they have last trains to catch. As the place starts to close we all joyfully say goodbye and now it’s off to The Queen’s Head just off Piccadilly Circus. In here we catch a good half hour of a fantastic blues rock cover band before we all head off across town to Ain’t Nothin’ But… where we hook up with a few more people we know, not least, Teo who I’ve played with many times in here at the jam nights. He tells us he’s playing his own show here next week. Well, Maja will be in Sweden by then but I’ll be around. Teo, I’ll be there. Not long before we decide to leave, another live band gets started in here so that makes three shows we’ve caught tonight while also having played our own. I told you we were only heading out for a quiet Sunday afternoon. We cap it off with street noodles and a walk back home.

Day 132

Tuesday April 2

Well, it’s that time again. Maja has a few admin things still to sort out in Sweden so she’s off for a few weeks and I’m going to keep ticking along here. We knew that show on Sunday would be our last for a while, and we weren’t even expecting that to happen. So a really great end to our first period of hitting London, and by definition, a really good and solid beginning. And you know, just great that we’ve now tested ourselves on one of the best music scenes in the world, possibly the best, and what we have has continued to work and produce great reactions, just like it has all across Europe. 

There have been a few really big moments for our live show on our journey. Times when our hopes, expectations, and yes, confidence, have had to make contact with reality and we’ve been like, let’s see if it can survive this one. Our very first show at The Trap in Clara. Oh, I was nervous about that one. So confident beforehand, but then, ‘Will this really go down well?’ Yes. Very much so. But then Europe and first Berlin, another of the great music scenes of the world. OK. So we did alright in The Trap. Berlin? And our first show there in the heavy metal bar. What a baptism. And Maja’s first ever show. And yes. Tick. Then how about around Ireland? Would we be able to just turn up in bars and play and be accepted, no, cheered. And would people like it enough to put actual money in the hat? Tick, tick and tick. Then a few other countries and cities, not least The Hague where we were told to forget about it because, while we might have done it other places, what we were trying to do would be impossible there. Nope. Done. Another tick. Great. So it works all across Europe in many different types of bars and scenarios and to many different audiences. But then the toughest test. What about London? The ultimate contact with reality for aspiring original acts. Well, so far, tick.

For building on this now, we do have a few leads for gigs in June and we also have a few open invitations for people we’ve played with so far, very not least The Barrytones from Sunday.  But we’re not entirely sure right now when Maja will be back, so we’ll see where we are when she does return and take it from there.

Day 137

Sunday May 7

So here I am for Teo’s Sunday night in Ain’t Nothin’ But…

I’ve decided to walk here and I’m going to walk home after. I’ve also made sure to be in at least half an hour before the show so that I might just manage a bit of a hang before it starts getting loud. And yes, apart from it being a great blues show, it really does turn into a bit of a reunion night, not least with Woody, who has his own claim on the 100 hour jam when he pulled in a non stop shift of the first 38 hours or so. And yeah, it’s fair to say there’s a bit of reminiscing on that. I also get introduced to a few people who’ve turned up in the past two or three years which is great. As for the people I do know, I haven’t seen most of them since late 2019, so around three and a half years ago. That seems crazy, but really, things generally tend to be quiet in Januarys and Februarys. Then in March 2020, the whole lockdown thing happened. Then in May 2021, just as things were opening up again after a few false starts, me and Maja were off to Ireland. Of course we have been in here once or twice since returning to London, but not on nights when a lot of blues regulars would be around, so not too many (no) familiar faces. So yeah. just a really epic night meeting people again.

Day 138

Monday May 8

The most of the rest of the month now and I get my teeth right into studio and songwriting and all kinds of musical bits and pieces and practice around that. The occasional social out but nothing Diaryable to report. We’re currently a little bit ahead/behind in here so I’ll tell you now. Maja will return on Tuesday May 23, so day 153 so no more Diary days until at least then.

The London Diary: Shoreditch, days 139 to 179

Day 139

Tuesday May 9, 2023

Not really Tuesday, more a few extra thoughts on what I wrote in yesterday’s entry.

That musical bits and pieces and practice I mentioned. A bit part of this is a few demo recordings of upcoming songs which we have planned for the second album. I think we should say it now. We kinda have the next album written too. And albums beyond that. We’re essentially adding new songs all the time so this is going to be a fluid situation of course, but yeah, albums one and two could be pretty much done writing wise if we needed them both right now. I think we’ve said this next bit before, but no harm saying it again if we have. Whatever new songs we have coming up, we plan on keeping the track list as it is for the debut album. Which means we have songs that we consider better than what’s on there which we’re not putting on. We don’t see this as arrogant or complacent, more an assertion that we really want the album that we wrote to exist. We bumped off Run and Smile Is Going Round when Make Me Shine and then The Cat came along, but now that’s done, we really can’t imagine it without any of the other songs. 

Day 154

Wednesday May 24, 2023

Maja got back last night and massively surprises me first thing this morning when she says, I’d really like to do an open mic tonight. Oh. OK. We have a look and All About Eve in Camden is on. Cool. Let’s go and have another bite at that.

As soon as we walk in we meet someone who remembers us from Coppercats, our first London show once we decided we were really going to get going. His name is Martin, also a songwriter, and he becomes our hang out buddy for the evening.

Our big takeaway from tonight is that we need to shake off a bit of rust. As we look down our song list, we realise we don’t feel confident about totally remembering quite a lot of them. We’re badly in need of a few refresher rehearsals with our last show, and indeed our last time playing together at all having been over three weeks ago. 

And not only that. When our turn does come and we have our three decided, something just doesn’t quite feel right. Maybe we’re concentrating a bit too much because the full on energy isn’t quite there. We get a nice reaction, but not huge, and I think it’s telling that we return to our seats feeling completely relaxed and all in our stride, whereas in some performances we’ve been breathing heavily after just one song, and at times ready to drop after three. Yeah. I think we’ve unintentionally phoned it in tonight. But there aren’t too many performers and everyone gets another go round. Not only that, but we can do two songs rather than the one which is customary in a second go around. Well, this time it smashes out and we feel back with so much rust having been shaken off in that first performance. We feel much more connected with the material, with our own performances, and just with each other in a stage environment. The feeling is totally different and the audience reaction is much more what we’ve become accustomed to. Yep. Having the bonus of an extra bite has really made all the difference. If we hadn’t, I believe we may have headed home feeling a little flat, but reassuring ourselves that we had all our previous form to fall back on in terms of confidence. But getting that second chance has made all the difference and totally transforms the feeling we have as we make our way home.

Day 155

Thursday May 25, 2023

We’ve been in London five months now and have decided it’s time to move to Camden Town, the total musical centre of London and the adopted and actual home of so many legendary acts. The Clash, Madness, The Libertines. And of course Britpop, during which time it must have felt like the very centre of the universe. Oasis lived there. And of course Amy Winehouse. She worked in Camden Market before she was famous and there are tributes to her all over Camden Town. Paintings on walls and in shops, bars and cafes, as well as a statue in Stables Market.

The idea of moving around now came from Maja a few days ago when she asked what I would think of it. Totally yes if you’re OK with it. Of course she is otherwise it wouldn’t have come up. She also says she’s really felt the Camden vibe whenever we’ve visited. Yep. I have that too. Especially as I lived just down the road from it in Kentish Town for six years and went there regularly, most notably to The Blues Kitchen. And of course Maja lived in Ktown too for that short period just before we made the move to Ireland. So she has seen Camden before, just not like it is now with Maja’s Lockdown London a semi-distant memory.

The idea of moving to Shoreditch from Ireland back in December was really more for Maja to be close to whatever office she ended up in; it was on the cards for that office to be Soho or Shoreditch. We weren’t even entertaining the idea of living right in among Soho, so Shoreditch it was.

Maja:

I love Shoreditch and I’ve really settled in nicely with my job and the office. I’ve got to know everyone in the office, but to be honest, the music scene in Camden is a better place to be for us and we always really knew that. I would also prefer to have Camden as my own area, where I know my coworkers aren’t walking past my apartment every day. I like my job, but I also like having my own space. So all in all, I think this will just be better for both of us. And hopefully, with me working from home, we might just get more time together to work on music. Which is what really matters in the end.

Mark:

For when Maja does want, or need, to be in the office, Camden to Shoreditch is a very easy commute. A single tube journey on the Northern line of around 10 minutes. The office is around five minutes’ walk from Old Street tube – Old Street being Shoreditch’s destination – so the total time of commute will come down to how far away we end up being from Camden Town tube.

So yeah. Tentative conversations of a possible move have now begun. 

Day 162

Thursday June 1, 2023

We’ve not really been all guns blazing on looking at apartments, it’s more been an idea and a bit of a gentle look around online. Today we go and see our first possible place in Camden after making the call yesterday.

Day 163

Friday June 2, 2023

Oh. Oh. Oh. We’ve got that apartment. We can’t believe it. One call, one viewing and it’s done. We’re moving to Camden Town. To a beautiful one bedroom apartment with a living room that can double as our studio. And the place is even better connected for public transport than Shoreditch – we kinda already knew that part. I also know the area very well, having lived in neighbouring Kentish Town for the previous six years I was in London. With that, I was in Camden Town’s music venues all the time, not to mention the fact that it is home to The Blues Kitchen, my spiritual London music home. All this is very well chronicled in Mark’s Diaries. We’re yet to return to The Blues Kitchen since arriving back in London, but then I’ve hardly been to any other jam sessions either. It’s just that we’re aiming at the original scene now, so we’ve been looking more at open mics and hustling our own gigs rather than being on the jam scene. But I do really have to get myself, and ourselves, there sometime soon though. But back to what matters right now. It’s on. We’re moving to Camden Town. Wow. The place will be available to us from July 8 which is now our official move-in day. We have a plan.

For people not so familiar with London geography, Camden nestles right on the cusp between central London and north to north west London. As such, its postcode area is NW1 (northwest); it’s zone two, but the next station for many tube trains coming through is Euston which is in zone one and about a 15 minute walk away from our new place. Also, while Shoreditch is central London, being right on the edge of the financial district, it’s also over in east London. This means that we now actually have a shorter walk to many central London areas such as Soho, Covent Garden, Trafalgar Square and the like. So we really are maintaining our centrality. Although, as my great friend and regular Diaryworld visitor Paul put it quite brilliantly when I mentioned this idea to him, Camden Town really is our central London. And yes, it very much is. Other areas of London have their own musical brilliance and a great quantity and quality of venues, but yeah, Camden really is it for original acts. Well, where it sits now post Covid and with so many venues closing and having been closed down, I’m not entirely sure. But it is still the very famous Camden. The starting point for so many great bands through the decades. And then in the mid 90s, for many types of music fan, it really was the actual very centre of the universe as it became the home of Britpop. I’d better stop before I go off on a whole history tour of the place, but yeah. That’s where The Diaries are soon going to be calling home. If there’s anywhere else in the world we belong more right now, I really don’t know where it could be.

OK. Let’s do that tour of the place with this quite brilliant video which I think had a previous airing in that previously mentioned Mark’s Diaries. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0v4NqK8lFWg

Seeing as I’ve just stolen this video wholesale, I’ll tell you it comes from the channel of Joolz Guides – London History Walks. Don’t know him, never met him. I’ll let you know if that ever changes, at which time I’ll also tell him about this little posting.

Oh, and on that video above are pubs we now consider as our soon-to-be locals; The Good Mixer (7:35) and The Devonshire Arms (13:06). The Blues Kitchen isn’t in here, but maybe the channel just didn’t have a cool enough historical story for it. Anyway, that place is on Camden High Street, pretty much equidistant from The World’s End and Koko (9:55). And I should also add that Camden has so many more music venues and bars amenable to music than are shown in this video which, as its channel suggests, is about history and not just a venue round-up. 

Day 171

Saturday June 10, 2023

A bit of a recap is due now I think beginning with two things that you hopefully already know. After our first spate of gigs which finished at the end of April, Maja went away. Then the day after she got back we played All About Eve on May 24. Shortly after that Maja got a bit sick. Nothing major, but enough to curtail any thoughts of getting on stage and smashing into our high energy performances. That lasted a week or so. Then, just as she was starting to come around, I went down with the same thing. Again, nothing major, but no, not up for running around London and performing. As this past week wound down to Friday, I began returning to fullness and now we think we’re starting to be able to get ready to take things on again. With that in mind, we’ve decided that if the weather is good tomorrow, we’re going to take ourselves out to a park and do some outdoor rehearsal. We have done a few light sessions in the mild frustration that has been the past few weeks so we’ve at least reconnected with a lot of elements of what we have songwise. We now feel that one good concentrated session could shake the dust off of what’s left, and we could then maybe even start moving into some new song territory; we do have a few new ones written and waiting to be worked on to be made gig ready. If we can motor through the rest of the rust tomorrow, we might just start to make some dents on the next stages.

Day 172

Sunday June 11, 2023

Oh what a rehearsal that turns out to be. Totally transcends the concept of rehearsal. No, it doesn’t turn into a show in the park, although we do get applauses occasionally from people walking – or biking, or rollerblading – past. Most of this comes in our warm up when we play a song or two we’re more familiar with just to get ourselves going, and to get them crossed them off the list early. But after that we just get really into it in a very concentrated way and in the most amazing setting right in between two waterways. Barges lined up behind us on the Hertford Union Canal and, across the pedestrian roadway running through the park in front of us, a lovely little walkway bridge going over a small lake to one of the tiny islands. All of this in glorious sunshine and accompanied by a quite wonderful chicken Afghan takeout from one of the street food stalls among an enormous row of offerings as we entered the park. Yes. This is how to rehearse. Inspired by our surroundings, and keen to make the most of the fact that we’ve made the effort to get out here in the first place, we do indeed achieve our main objective of shaking off all of our rust and pulling all of our songs back into place. And then even more as we manage to put in some solid work on a new one coming up, one we’ve had on our to do list for way over a year. Yeah, some of these things can linger in the background for a while, then other times they can explode into life and completion from out of nowhere.

Day 176

Thursday June 15, 2023

Now we’re feeling ready to play again, we know Mike is doing his Acoustify thing tonight in Bishops in Fulham which we played a few weeks ago. Short notice but Maja wanted to wait till this morning to see if she thought her voice would be up for it. Yep. Good to go if Mike can fit us on. I give him a call and he says the bill’s all fixed but if we’re happy about going first, we’re on. Yep. Absolutely fine and thankyou very much. Not too much to report but it’s just great to get back on it. A shame none of the locals from last time are around tonight, but just really cool to keep that scoreboard ticking with another three songs blasted out live.

Day 178

Saturday June 17, 2023

We’ve had the car parked out in zone four for free street parking. The last time we went to check on it, take it for a drive and repark somewhere else the battery had run down. Today we take a new battery, get that fitted and then it’s off for a drive to work it in. For that we decide to go and visit St Albans, an old significant Roman town. Our destination is Verulamium Park where we have a wander and take in the site of the old Roman city. There’s not a great deal left to see but it is really cool to stand in the shadows of history and to be able to see and touch ancient stones which were part of imposing buildings almost 2000 years ago with the first known mention of the city dating back to AD62. A chunk of the old city wall is still standing and the foundations of the original entrance for goods are still there still in perfect shape corresponding to the walls they once held up. A wonderful parkwalk around a beautiful lake and history duly taken in. Home time, car reparked and mission accomplished. 

Day 179

Sunday June 18, 2023

The plan for today is two open mics. One early to mid afternoon in Camden, then another right next to Piccadilly Circus in the West End sometime around 9. What we’re going to do in between them we’re not entirely sure.

The first one is in The Green Note on Parkway, just a little up from the Dublin Castle towards Regents Park. I know I’m getting all a little micro London geography now, but I think it’s worth noting especially when talking about places of such musical history like Camden and the West End. The Green Note itself is historical enough. With music seven nights a week, it opened almost 20 years ago and I believe its open mic night has been going for 15 years. At least deep into double figures. At first I think it’s a bit mad that I’ve never heard of it or noticed it, not least because I’ve been to Dublin Castle many times and walked up Parkway a lot more. But then I realise yet again that for the six years I was around here previously when living in Kentish Town, I wasn’t pursuing the original scene much at all so it makes perfect sense that this place stayed beneath my radar.

We arrive to find a pretty cool and chilled coffee-house vibe with songwriters generally leaning towards slightly older guys.  I think the word would be troubadours. Certainly of the more experienced end and yes, we are treated to an afternoon of songs of joyful depth. There’s a decent stage and sound system and a guest host in Barry who’s actually quite funny while also being modestly understated. He makes everyone feel at ease and he puts us on at around five or six on the list. As we settle in and look around, it seems almost everyone is here to play and so it proves. It’s not far off the kind of vibe we saw in Dublin with the Songwriter Collective with songwriters essentially gathering to play for each other in a public yet private environment. This proves to be one of the most consistently high standards we’ve seen at a songwriter event and it’s a real joy to be in the audience for. Then when it’s our turn, I think it’s also fair to say the energy level raises a few notches as we prowl around the middle of the floor and smash out our two songs. One of them is Talk About The Weather which contains the line, ‘Yeah but we’re alright/Under the skylight.’ A wonderful moment to arrive at in here, performing as we are under a large rectangular skylight with the sun shining down on us. 

We’ve made a few friends at the front table just by the stage, and as we return they are looking up at us with their mouths just totally open in some kind of shock. Performance done and it’s time for carrot cake. I did say it was a coffee shop vibe didn’t I? Yep. It’s fantastic and highly recommended. A wonderful way to round off part one of the day. Although as a few more performers come and do their thing, it’s still not quite over as there’s a cool, chilled hang afterwards. Not massively long, but yeah. A little bit of mingling and general socialising. Until we’re the last people left, so really time to leave. 

Now to prepare for evening and we go to the Doner Kebab place opposite The Blues Kitchen. During food time Maja begins to fade a little and we’re wondering if we’re going to make it to the next thing. We know we’ll be living round here soon enough, so that means we’ll have a lovely pit-stop place to go, take a nap, and get out again if we want to do that. But not today. We’re considering calling it and going home and taking out little triumph when I suddenly see a familiar face walking right by the window and preparing to cross the road. Yep. It’s my old workmate Joe from The Lord Palmerston. Pandemic and all that, I haven’t seen him since early 2020. Oh, it feels mad just typing in that year. I’m up and out of the place and he’s massively surprised to see me suddenly appear in the middle of Camden High Street. He says he’s on his way to The Spread Eagle to meet some friends, right across the road from The Dublin Castle. So we instantly invite ourselves along. Right The Spread Eagle. Part of the same group that owns The Palmerston. And as we settle in there, I learn that my old boss Moni from The Palmerston was the boss in here until not too long ago. And my good friend Eraldo, also from The Palmerston, is now a chef in here. OK. Backtrack a little. On our way to The Green Note earlier on, we heard a call from across the street. Sounded like my name. So we looked across, then up. And there was Eraldo hanging out of the window above The Spread Eagle. He was in mid Sunday lunch rush or something, so of course couldn’t hang out too much. But we had a little shouty hello and we were on our way. Green Note done, and now here we are.

I ask permission of the bar staff and then me and Maja go upstairs and into the kitchen and have a wonderful reunion with Eraldo, who also knew Maja from before Ireland. He’s leaving here soon, in a week or so. We really have only just caught him. Brilliant. This really has all picked us up and risen our energy levels. A bit more fun downstairs then it’s goodbyes and we’re off again. Sunday part two. Or is it part three now? Yeah. Probably that.

It’s straight to the centre of the West End we go now. To Leicester Square tube. Through Leicester Square itself, through Piccadilly Circus, and then onto Haymarket Street. There, we find the magical venue Wonderville where a monthly open stage event is having its debut night. And a wonder it really is. It feels as though we’re intruding on a jazz rehearsal as we walk through the small but high ceilinged bar and through into the main venue. A large, ball room type space filled with round tables. And, at the far end, a really decent sized and very bright and colourful stage. We hear it all before we see it. Swinging jazz band and two singers already totally in performance mode even though there’s no-one there. But there is now, as we walk in and they wave at us  enthusiastically from the stage. Maja immediately hits performance mode and waves back. The song finishes and they declare soundcheck over for now and the two singers leave the stage and walk toward us as we walk towards them, the four of us meeting in the middle with huge welcoming hugs. And this is how we meet Phil and Di for their first ever open mic in here. The announcement we read from them is one of the best descriptions of an open mic I’ve ever seen so we just had to come and check it out. I’m going to drop it right here in full.

Step into the spotlight at the West End’s newest and most thrilling cabaret venue! It’s time to showcase your talent at this exhilarating open mic night. Whether you’re a singer, an instrumentalist, or a trio that can captivate with jazz, cabaret, musical theatre, pop, rock, or even opera, all performers of all genres and levels of experience are welcome. If you’re eager to participate with a high-energy and fun-filled performance (lengthy ballads are discouraged), signups begin at 7:30 p.m., so don’t be late! All you need to bring is any sheet music in the correct key, with a copy for piano and bass, and the band will do the rest! Gather your friends, family, and fellow music enthusiasts for a night of incredible performances!

High energy. Tick.

Fun filled. Tick.

No lengthy ballads. Tick. Alright, maybe we do have one or two slowies but we don’t have to play them. Besides, we really are mostly all about the high energy.

It should be said now that Phil and Di are true professional performers with a wealth of musical West End experience. Veterans of their own sold out shows, as, we will discover, are many of the people who turn up to perform tonight. For now we know none of this and just enjoy the moment as we take it all in and tell Phil and Di what we’re all about. They love the sound of it and ask if we’re OK with opening tonight’s show. Oh yes, we are. Which is how we come to be the first act to play the inaugral Di and Phil’s Open Mic Party at Wonderville.

Until then we sit back and enjoy watching them and their band continue with soundcheck and warming up. Over the next 10 or 20 minutes the room starts to fill up with audience members and more performers until there’s a decent presence in the room and we very much no longer have it all to ourselves. Then it begins and we’re called to the stage. Now, for the first time, we find ourselves about to perform in the West End in front of an audience made up of experienced West End performers. Like Di and Phil, there are people in here who have put on their own sold out shows. We are in front of some serious heavyweight professionals. This is also by far the biggest stage we’ve ever stood on and by a long way the most colourful and expressive. 

Phil introduces us and Maja has a little hello with the audience telling them we’ve decided to change our songs around a bit. We had one idea of what we were going to play, but then Di and Phil starting talking about the nasty rain that may have put one or two people off from coming here tonight. That’s OK though. It means we’re left with the hard core. With that, Maja announces our first song. Talk About The Weather. Halfway through, with everyone out front bouncing along, we start to move through the gears as we wander off the stage and in among them, staying there for the break where we manage to get everyone clapping along to the mid section. Oh yes. They’re up for it. After this, we think we have to bring out I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). For which we largely return to the classy stage. And it’s really great to see once again that some spontaneous rhythmic clapping pops up in the middle of it as our short set really catches. And yes, it really has caught tonight. The reaction as we finish is enormous. Then a really cool and new bonus for us as Di and Phil tell us to stay where we are. They’re going to come up and do a little interview, a fantastic feature which continues with every act performing tonight. And it really works. Nothing in depth of course. Just a little bit about us writing our Diaries as we also attempt to answer their question as to how we met in just a few words. But the really stand out moment here is when Phil looks at us, holds his breath for a beat, then says, ‘You guys have invented a genre.’ A stand out moment here? Wow. That’s a stand out moment for The Diaries full stop. A seasoned West End performer and all round music lover is announcing to an audience of his peers that The Diaries have invented a genre. This is ours. Yep. We’ll take that. Wow.

Well, we were on first. So now we can relax and just enjoy the show. Everyone else is a solo singer, accompanied by the house band, fantastically playing along spontaeously to supplied sheet music or charts. And it’s all mostly big show tunes. Ladies and gentlemen, I can tell you it’s every bit as huge and entertaining as you would think it could be. With a wonderful bonus moment when one of the female performers takes on an Abba song and invites everyone on stage to sing with her. So now we’re also part of a chorus line. 

When it’s all over, we mingle around and Di and Phil very graciously tell us we’re part of the family now and to please come again. I did have doubts that our frenetic rockpop may have been a little out of place among the showtunes. But hey, someone did Abba. So pop’s OK. And so too, apparently round these parts, are we.

And here’s the video of our performance at Wonderville, where you can also find links to Di and Phil. 

The London Diary: Shoreditch, days 185 to 200

Day 185

Saturday June 24

We’re just having a casual afternoon wander around the neighbourhood and venturing a little further out, through and beyond the hugely striking Barbican residential area. Then we’re aware something is happening on a busy street and we’re intercepted by a girl with a headset and asked if we wouldn’t mind stopping for a few minutes. We’ve stumbled right onto an open street film set. She says we can’t really go through because, well, it’s summer and we’re wearing shorts and stuff so wouldn’t even blend in as accidental extras. All around us a whole crowd of people is kindly co-operating and the girl now explains what’s happening and we look down the street and see for ourselves. All around, business is going on as usual. But for a stretch of a hundred yards, maybe quite a bit more, the street is scattered with people in full raingear, many carrying umbrellas. Huge cameras are everywhere, including a few on cranes. It takes us a while to realise, but even the ‘traffic’ is extras. Including a red double decker bus and some old style taxis. Across the road we now see a rainmaking machine spraying rain, and there are the actors. Stars Gary Oldman and Kristen Scott Thomas. Oh yes. Slow Horses, the unorthodox spy thriller about a bunch of dysfunctional and idiosyncratic spies. That’s the one, says the girl. Yeah. This has also been filmed on a few streets right round our place, then for a few days exactly outside our place. So close that we received a letter at the time saying it was happening. So yeah. Now and again, for the past few weeks we’ve been walking in and around film sets anytime we’ve been nipping out. And now we’ve stumbled across another of their locations, but this time when it’s full-on live. There are the two stars over there and we decide we just have to stay and watch. This is live TV of a whole different level. There’s a large corner bar right at the end of the set with a garden out front. We set ourselves up there and spend the afternoon watching a hit TV show getting made. I must report that this is not the most spectacular of scenes, mostly involving people coming out of buildings and getting into cars while normal everyday action happens all around them. But it really is cool to see this level of production when it’s all going on. So sorry. To cut right to it, we basically spend the afternoon in a pub watching a TV show.

Day 188

Tuesday June 27

We’ve been meaning to go to Troy Bar’s open mic for quite a while. Troy Bar is a huge fixture on the London scene, frequented by a lot of top musicians, many of whom make up the supporting line for major international artists. I used to come to the Friday night jam here all the time. The one that began at 1am. Never been to the open mic and I have really high hopes for it. We’ve really been waiting for this one. We almost played a few weeks ago, then one of Maja’s out of town work colleagues was around so we went out with him instead. Now the night has arrived when we will finally put ourselves out in the famous Troy Bar. We arrive full of anticipation and walk up to the door. Eight quid each says the doorman, almost as though someone just pulled a string out of his back.

‘We’re here to play,’ says Maja. Absolutely no response. ‘We have to pay to play an open mic?’ she asks. The unmoved doorman doesn’t even look at us. Just keeps staring into the distance off to his right, nods and may say yes, or maybe I imagine that bit. I know pay to play happens a lot and we’ve said we won’t do that – which knocks it on the head for us with so many grass roots ‘promoters.’ Yeah, right – but pay for entry to play an open mic? Even at the Troy Bar. No. Just no. That’s really disappointing. As for having what seemed like cast iron plans cast out. I generally find that quite disorienting. All planned for a night out that now isn’t happening. It really can throw me a bit. Well, that makes two of us. What do we do now? It’s Tuesday. Hardly the most hopping of nights even in Shoreditch. We’re mildly discombobulated and stop on the street to think about which direction to go if we’re not to just go straight home. I suggest The Bridge Bar for a bit of a hang. ‘Yes,’ says Maja. Great shout. This is the place where Rico, the bar manager, saw a video of us and flipped. He said he wanted us to play outside, maybe in June when the weather was stable and hot. The weather hasn’t been massively stable so I’ve not been back. But this could be good timing to go and have a bit of a hang there and maybe have a bit of a connect with the place. We get there and it’s closed. OK. What now? What’s now is that we’re just kind of half heartedly in search of somewhere else. We briefly consider The Blues Kitchen. Not much going on. We really do think about it, but we decide the music’s just too loud. So hardly an environment in which you’re going to encounter and chat to interesting strangers, Blues Kitchen or not. OK. Back to the street it is. Might as well just go home. No point dropping into a dead place and propping up the bar during a slow evening just for the sake of it. But it does feel like a shame to be heading back home after such high hopes as we headed out. The Troy Bar. We were going to play the Troy Bar. Oh well.

Walking through the back streets, we suddenly hear live music and see we’ve come across the back window of a venue and can see the back of a girl playing guitar and singing. To a really quite big audience. Oh. What is this? We see a poster on the wall advertising tonight and it’s something called the 52 Song Project. Oh. What’s that all about then? I have heard of it. We see the entrance is round the corner and decide to go check it out. It’s in The Strong Rooms, another venue I’ve been meaning for us to check out. Now we can, and this looks cool. We walk through the front bar and into the music venue space we were round the back of a few minutes ago. It’s standing room only and everyone is fully captivated listening to the current performer. There’s guitar cases everywhere so clearly a lot of people are expecting to play. When the girl has finished, a short Q&A/ feedback session starts. OK. This is different. Then the host comes up and announces the next act. What kind of open mic is this? We make our way to the bar with the intention of catching the host when she has a minute. This proves more difficult than it sounds because there is absolutely no talking while performers are on and this rule is observed with total respect. So we respect it too. In the meantime we just settle back and watch the show. People are getting just one song each, but there’s also that little mini session after each song with questions and feedback welcomed. Damn these guys are good. A very high, consistent standard and all originals. Then we get a chance to introduce ourselves to the host, Kate. She says the roster is very full but she’ll see what she can do. Fair enough. We settle back again and truly, truly, enjoy the show. If we get to be part of it, brilliant. If not, we don’t. Whatever happens, we feel our misfiring night has been rescued.

As the performers come and go, we start to learn what this is all about, and I remember one or two things I’ve heard about it as well. Yes. The 52 Song Project. Or 52SP to give it its actual title. Something songwriter Kate thought up during lockdown in 2020 when she decided to set up a thing to see if she could encourage songwriters to write a song a week for a year. The thing just grew and grew and grew. Now they have all kinds of industry connections and seen members sign record deals, management deals and get some serious radio play. We’ve just managed to stumble into their final event of the year. As it progresses on and we hear people’s stories of what 52SP has meant to them and how much it has inspired them to write and we start to think that maybe we have no place being on that stage tonight. This is their thing. We can’t just turn up and gatecrash the party. The hoping we might play has turned to realising we might not, to kind of hoping that we don’t to really deciding to very respectfully turn down the opportunity should it come. This stage tonight belongs to the people who have made 52SP what it is. To the people who have consistently dedicated themselves to the project, many of them for a few years now as it has emerged from lockdown to become a real force. We continue this sentiment right to the end when Kate graciously invites us onto the stage to take part in the photoshoot for all the members. No thankyou very much. This is a moment for you guys. We’re just happy just to have been here for tonight.

Day 194

Monday July 3

For the past week or so I’ve been quite steadily working in the studio, writing new songs and completing a few that were in the solid idea stage, and then recording a few demos for those songs. There have been some rehearsal sessions too, and I’ve been keeping up with writing in here. All that stops for a while today as the job begins of preparing for the move to Camden which will happen on Saturday. We have a van booked and have also booked the man to help with some of the moving stuff. And Matt has very kindly agreed to help, for which we have offered a good solid night out at some point.

As always with beginning a move, it all feels a bit daunting but this is nothing like the move from Ireland which seemed to take forever to get all packed away. That was also done in stages with all our stuff taken to storage in Dublin over four trips, for pickup and London delivery at a later date. It also included a lot of clearout with charity shop sorting and trips and quite a few rubbish dump trips. This time we’re just getting everything driven straight to the new place. A couple of bigger furniture pieces this time round but apart from that, we’re confident we can have all this ready in a week. OK. Let’s go.

Day 197

Thursday July 6

Out for drinks with Maja’s work colleagues tonight and we get talking to a friend of one of them who’s visiting London from Edinburgh. Maja’s musical adventures have been of more and more interest to her colleagues and the guy we’re talking to now is aware of them. He asks if we’re planning on going to the Edinburgh festival. We weren’t. We haven’t organised anything. He says that a lot of bars are open to music and it would be worth going and trying. He mentions a couple of bars he knows with one that is organising music that might just have a spot or two available. Unlikely, he says, but worth a try.

This conversation lights something up in me and Maja and we start to talk about the possibility of just going and trying our luck. As it happens we’ve been talking recently about possibly going to Scotland for August. Maja would love to see it and of course we’ve been planning on taking our gear and hustling. Why not just try that during the Edinburgh Festival? 

If you don’t know, this is considered by many to be one of the most important arts festivals in the world and takes place in venues across the whole city for three weeks in August. And we’re gonna go have a go at it. Absolutely no idea how.

Day 198

Friday July 7

Right. Let’s think about this thing. The two big questions are how to stay and how to play.

How to stay.

There’s no way we’re going to pay for a hotel or hostel, even if one would be available this late in the day. We’re considering camping. I check the official camp site. Fully booked. I check out a few more going further and further away from the city. Conclusion. Some cheap options but just far too far away. One example is about a mile away from its nearest train station. That doesn’t sound fun. Getting into the city. All day whatever we’re doing. Then wait for a train, then a trek back the other end, probably also carrying a speaker and whatever else. For two weeks. Just no. We have a think then Maja suggests we just sleep in the car. We have a Toyota Yaris. Yeah. Let’s do that. Then the supplementary idea. Join a national gym in Camden which will give us access to showers in Scotland. OK. That’s that sorted.

How to play

As in what are we actually going to attempt to do when we get there. We’ve had a think about this now and we’re just going to hustle, and maybe do the hat. So, as we were in Ireland, just with a whole festival kicking off around us. We have come up with some thoughts and ideas of what that might look like, but probably best to get there and see how it goes and write about that rather than try to second guess the thing. What we’re not doing is emailing or calling venues ahead to try to get something organised. We really are coming to the conclusion that, at least as far as we’re concerned, it’s better to put ourselves in front of people and make things happen that way. Besides, if a venue is doing music during the Edinburgh festival I can’t imagine the volume of emails they’re getting or how many prospective acts are asking to play. Our email probably wouldn’t even be seen. So yeah. We’re just going to get on the ground, do our thing and see how it goes. So in conclusion here; how to play? We really don’t know. We’re just going to do it.

Day 199

Saturday July 8

We’re all packed up and ready to go and it’s moving day. The biggest thing to say about all this is what an incredible help Matt is. 

He arrives just as we’re getting started to help us carry everything down the stairs in Shoreditch, then once the van is loaded, me and him travel with the driver to the new place and Maja gets the bus. Which means that when we arrive, we’re straight on it carrying everything up to the second floor. For any doubt, that’s ground, first, second. 

Yes, this is a really exhausting sweaty job, especially on a July day, although I must say, early on in Shoreditch we got quite heavy rain which, as far as I was concerned at least, was a wonderfully welcome relief at times.

Once we’ve said thankyou and goodbye to the man with the van who did also help – a bit – it’s time for beers with Matt in our brand new kitchen. Well, brand new to us. You know what I mean. Oh Matt, what can we say? Just thankyou very much. And how amazing it is to have this huge job of packing, then stuff out of one apartment and into the other all done. Kinda – see tomorrow.

And we live here now. It’s all just a mess of a jumble right now as you can probably imagine, but the potential of what we can do with this place can already be seen.

Day 200

Sunday July 9

So yesterday wasn’t quite enough. We hire a van today and me and Maja go back on our own and complete the job. The very last thing we get in the new place today is the cake trolley. So, day 200 of The London Diary is the day we complete the move out of Shoreditch and into Camden.

The London Diary: Camden, days one to twenty-four

The London Diary: Camden

Day one

Monday July 10

We really are seeing the difference between the Ireland to London move and the inter London one. Apart from anything else, not having to put anything in storage to move later, meaning it’s all been done in one weekend and two trips. Which means we’re able to get this place looking like almost like a home by sometime early to mid afternoon. It also helps that Maja’s taken today off so we’re both on it from first thing in the morning.

The plan for this place shapes up like we thought it would with the bedroom and then a living room/studio situation. And being out of the city city, we’ve got clear sky outside our windows rather than looming buildings. So it all feels more open and private. Yes. This is all really starting to feel like home already.

Day two

Tuesday July 11

Today is the last official day of us having the Shoreditch apartment, and with that, and with us all fully moved out and in now, I go and return the keys. I also have to return to the apartment during this little errand because we forgot to do a final meter read, so I get to enter the apartment and see it exactly as we saw it on the first day we moved in and caught our first sight of it. Except this time there isn’t even any initial luggage to drop on the floor. So it’s just a cold, hard, white space. A space we really did manage to turn into a home. I’m in and out without sentimentality. Functional. Take the reading. Leave. Double lock the door. Leave the building. Return the keys to where they came from. That’s it. Time to go home.

Day three

Wednesday July 12

For the first time since we arrived in Camden we go out for a drink with no obligations. All our admin is done. The place is basically set up. We’ve been on this everyday for the better part of two weeks. I suggest The Earl Of Camden, which is a wide open sports bar with basic bar food. And the last of the day of Wimbledon is on with subsequent highlights. Perfect. But we don’t take much of it in. Instead, we sit in stunned, relieved exhaustion. The job is done. And it has been really hard and totally wiped us. We order food and when it comes we just sit in silence and eat. That action in itself takes all our energy and focus. Right now, we really do not have anything left to give. But in all that, I think is, a sense of achievement as well. Of having landed. Of having done it all and finished. And now here we are, with nothing left to have to think about. Oh it is glorious. But this doesn’t feel like a celebration, even if deep inside it is. I think relief is the only word as we sink into the cottonwool embrace of this extended moment. 

Day four

Thursday July 13

We’ve not really explored the local area because, well, unusually for a move, we already know the area pretty well. I mean, it’s Camden. I lived down the road in Kentish Town for six years and me and Maja have been here many times while living in London this time round. And Maja saw it while living in London during the lockdown time prior to the Irish move. But living here offers a whole new perspective and it all feels totally different and even more epic than it did before. Example. We head out properly today for the first time. During lunch, so not even a night out. Damn, it’s almost overwhelming. Out of our front door and a minute or two of walking and we’re launched right into the centre of London touristville, walking towards Camden Market along the canal with a whole new leisure area built next to it that wasn’t there last time we were here. Even a carousel now we see. They’d been building this whole complex for ages but we didn’t really know what it was. Now we see an open plan, multi level series of shops and bars all right next to the canal and lock, which you can also still very much walk beside in today’s glorious sunshine. So practically a whole new little town has sprung up here and we don’t possibly have time to explore it now. So we just walk through it, take in the busy and bustling canal walk. Then we’re up onto street level and right among the music venues and again, packed streets. Damn. We live here now. This is exhilarating. We’ve kind of emerged near the place where I see Camden as splitting in two. So I’ll veer off from our lunchtime walk and try to give you some kind of introductory overview of Camden Town, and what we’ve moved right into the middle of.

We’re a little way down from the underground, so right by the canal and next to the Stables and market area. The food stalls in here make can often make me think I’m on holiday. Then there are so many other kinds of shops and stalls in this famous area as well, along with a whole other bunch of bars and live venues too – a lot of famous comedy around here as well as music. Among venues here are the famous Dingwalls, and the Lockside Tavern. The street snaking down to our right, is what I consider to be the main strip. It runs parallel to the market places and is lined by a whole load of bars and music venues and is topped off by The Roundhouse at the end as you come to Chalk Farm tube station (in my mind this is Camden North). Along the way you will find The Elephant’s Head, Joes, The Camden Assembly Rooms, Spiritual Bar and The Enterprise, all places that have graced The Diaries in one way or another.

Going back to where we were, just a little way along from Camden tube station, if you walk the other way here, you’re onto more a conventional high street. Mostly shops as that would suggest but also home to a few more bars including The Blues Kitchen and, at the end of the high street, is Koko, almost working in tandem with The Roundhouse to bookend Camden. Just opposite Koko you have Mornington Crescent tube (which I see as Camden South). So, actual factual geography and locals may say otherwise, but as I alluded to above, I see Camden as starting at Mornington Crescent and ending at Chalk Farm.

Then in that middle ground – Camden Town tube –  you’ve got a bunch more places on and around the crossroads, not least The World’s End and the attached Camden Underworld, and then The Electric Ballroom. And we’re still nowhere near finished because leading off from this central point is Parkway leading up to Regents Park. Up on this street you will find The Dublin Castle and The Green Note, as well as the aforementioned Earl Of Camden and the equally forementioned Spread Eagle. Oh, and The Edinboro Castle at the end containing one of the best beer gardens in north London. If this part is coming off the high street, well, it comes off the central point really, then leading off from the same direction from a little way down of what I’m calling the strip is Inverness Street. Another famous outdoor market area lined with a load of internationally themed bars and restaurants, some of which regularly host live music of all different kinds. Then at the end of this street you find The Good Mixer, as we’ve said before, the very centre of Britpop when that was all kicking off in the mid to late nineties, and still home for all types of Camden music lovers. 

All that and I haven’t even mentioned venues like metal bar The Devonshire Arms, or Hawley Arms, a destination for rock’n’rollers from all over London and beyond. The Fiddler’s Elbow, another legendary live music venue. Or the Sheephaven Bay, a wonderful, large, meandering low ceilinged Irish bar great for sport round the back by Mornington Crescent. All these and many more are kind of on their own, away from the main streets I’ve been talking about. Not to mention All About Eve where we’ve played a few open mics, which is again kind of slightly off the beaten track around the vicinity of The Good Mixer. Coming full circle (kind of) back to The Mixer is a pretty good place to stop now I think. And yes. The visual and aural assault of the place can be about as overwhelming as trying to take it all in through the page. Yes. We’re going back home now.

Day five

Friday July 14

Maja: ‘Is it bad I feel I don’t want to go out at all and just stay in tonight?’ Absolutely not. I’m still totally wiped too. And besides. We live here now. We can have that Camden night out whenever we want. Even a quiet one to just pop out and back again.

Day six

Saturday July 15

A day trip out to Hammersmith Ikea for a few bits for the new apartment. On the way back, from the top of our double decker bus as it winds down Kensington High Street, we see an unusual and striking sight. We rush our phones out to try to photograph it but the bus moves and and damn it’s gone. But then I check. Oh oh oh. I got it. I had no idea. This is album cover level material. With that, we attach a title with it. It’s a great title. But now we have to write a song to go with it. Just the title song to sit above everything else we’ve earmarked for album number two and to make sure we can actually legitimately use this incredible shot. So no pressure.

Later we decide to head out for dinner somewhere in Camden. We kind of have our eye on an all you can eat Chinese place we checked out during our walk on Thursday. We get round the corner from our place and hear a sharp, surprised cry. ‘Mark!’ ‘Mark!’ I look around and it’s Ivano. My great Italian friend who hardly has a word of English in his vocabulary. He pops over from Italy from time to time and here is now, having popped right in front of us. Oh wow. OK. We have a joyous hug, then I introduce him to Maja. Well, we’re right in front of The Devonshire Arms now so it would be rude not to. Dinner plans postponed, we go in there now for a drink and a catch up. Or as catch up as you can when your friend barely speaks a word of English. But somehow me and Ivano manage to make it work. We always have, although Maja is a bit bemused. But you know, you hear about couples who get together without being able to speak each others’ languages. I’m sure they get there. I’ve never understood that but I know it’s a thing. Well, that’s how it is with me and Ivano. It helps that he loves metal and has seen me play in Cris’ metal band Wild Child, but hey, communication has to start somewhere.

 A few pints in here, then we invite Ivano to join us at the Chinese place, which he very happily does. Yes, it really is fantastic. Then we’re off and planning to go to The Blues Kitchen. Until we discover you have to pay to get in on Saturdays. Oh well. So we go across the road to The Camden Head instead. Where the three of us happily hang out by the bar, then me and Maja decide to dance about the place during which time we manage to engage a few different tables who rise to our energy. When we leave they’re eager to say goodbye and we feel it appropriate to go and say hello properly briefly and to give them cards. So we’ve not even played a gig but we’ve still managed to make an impression and been able to introduce ourselves a little. Now it’s time to head off home. But not for Ivano. No. He’s carrying on into the night, all infused with a bright new energy. We say a very happy goodbye and leave him to it. 

Day seven

Sunday July 16

Right. That Edinburgh thing. We’d decided to sleep in the car, but didn’t really know what that looked like. Well, Maja’s been collecting ideas and has found a way to turn the little Toyota into a lovely little bedroom, complete with mattress. Kind of like a metal tent. Yes. We have a look and we really think this is going to work. Now all we have to do is join that national gym we were thinking of so we can have access to showers. It has a branch right in Camden. We’ll do that sometime during the week and then we’ll be all set.

Remember we promised Matt pizza and beer out for helping us with the move? Well that happens tonight as we first invite him to the apartment to see it now we’re all properly moved in, then we head out to a bar and do the full pizza and beer thing. But we’re not done after that. It’s Sunday. Time to do the thing we haven’t done since we moved back from Ireland. Blues Kitchen jam. And yes there are a few very surprised faces and really cool little reunions when we walk in. Not too many regulars around tonight, but Joe and Adam of the house band are here. And Aristo, and a few general people I would have seen around a lot in years past without knowing that well. But everyone likes to see a familiar face after a while too, so that’s also great. And yes, I get to do my thing on the stage again as Adam, host for tonight, invites me up when the time comes. I don’t get to play with Matt tonight but you can’t have everything. It’s just so cool to be in here and playing on that stage again and having the hang. And for Maja to see it all in full flow again. With us being more on the original burn now, I don’t see this as being a weekly thing like it was back when, but for a jump back in now and then, definitely. Especially as we live just a few minutes’ walk away now. This little jaunt tonight has inspired Maja to start thinking about learning a blues song or two to sing so that we can go up together and just so that she can have a go on that stage too. No idea when or if that will happen, but we do now have it written on a mental card somewhere.

Day eight

Monday July 17

It’s a thing in many parts of London to put your unwanted items out on the street for people to pick up if they want. Sometimes with a sign on electrical stuff saying, ‘This works.’ Today we head away from Camden Town and into the genteel back streets during lunch. Along the way we come across a house that looks like it’s being internally renovated. They’ve put a bunch of stuff outside including a fridge and some other bits and pieces. Among it all is a print of a painting of the Gallagher brothers of Oasis. If I hadn’t said Oasis, what other Gallagher brothers would you have been thinking of right now? Maja’s all over it. We’re having that. It looks fantastic and will look even fantasticker on one of our walls. It also proves quite a conversation piece when we stop at a fast food stand as we’re getting closer to home. The guy who runs it is super friendly and we really get talking about all things music as he prepares our order. When Maja passes him a card and he discovers what we do, he tells us about a friend of his who runs a few cafes who he thinks would love to have us play. OK. A good heads up. Worth a shot. We’ll go and say hello when we get the chance. Leads on gigs from the guy at the streetfood stand. Yep. This is Camden.

The only minor niggle to that is that we’re really not thinking of gigging or open mic-ing too much right now as we concentrate on preparation for Edinburgh. We’re in the process of consolidating all of our repertoire to make sure we can play any song at any moment while also trying to finish a few others we’d quite like to have. Whether or not we actually play or fully learn any of the new ones isn’t a massive deal, but we would just like to give ourselves the best chance of maybe adding one or two of them. And, newsflash. We’re back in the studio trying to get back on track with the album which got taken massively off track all the way back in October or something last year, culminating in the move to London. Which took us even further off track of thinking about the album. So much of it is done, but there is still so much more left to do. But now we’re on it, or at least reconnecting with the studio. But of course, there will then be the Edinburgh period so we’ll be off it again. But it is cool to have it back on our agenda and back on our horizon again.

Day 11

Thursday July 20

Out and about in Camden early evening and Maja gets her first look at The Good Mixer. Not everyone I’ve taken to this place has taken to it. It certainly isn’t for the shy and retiring. I’m just delighted it’s still here after lockdown and all that. Not just still here, but still recognisably The Good Mixer. On the face of it an old style pub with a clear love of music and pool. And when you get into it, it’s a wonderful old style pub with a clear love of music and pool. Maja loves it instantly. Just the one in here today. We will be back.

Day 13

Saturday July 22

We return to The Good Mixer for a Saturday night out and if Maja loved it before, well. DJ tonight and the music is just spot on. Full of guitars, 90s classics and punk favourites. We spend a lot of time on the impromptu dancefloor tonight. Yep. It’s that kind of place. 

Day 14

Sunday July 23

Apart from last night’s trip out, we’ve also been prepping the car for Edinburgh this weekend. Which has meant paying for a secluded, off street car parking spot in Camden, then getting a great bargain on a second hand mattress. It just so happens that the small car park is out the back of our apartment so that’s handy. With that we have of course had to collect the car from it’s zone four parking spot which we did yesterday. Been a very wet weekend but with the mattress fitting perfectly first time, we’ve not had to do as much work or experimentation or prep as we thought. It’s seats down, mattress in. Oh, it fits. That’s where our stuff can go. OK. Can’t bring too much of it. But yeah. We have this. That job done, we take the mattress back the apartment and return the car to a different home in zone four.

Day 18

Thursday July 27

Into The Mixer again tonight, just for a quick one. But yeah. We’re starting to become a little familiar with people now. At least slight nodding terms now. Yeah. This is starting to become our place a little bit. I’d hoped and secretly thought it would.

Day 21

Sunday July 30

A quiet weekend this time. Punctuated by a late night Sunday walk around the more exclusive Chalk Farm/Primrose Hill area. And Maja gets her first proper look at this far end of Camden. A whole bunch of music venues all clustered across the road from The Roundhouse. Some may not still be music venues, but there does seem to be a continuing healthy presence. I’m sure we’ll get a deeper look in time. Then we veer sharply left across an imposing and striking industrial bridge to find ourselves in an area with a totally different feel. Far more gentrified and seemingly quiet. For those who may want to live a little gentler but still be in and around Camden. Or not; also in the vicinity are Belsize Park, Hampstead and the satellite areas of Regents Park. Upmarket London. If you keep walking past Primrose Hill and beyond, you come to Lords Cricket Ground, the home of English cricket, and then Abbey Road studios. Spiritual home of a certain band you may have heard of. But we won’t dip our toes in any of those hallowed waters today. Instead, we take in the genteel environs of the neighbourhoods of Primrose Hill, then head back to deepest Camden. Oh, we were totally planning on walking up Primrose Hill itself. It offers views of London from around here rivalled only by Hampstead Heath – which I think has a better view. But this place is still a cool park to have nearby. But as we enter, a kind gentlemen stops us and says the place will be closing soon. Apparently they do that now. A pretty recent development. Oh well. Next time.

Day 24

Wednesday August 2

New Song Day. Oh I love New Song Day. Shall I tell you what it is? Not sure. Anyway, that’s what today is and me and Maja are deep in it and doing all the learning and all that kind of stuff. When Matt calls. Our friend Woodie has a gig tonight. Apparently he’s accompanying a couple of female singers in two different sets down a bar in Soho, just down the road from Ain’t Nothin But… We had plans to go to the gym. Oh, look at us. But NSD smashed straight into that. We were still thinking about it but, Soho night out. Strong willed individuals we are, we said of course we’d go. We’ll leave in 20. This being our first time downtown since we moved to Camden, this is a chance to see how long it takes door to door. Well, the bus stop is right out side our front door. The required bus wait time was two minutes. Just over 15 minutes after that we were pulling up right by Oxford Circus tube, a few minutes’ walk from the venue. So about 20 minutes. That was fun. 

Tonight’s gig is at a bar called The Coffee House. I’ve never been. I really should have. This is a great place. A really traditional English pub feel right in central London and they’re up for having this cool music event in here. And a load of Blues jam and general London music scene regulars have turned out. It’s just a full on general mingle. Me, Maja and Matt kind of coalesce every now and then, loosely around a table somewhere in the middle. And from that we keep shooting off in our own directions talking to him, talking to her, talking to them. Some of them we know, some of them we don’t. And one or two people I’m catching up with for the first time since late 2019. Yep. That four years give or take thing again. Inside, outside, front of stage, back of the bar. Oh, we’re just all over. No-one moreso than Maja. Probably no-one moreso than Maja in the whole place. She moves around effortlessly and effervescently chatting to just about everyone she feels like and everyone chats back. Some of them are on the music scene, some of them aren’t. Unlike me and Matt, she really doesn’t even know anyone round here just to see. Then she introduces me to a few people she’s connected particularly well to, and I chat to them too. This is how you do it. And we may also well be bumping into a few of tonight’s new people around the place in other London venues. Maybe even in here again. I think we’ll be back here. What a cool discovery. How did I never know about this place? And of course Woodie himself. Always good for a hang. And just brilliant at holding down those guitar parts and generally being a fantastic stage presence as he vibes with the girls who also give fantastic performances of pop and rock covers with just about the whole place getting involved and singing along. Just a real, total feelgood night. Then, when it’s all over and it’s time to say our goodbyes and leave, we’re home within half an hour. 

The London Diary: Camden, days 27 and 28

Day 27

Saturday August 5

We were initially thinking of leaving for Edinburgh today, but I suggested that Maja might not want to work Friday, then make the long drive immediately the next day. Good point, she says. So Sunday it is. But then we get to preparing today. Oh wow. How is there always so much to do? Seriously. It takes us almost the whole day. So much so that towards early evening, Maja is starting to suggest that maybe we even think about leaving Monday. No no no. We have this today. But it really is touch and go for a while there. Why and how is there always so much to do whenever we go away?

Day 28

Sunday August 6

Up, car packed, and out on the road by a little after 10am. Really not too bad at all. Now Maja gets a bit more of a look of the geography of the UK with a first hand perspective as we drive up the east side of the country and catch glimpses of some of the towns and cities as we pass them. Nottingham, Sheffield, Leeds. Then we’re closing in on Newcastle which we bypass with the city on our right. And there’s The Angel Of The North. The first time I’ve ever seen it.  The huge open armed statue welcoming you to the north east just as you’re coming to Gateshead, the city across the river from Newcastle. Past this, there are no other major settlements and you’re still another hour from the border. I really did not know this. But here we are now passing through the spectacular Northumberland National Park which, and I didn’t know this either, creates the natural border between Scotland and England. This is ridiculously hilly area. Almost roller-coaster like in its construction. Weeeee. We go down another hill after reaching a crest to discover a stomach rising drop. This makes each new rise a whole other adventure as you ponder the mystery of what might be on the other side. Weeeeee. Oh, that. Brilliant. Again. Let’s go again. And this is how we joyfully travel into Scotland where the scenery becomes even rougher, wilder, and more mountainous. All I can think about is what any prospective invading armies through the ages must have been thinking, having to march up and down all these hills before even beginning to engage with any enemy at the end of it all. You just wouldn’t bother would you? But it’s OK for us. We have the perfect music to accompany this wonderfully unfolding sight all around us as we drop in Slayer’s Reign In Blood album. Oh yes. This is what that was made for. Perfect wake you up music after a long countryside drive. Because yes, for some reason, digital maps and all that has seen us do most of this without the benefit of a motorway so it’s been fantastic scenery all the way. 

Through all this, we arrive in Edinburgh just before 9pm and begin threading towards our destination. The place we’re going to be calling home for the next two weeks or so. A multi-storey car park. It’s perfect. I’m really not messing. It’s indoors and out of the wind and rain, and even relatively warm – well, it is the height of summer, but it’s also Scotland so, you know. And it’s well lit. Until we find our spot, I totally hadn’t thought about this. The whole getting in and out of the car business, and maybe being all wet and stuff with rain lashing down on you while the wind has a go as well. Maja says she really had considered this. So yeah. This is a great idea, something she came up with a few days ago when talking to a colleague who knew Edinburgh. He said we should think about this place. A good price for 24 hour parking, CCTV so at least you have a burglar deterrent, and it’s bang in the centre of the city. And very close to the nationwide gym we became members of back in Camden for the very reason of wanting shower and other facilities here. 

We have a drive around the place  – it’s alarmingly full so it takes a while – and find the perfect spot that someone is just backing out of as we arrive. It feels almost built for us. Not just a parking space, but a parking space with walls either side of it. And natural light above with a street level grate just up there. We’re not backing onto another wall either. Nope. We’ve got an open barrier there, with another barrier a few feet across from it to the other side of the carpark with a bit of a drop between them. Which makes this back area feel private and open at the same time. Well, let’s get to it. Let’s turn this car into a home. Seats down, mattress unfurled, windows all covered with this fantastic magnet lined sheeting Maja found online. We have tiny torches tied to strategic areas inside, all our bags on the front seats and then cloth bags either side of the car inside for all the little daily nik-naks we might want to find instantly at any time. Shower and gym bags easily accessible in the front as well. We really are good to go in here. The car will now stay here and like this for our entire stay. That took about an hour. All settled, time to go out, and have a look at this city we’ve found ourselves in. We’re not massively looking to really get into the festival vibe, or really go on a voyage of discovery. There’ll be plenty of time for that over the next few weeks. Our mission now is just to find some food and then think about the after after. 

But even for the after, we really don’t have that many thoughts. We’re just planning on taking the festival in – maybe a show or two – hustling around bars and essentially, just being. The absolute ideal would be finding a bar we could play in more or less daily, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves here. One hustle at a time and see where it takes us. One of our thoughts is that we could fit in between different shows bars have to keep the vibe going. Anytime we play, we feel we only really need two or three songs to make an impact, then leave and next place. Really, one song is enough. Bang. Audience hit. Done. And with us having such a small setup, we’re confident we can find people who’ll be up for us doing our thing. 

While walking around we come across a bar called Whistle Binkies. This is one of the four bars we were recommended to try by the guy who suggested we come to Edinburgh in the first place. We’ve found our post dinner drinks place. Apart from anything else, it just looks immediately cool with the entry from the street being little more than a doorway. From there, it’s all downstairs and into an old style wooden floored cavernous area split in two. The large bar room, then a kind of threshold which is clearly curtained off at times, which leads to an equally large area with a big stage at the end. Yes. It appears we have stumbled into one of Edinburgh’s coolest grassroots venues. Even better, we see that they have an open mic tomorrow night. We ask the bar staff about it and are told the sign up time and also advised to be in early because there is a lot of demand for this one. Great. Noted. Will be done. Right. Show number one sorted.

Now it’s time to go home. Or, at least to the car. For the first night of actually sleeping in this arrangement we’ve made. It really is comfortable and cosy. Until we have one thought after a few pints. Yeah, we have already talked a little about this and have come prepared. We had some small bottles of water for the journey here and apparently they’re recyclable. Well, we’re about to recycle them in a slightly different way than was intended. Ladies and gentlemen. I introduce you to…the fun funnel. Like I said. We came prepared.

As we settle in for this first night of sleeping in the car, we know we are now on the verge. After all the talk, planning and then actually preparing, we have arrived and settled. We are full of anticipation for tomorrow. Would excitement be too far? Maybe, but oh go on then. We are about to do Edinburgh. One night’s sleep here and then it begins. We are about to announce ourselves to the current most happening entertainment hotspot in the world.

The London Diary: Camden, day 29

Day 29

Monday August 7

Maja wakes me with a start. We have to go to the gym. Now. No cosy slowly wakey time. No cup of tea – well, we couldn’t do that anyway. And no fun funnel. Because, well, it’s daytime now and there’s no fun funnelling in potential public. We’ve decided. So this is how we have to do this. We have to get up, get dressed and out. And go to the gym. Now. Right now. 

As we’ve now warmed up, so has the day, and we find we’ve planted ourselves right in the middle of everything, and it all resembles something of an urban Glastonbury. There are posters for various theatre and comedy shows everywhere, and every few minutes someone wants to put a flyer in your hand and tell you all about their show that starts in five minutes. Adding to the overall holiday-ee festivally vibe is the abundance of colourful street food trucks. As I’m taking all this in, Maja says something that ends up being an ominous foreshadowing. None of the posters overlap. We are about to embark on a day during which we will find out exactly what that means.

But first, and I really should have known this already, I’m stunned by how small Edinburgh is. I knew it was an anomaly in that it’s the capital of Scotland but not the biggest city – that’s Glasgow. But I had no idea how much smaller than Glasgow it was. Which is handy because it means we can take in pretty much the whole festival area in one substantial walking session. That’s a relief because we’ve had some quite destructive hustle sessions and were very conscious of using that experience considering the hustle here could last a few weeks. Don’t blow it in the first day or two. Maybe you remember the Dublin hustle we did last year while carrying all our gear the whole time. It took weeks to properly physically recover from that. This time we’ve decided not to take all our gear. We’re bringing the guitar for possible instant opportunities, but we’re not thinking of this as totally a Now Hustle. We think we can arrange things, so we can then pick up what we need from the car. We’ve even brought our full two speaker and backdrop set-up incase we manage to pull any slightly bigger shows. But out on the street, guitar aside, we’re not massively encumbered.

I’ve thought a lot about how to approach writing this next bit and have decided not to go through it all hustle by hustle.

I won’t name any venues because I’m sure they’re great and that the people we speak to are lovely, but they have absolutely no interest in engaging with us. We are met with something bordering on hostility. Polite and smiling it may be, but we very much feel it all the same. Seriously. We’ve done this in a whole bunch of countries and have mostly been met warmly, often even when being turned down, and as we’ve got better at all this, even the being turned down has reduced; we once did over 10 hustles in a row with a positive outcome; it may have possibly been 15 or so but we lost count. But here? In festival, live entertainment party land? It’s just harsh. And totally, totally closed. I’ve never encountered such closedness at all. Steel. Total steel. I struggle to find the right word but then I think I do. It’s as though we’re actually offending people by approaching them in this way and that we haven’t gone through the proper channels. Right. Give me the proper channels argument all you want. But if you do, you have to show me an act that ever got anywhere without some kind of cavalier attitude. Or attitude at all really. And really, is there anything out of line at all about coming to a festival – A FESTIVAL – thinking you can hustle a little?

To that, we discover that the big sin we’ve committed is to have not booked with the official festival organiser who would then have assigned us bars and shows. Or something like that. That’s it. If you haven’t got themselves on their lists, your name’s not down and you are definitely, absolutely, not coming in. I’m doing it again and I’m not apologising. We’re at a festival. An actual festival. With almost every bar having entertainment. But we’ve never encountered such a totally closed, ‘No’, environment. Nothing even comes close. We were warned – almost to the point of verbal violence – about attempting what we did in Ireland. Smashed it. We were told, with no intransigence whatsoever, that what we wanted to do would be totally impossible in The Hague. We played four shows in the one day we were there. But here. In the current centre of the universe of live entertainment and free spirit. Our names are not down and we are totally not welcome to come in. As we get rejection after rejection, barely able to get our pitch out, we take each one with good grace and move onto the next. Again. We’ve learned this from experience. You will be rejected. Sometimes people will even be horrible. Try not to take it personally, thank them for their time and move to the next one with no lingering feeling of resentment. For a start and in all fairness, they owe you nothing and you’re smashing into their day and time with no invitation or welcome whatsoever. So I totally get it. Second, the next hustle is brand new. It all starts again and must be met with all the positivity with which you attempted on that last horrible one which tried to smash all positivity out of you. Believe me. I’ve felt it. Gone out onto the street all angry indignation. It’s not conducive to good vibes and a continuing good hustle day. And no, I’m still not totally impervious and may well have those moments again but we’ve got better. And I’ve got to say, that if nothing else, our experience here today shows we really have got better at this as we leave each venue with a renewed spring in our step, and are able to shake off most of any bad feeling before even reaching the door. How’s that for taking the positives out of such a day? But the weight does begin to, well, weigh. We do get the one tiniest bit of a something when we hustle the guy who owns Whistle Binkies when we unwittingly try to hustle another bar he owns. He says the bar we’re in right now is mainly a sports bar and that all the music happens in WB, where he’s happy to hear that we’re playing tonight. He then points us in the direction of an outside venue and says they could be receptive. We go across the road and do our thing and are told the manager isn’t around but could well be happy to hear from us tomorrow. But when we look back at the place we’ve just approached, we conclude it would be at best a background music gig. Not one for the three or four song all balls and energy blast we would be offering. We will not be returning here.

For all our water-off-a duck’s-back-ness, around 5pm we take a break and sit down somewhere to get something to eat. We joylessly chew on burgers that are probably good but, well, who cares, and with something approaching reluctant incredulity, conclude, there’s just no point being here. We are totally wasting our time. We have totally wasted our time. And an enormous amount of effort and charged up positivity and invested energetic excitement. We look at each other and the same thought is just spontaneously there. As obvious as if we’d both just fallen into the same pond. Let’s leave. Let’s play our open mic at Whistle Binkies tonight, then just leave Edinburgh tomorrow. After all that planning and organisation. And yes, anticipatory excitement. I’m repeating myself a little bit now but I couldn’t care less. This has just been the absolute biggest let down and waste of time and effort I think The Diaries have ever been involved in. Listen up everyone. We’re having a festival of entertainment. A wonderful, chaotic, free spirited enterprise. A mecca for entertainers – or so I’ve read it so described at least once. Come one and all. But if you even think about not organising before you get here, just don’t bother. We don’t want your sort here. Fine. We’re getting our coats. 

Oh, another one on that proper channels thing. These things are all email and/or online application. We’ve done so many emails and applications and 99 point whatever decimal you want to put in here, no-one ever gets back. Not even people who have specifically requested an email. I’m not saying we’ll never email anyone again, but most of the time by this stage I don’t. I think this is something we just have to do ourselves. Hence the Now Hustling. As different and as lively and as effective a live force as we are, and with the songs to match, not to mention the track record, the world just sees another acoustic guitar/songwriter act, and goes, ‘Great. Just what we need. Another one.’ 

OK. Back with it. If not Edinburgh, then what? Well, before we’d even thought of this we’d been talking about possibly doing a tour of Scotland. We’re here now. Why not do that? Right back to the original plan. Brilliant. Yep. Maja says she’s always wanted to see the famous Loch Ness, around four hours drive from here. So that’s the vague plan. Head up that way, maybe stop and hustle and stay in the vicinity of a venue or two. The apex of the trip will be the enormous Loch Ness, around which we’ll spend a few days maybe. The big plan in all this is to do something we never quite managed in Ireland. Take a trip to an island. A really small one with just one pub. Hustle that pub and of course hopefully play there. Then the trip will be truly replete. Then start to make our way back to London, maybe breaking the trip up into a few more hustle days as we pick our way through a different route through Scotland to the one that brought us to Loch Ness. But before any of that, we have our open mic at Whistle Binkies.

This planning of a tour has been a lovely way to use the time between deciding we were no longer doing Edinburgh to arriving at the time to head off to whatever tonight is going to bring us. We’ve also been intermittently texting with our Edinburgh friend and he says he thinks he’ll make it down tonight. Not only does he totally come through with that, but he brings a huge surprise. One of Maja’s London colleagues, and a guy I’ve also hung out with, who just happens to be a massive music fan and who also just happens to be in Edinburgh right now. Amazing. So, me and Maja have got ourselves on the list. We’re going to be first, as soon as the full live band finishes, which is warming up the room very nicely. While that’s happening, the four of us hang back and hang out in the bar area. Then, when the band finishes we make our way to somewhere near the front of the stage area.

A little after 10pm and the open mic begins as sound technician and open mic organiser Nico calls us to the stage. This is a similar setup to what we experienced that time in Hamburg when again the event was run by a sound engineer. That guy pretty much kept himself to sound duties and just told people when it was there time to go up and had very little involvement with on-stage duties. You know, saying nice things about the act coming up or going off. Engaging with the crowd. That sort of thing. No. That wasn’t that guy’s sort of thing. And neither is it Nicos. But he does run a very tight open mic, and you can see he’s really running around to make it work the best it can, and then he really, really makes sure the stage and any act on it has the best sound possible. As a result, if you’re just casually watching, it just seems as though things are magically running themselves extremely smoothly with no hitches and a great sound. There’s a reason it appears like that and his name is Nico. From somewhere out in the room – I only hear him through the monitors, I have no idea where he is, he runs us through a quick on stage sound check. Here, I smash the guitar like I mean it. This is no basic line check. This is someone who has no idea what we sound like so he has to be given a solid representation of what he’ll have to work with. So I just hit that E chord hard and rhythmically. Already people are starting to take notice with some even moving a little to what I’m playing. Is that anticipation I see? Maybe. Afterall, the room is packed. This is Edinburgh. And the two people on stage have never been here before, are facing a roomfull of festival strangers and acting like they live in here. That kind of confidence makes an audience feel confident. They know that, whatever is about to come out of those speakers, the people about to do it look like they know what they’re doing. They’re not yet fully on our side, but they look like they would like to be. That still depends on us taking that final transaction over the line by giving them something they can get behind. We’ve come prepared. We’re going to begin with one of our what we’ve come to call Room Owners. We have a lot of them by now. Songs that make you sweat. Then a good number of mid tempo bouncers, a few real strong singer/songwritery sing alongers, and a handful of slow laid backers. Tonight we’re going for two Room Owners. We’re going to open with Make Me Shine, then we’re going to hit them with I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). 

Make Me Shine is just a pummeler, smasherer of a song. One that people joyfully allow to pound them to the floor and hold them there. At first we think we’re going to just hit it out straight away. There’s no count in to this one. Just Maja shouting ‘Go!’ Then straight into the enormous, celebratory chorus followed by its infections singalong chant. An instant double chorus really with vocals and guitar immediately all in at the same time. Like you’re dropped straight into the middle of a song that didn’t want to wait an extra split second for you to get comfortable. Oh, you weren’t ready? Too late. It’s already happening and you’re here with absolutely no say in the matter. So yeah, we don’t go straight into it. Instead, Maja decides she wants to say something. The crushing disappointment of a closed city has meant that we can now claim the kudos of having traveled all the way here from London and then slept in the car purely for the purpose of playing this open mic tonight. And Maja uses every bit of it. Just mentioning the fact that we have come from London tonight pulls up a huge cheer. We haven’t played a note and she has made them already ours. ‘Go!’ And we’re off and the crowd is truly and instantly launched. We’ve started on the stage – we did have a bit of a discussion about whether to do that or not – but by the time we reach chorus part two we’re heading out onto the floor to get right into the whites of our audience’s open and eager eyes. By now we have people clapping along and it seems the people out there are starting to crowd in a little more. Oh yes. We have them. There are huge smiles from people with that smile being part bemusement, part entertainment, part, what the hell is happening here, all, oh balls to it, I’m in. And, somewhere in there, they also appear to say, ‘I can’t quite believe this is happening.’ And all among it, people are looking around and seeming to say, ‘Are you getting this too?’ With all that going on, of course when we finish the eruption is spontaneous and deafening. Yes. They were with us. Yes. They are with us now. And yes, they will go with us wherever we decide to go next. Edinburgh is famous for having some of the fiercest grassroots crowds you could ever find. We have walked right into the middle of one and come out with it totally in our hands. It is ours. Again, we were going to smash straight from one song to the other. Instead, Maja decides to do the talky thing again. People are still clapping and cheering when she begins. When she again says, ‘We are The Diaries,’ a cheer goes up again. She strides straight into the middle of the room that she now indisputably owns and declares, ‘We have one more song coming up. Then: ‘So, we traveled all the way here from London yesterday. We slept in our car. We decided. We’re. Doing. Edinburgh. I hope you appreciate it.’ With that, a cheer rises up again. ‘We’ve got two songs. And we’re so happy to be here. The cheer rises higher, with Maja raising a triumphant fist and letting out a cry to join it. Me: ‘Here we go.’ Guitar: ‘One two…one two three four…’ Maja: ‘I. Got something to say to you.’ And we’re off. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Halfway through the first chorus and we’re in among the crowd again. With that, I leave her to command centre room while I go out and play right in front of some of the people right at the back, moving around the room and almost from person to person as I do so. She then comes out to meet me and we play just to ourselves there at the back of the room, almost ignoring the audience and seeing only each other as everyone else just watches us do that, knowing they are now the backdrop to us, almost an actual part of the show they are, at the same time, watching. Into the second chorus and people are actually spontaneously screaming out. I mean, really screaming. Then the most magical moment comes. As we fly out of that last chorus and instantly put the brakes on to go into gentle mode. With that, the whole place melts in cheers and applause as they continue to ride our wave. Now I return to the stage, which is all of a sudden the private place to be, as Maja soaks up every last bit of attention in the centre of everybody and everything. Outside and right now, I think the entire Edinburgh Festival is revolving around what we are doing in this room. Then there’s the launch into the second part of the final verse. More screams and more faces of sheer delight and glee. People are even laughing in disbelief, some almost bouncing randomly. Just, how am I supposed to react to this written all over their faces. This is a totally unknown act that has been thrust into their worlds, and all they are seeing is, well, stars. Fully formed. Right in front of their eyes, walked in right out of the Edinburgh night. Then we end. A final shout of I like you better when you’re naked. Then the room truly explodes as people scream to the ceiling as high as they can and the applause goes on and on and on and people keep pulling all their spent breath in and screaming again. Two songs. We’ve been up there less than six minutes. In that time we’ve owned everything and this has been everything we could possibly have wanted from Edinburgh. All the planning, the journeying, the car-ing, the not caring. It’s all been totally worth it because we got to come up to Scotland, right into the middle of Edinburgh festival and do this. We have just put a huge Diary sized mark on the place and I think it’s going to last. When we leave here, our imprint will stay. Only one show. Only two songs. Only six minutes. But yes, we really have out of all of it, pulled out exactly what we came here to do. And have the video that shows it all thanks to our Edinburgh friend who does an amazing job of capturing what we have done here tonight.

Maja finishes by saying that we’re going to be around. And that we are. We go and join our friends who now have somewhere else to be, so it’s a goodbye and thankyou very much as well. As we approach them they are looking at us with a new wonder. They had faith in us I’m sure, but they had no idea that was coming. Last time we were chatting to them, less than ten minutes ago, we were Mark and Maja, two people who apparently fancied themselves as some kind of songwriters. Oh OK. On you go. Aw, ain’t they cute? Now we have returned as stage warriors. As conquerors of Edinburgh. The pivot around which all else turns right now. As we’re talking to them and, indeed, making our way to them, we can barely move a second pace without another congratulatory handshake or back pat. And having said our goodbyes and plonked ourselves gratefully and still breathlessly at the bar, a guy comes up to us who has a lot more to say than well done. He does that too of course, but then his voice goes serious and he says, ‘We need you.’ Which I take to mean – and the course of the subsequent conversation proves me right – that we, the wider world and society in general needs The Diaries. You can Not stop. He says. You Can Not Stop. It may be hard, you may get doors slammed in your face but you absolutely have to keep on going. Wow. Thankyou. We will. There’s no anyone inviting anyone to join anyone. Instead, the three of us kind of spontaneously settle in all together at the bar. And a new part of the evening begins. Through this, he tells us that we are totally new and far ahead of anything anyone else is doing. But, critically, he says, we are not so far ahead of our time as to be over the other side where no-one else can see it or understand it. That is so important, he says. I know what he’s talking about. There are legends who were ahead of their time, never appreciated in their time, and now so revered we can’t imagine a world in which they didn’t exist. But in their world, they almost might as well not have. I’m sure you can come up with your own person or act who could fit into that. No. He says we are out there on the edge. But, very importantly, on the right side of it. Where what we are doing can be seen and understood, and also still have a relation to where we’re coming from. 

Going right back to the early days of Mark’s Diaries, I used to write about all my fantastic encounters and people who would promise this that or whatever the other thing might be. Then, nothing. So I stopped writing about those encounters, deciding I would return to mention them should the thing they spoke about happen, then I could go back in time and talk about the beginning of where it happened. I’m going to break that rule now and say that this guy, who’s been around music a long time himself, tells us he knows of a kind of traveling entertainment setup that we would just fit right into. It sounds something like a circus but without the circus. I can’t quite tell you what it is because I don’t fully understand it myself, but he says he can make a call or two and get us on that particular radar. Brilliant. Why not. And if nothing happens, that could have nothing to do with him. All he can do is make the call. A few days later, with our video of tonight having been sent to him, he says he has. Thankyou very much. Can’t ask for more than that. I’m writing this exactly a month later. September 7 to this day’s August 7. Still heard nothing, and if we don’t, no harm at all. But what a wonderful encounter with someone who has connected with us on such a level. And after all the door slamming we’ve experienced while being here, here is someone who believes The Diaries are important. The Diaries are needed. We, the world, society, needs The Diaries.

With that, the newly anointed most important new band in the whole world goes off to have a date with the fun funnel. We have other parts of the world to visit tomorrow. Tomorrow, the second part of this chapter begins.

For that video, go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_aNeDdOETg

The London Diary: Camden, days 30 to 77

Day 30

Tuesday August 8

We come out of our morning gym session and are on our way to the car when Maja suggests we just go home instead of driving round Scotland for the next 10 days or so. Sure. Why not? Maybe we can work on the album. Or start gigging properly around Camden and London. Not a bad replacement. So that’s what we do. We turn the car back into a car again, and then we’re off. 

Lunch is a fantastic spot in the small town of Jedburgh right across the road from its spectacular abbey ruins. Then it’s into a charity shop there to buy a few books and then out on the road again. The next stop is the border. We just have to. We get out of the car here into a very windy parking area with the Scottish flag on one side and the English flag on the other, both seeming to compete for which one can rip itself from its pole first. They’re still battling to a score draw by the time we leave. While there, we delight in walking from one country to the other quite a few times. And of course we have to stop and take in the incredible views of nothing but rough and rolling hills all the way to any horizon. After that, it’s time to get back to chasing our horizons.

Day 31

Wednesday August 9

Recovery day. Most of it is spent reading the books we bought in Jedburgh. We bought five. I’ve chosen to read the one about a guy who spent the second world war escaping from POW camps. Maja’s reading a book about international espionage. We didn’t delve into any of these books when we bought them. In the foreword of my book, the author talks about going on a journey to meet one of his sources – at the Edinburgh festival. Maja’s book contains a character who works for Camden council, and has another who lives in Kentish town, where we both lived before our move to Ireland. Even more specifically, that character lives behind Kentish Town station. Which is where I lived when I first properly landed in London. Damn. For that initial ridiculous drama, I refer to you to Mark’s Diaries.

Day 32

Thursday August 10

Oh dear. Maja is starting to feel sick. No idea where that came from. I don’t develop anything. She’s not majorly bad, mainly a sore throat and not much of a voice, certainly not if she really tries to push it. So yeah. For a vocalist intending to do some recording and maybe the odd gig here and there, that’s bad enough. That’s a bit like me getting a papercut on a finger. A minor irritation, if that, for most people. A potential out of action injury for me. And so Maja is. Out of action. Yeah. 

On the drive back we concluded that our overall plan was very basic. Get back to the album and work to get that completed, open mics, and out and about socially in Camden. But with Maja unable to sing and not much more able to talk, nothing much is happening on any of these fronts.

Day 58

Tuesday September 5

Yeah. We’ve fast forwarded all the way to September. Not much happened in August. Just hot hot hot as well. We imagined doing a gig in that heat a few times and we were just, no. We did have an experience in Berlin once playing in very hot weather. Not nice. Not nice at all. So we didn’t really push it. 

There are a few nights out though, the most memorable being a night in The Good Mixer when we get deep into conversation with a guy who’s been around for a long time. He’d seen us around and in here and was curious about us. He loved our story and what we’re doing here and invited us to join him at The Dublin Castle. Great. We were expecting a pint or two with some friends of his. Nope. Straight to the back of the bar and into the live music venue where entry was £15. Not for us. He got waved straight through. Then said, ‘They’re with me.’ In we went too. For a really fantastic punk type band in London from Germany. So yeah. We’re now meeting random people out and about who invite us to cool gigs for free.

And Maja’s also been following in the footsteps of Amy Winehouse and playing pool in The Good Mixer. I’ve not yet made it onto the table myself; unlike Maja, I’ve been put off the queue to play, which can be so long. I think I should just get over that.

Day 69

Friday September 15

This has been on the cards for a long time. Probably since around February when we first realised what we had after a casual listen to a gig from a few months before. I’ll go straight with the headline first. Today we push the button on our first EP. Five songs recorded live in November. At that gig we did at The Canal Turn in Ballymahon. Which resulted from what we thought had been a totally disastrous gig in Athlone. This week we finally got round to downloading it properly from the phone recording and importing that into our studio software so that we could begin the process of, well, processing it. It really is just a basic phone recording of a bar gig. So yeah, we really had to work hard to get it sounding as good as we’ve been able to. What came out at the end of it all was a great look at what the NOW hustles were all about and how they were received. This, for us, is our document of what we achieved in Ireland from scratch with our own songs and our own hit the street and just do it mentality.

The people in the bar that night had no idea we were coming, didn’t know us in any way, and had never heard any of our songs. For that, we would suggest that the audience reaction is the sixth track. People can listen to the songs, yes, and that is really important. But we are also now putting out what our songs and performance do to a room full of people experiencing us for the very first time. And not even a musical audience at that; these are not people who had gone out to see some unknown act with their minds open and expectant. These are people who had just gone down their local for some banter with their mates and then two people came in to play them a bunch of songs they’d written themselves. What happened next? Well, it’s now all there for everyone to see what usually happens whenever we just roll in and pop up. 

The tracklisting:

0:00 I Like You (Better When You’re Naked)

2:50: Six Sense Lover

5:49: Make Me Shine

8:31: Rock’n’Roll Tree

11:40: How You Rock’n’Roll

It’s now on around 30 platforms, including Spotify, which is here:

And here on Youtube:

Day 70

Saturday September 16

After pushing the button yesterday, the EP is now up and live on a few platforms and will be coming up on others over the next few days. Around 30 in all through an online distributor. Apart from that, we are now talking about producing vinyl copies of it as well. Of course we could sell these at gigs, but our main thinking here is to get them into bars and cafes and other places that play vinyl as part of their appeal. A few ifs here, but if they do and if any kind of traction results in a given venue, we prospectively have a place to play with an expectant and ready made audience.

We also push the first button on something else quite significant today. Building a Japanese audience. We’ve been speaking about this for a while. Maja speaks fluent Japanese. Really; people speaking to her without images think she is Japanese. This is a part of our toolkit we’ve been keeping dry for a while, but now, with our first real product out there, it’s time. General livestreams in English will also be happening, but the initial focus right now is Japan. The medium we’re going to use is the livestream through a Japanese platform Maja knows well from her time in Japan. Another bunch of ifs, but if we’re able to build any kind of audience in this way, it could make a Japanese tour viable. We’re under no illusion that this is any kind of quick fix, if it could even be a fix at all. But we’re starting. Then, all we can do, as with anything else, is to keep on and keep on. 

This begins late morning as we set ourselves up in our front room. Maja in front and me behind and off to the side. We bought a cool Camden tube station cushion cover a few weeks ago so that’s on display too. The next idea is to get a big Camden poster and use that as a backdrop. We know exactly what we want. There’s a bridge, right in the centre of Camden, which is adorned with faux graffiti stating: Camden Lock. That’s in reference to the lock of the canal which flows through the area. The actual lock is right inside Camden Market. That bridge and its logo is the backdrop we want.

The live stream is an enormous, exhilarating, joyful success. Although we’re only in our living room, from the very start we perform it as though it’s a gig. It’s late morning here, Saturday night there. Our audience peaks at around 40 with people coming and going, so our total audience is more than that. But what really makes it is the level of engagement and enthusiasm from those who find us, and a healthy number do stay from the moment they find us until the end. In between songs there are sometimes long stretches of conversation as Maja responds to comments that have come in during the songs. Then real time questions and thoughts come in as she speaks and she engages with them too. She introduces me as well, of course, but I generally just stand there and try to look charming. Or rockstar. Or whatever you can look like in your living room on a Saturday morning/afternoon. But yeah. As it goes on, we really do play into the occasion and as the audience involvement increases, that feeling that we are actually playing a live show only gets stronger. The live interactive element is a bit special. All questions and comments are written, and once complete are voiced by whatever female robot does those voices. So during a song, the stream can suddenly start speaking to us. And the other usual emoticon type things you can see during live videos such as love hearts and applause emoticons. We do this for an hour in two chunks of 30 minutes, as that’s the longest single stream you can do. At the end of it we are totally spent. You could say we’ve left it all on the living room floor.

The rugby world cup’s on and we’ve just done a gig. So we’ve done everything. Bar? Why not? The nearest place to us can be seen from the front door to our building. So off we go. Gig at home then off to the bar. Doesn’t it normally go the other way round?

Day 72

Monday September 18

Are we expecting big numbers from the EP? It would be nice but we’re really not. Not straight away anyway. It’s just important and great that we finally have something out there that we can point people to. It’s also a massively significant moment to finally have something we can use to announce to media outlets that we exist. So this week the push will begin to try to get some radio play, at whatever level, and whatever could possibly lead on from that. Then it will be on to more general music media as well. Blogs, podcasts, online magazines, real magazines, newspaper culture/entertainment guides. All of the above local, national and international. Maybe even TV. You just have to keep pushing. It really is an ongoing process, you just have to keep going. We have a story, we have a show, we have the stage presence, and we have the songs. If anything, we think that as much as we are trying to get in touch with these people, they are also on the constant lookout for something like us. It’s just that they’re bombarded with so much all the time, it’s so hard to pick out the sounds from the noise. They’re well aware of that too. All we can do, as I said above, is just keep on keeping on. I don’t think I’ll Diary too much of us putting stuff out. Just assume it’s constantly going on.

Back to the beginning. Do we think The NOW Hustle EP is going to be a hit and make our fame and fortune? No. Do we think it’s a good representation and product with the potential to take us to another level? Maybe not even the next level, but just another level? Yes. Absolutely.

One of its biggest values is that it demonstrates the kinds of shows we were doing during our time in Ireland and again, like I said an entry or two ago, we really have captured the sound of the types of shows were playing and what we can do to an audience.

The document we have produced and delivered is live. And alive. We have supreme confidence in our product and our project. It is ready. The album is also on the way and in pretty good, solid shape for where we are with it. So until we’re ready to push the button on that, The NOW Hustle EP is a great prototype.

Day 77

Saturday September 23

Second Japanese stream today and this time we get over 100 people in for our hour long show. This is just amazing live practice as well. Today’s show felt more fluid and just easier to play than last week’s. Because, let’s face it, we really haven’t been playing live that much lately and we definitely felt it last week, even if it might not have been visible to anyone. One of the most common questions today is, ‘Are these really your own songs and not covers?’ And yes, Maja has to say quite a few times, no. These are not covers. They really are our own originals. I don’t speak Japanese but I learn today that Japanese uses the English word original, at least in this context. And I hear Maja say it a lot.

The London Diary: Camden, day 131

Day 131

Thursday November 16

It’s been a game changing time.

Before we get to that, as far as I’m aware, this is the single longest period I’ve ever gone without writing or putting up any Diary at all. And that’s going right back to the beginning of Mark’s Diaries, which started in the summer of 2014. Damn. Over nine years ago. It may be a little more while before posting, as right now we’re at just under eight weeks since the last entry of September 23. Then, apart from the fantastic Japanese live streams, the last actual live show we played was that momentous open mic in Edinburgh on August 6. Well over three months ago. That night, we were told by an ecstatic audience member that we absolutely could not stop. He said we had created our own genre at the very edge of pop music and that we had to keep getting out and playing as much as we could. However, for one reason or another, and none by our design we totally did stop after that. At least as far as getting out live was concerned.

So, what’s been going on? There are a few spots to hit, but first, Maja went away to Sweden for a visit towards the end of September. Then a week or so later her company announced a huge round of layoffs and she was caught up in that and made redundant. Job she came to London with, gone.

This job had been the sole reason she had been able to secure a visa to be able to live here in the first place as the company had sponsored her on a skilled workers visa. To get another job, she had to find an employer who would take on that sponsorship. That is a very very narrow field, so this really was what the hell next territory. Of course, while that scramble was going on, all Diaries and Diary activity instantly ceased. With Maja’s work being so specialised and at such a high level, this isn’t like someone losing a bar or restaurant job and simply walking into some other place and more or less starting the next day, kind of like I did a few times in London. No. These things are whole processes taking weeks.

As I’m sure you can imagine, all kinds of twists, turns and uncertainties followed. In the middle of it all came a momentous development on the complete opposite end of the emotion scale. 

Maja applied for and was granted an unmarried partner visa. First, this meant that she could now accept any job at all with or without sponsorship. Second, for the first time in London, this now makes The Diaries a very real possibility as a going concern in the UK with us now being able to fully pursue any potential commercial opportunities or ventures as and when they arise. Which means we can now totally target The Diaries as a full time deal for both of us. A huge ask in any circumstances of course, but an absolute impossibility without that particular visa. In the meantime, all is back on the rails again.

Third momentous event, which kind of had to happen really for us to be able to keep doing this, but still. Yes, Maja does indeed now have another job in the same high tech field as the last one, meaning The Diaries are now ready to be go again. And it was the new visa that made that appointment possible.

In among all that, first one of us and then the other got sick. Not massively badly, just annoyingly persistent, and for over two weeks. At the time of writing  – November 16 – Maja’s voice is still nowhere match fit but we’re getting there and will be hitting the hustle trail as soon as we feel up to speed again. At and around the same time, live streams will be up and running again too. Some in Japanese, some in English. We’ll let you know.

The London Diary: Camden, days 176 to 196

Day 176

Sunday December 31

OK. Reconnect time. Again. Let’s start with New Years Eve, because it is. Our names are down for the private, regulars only night at The Marquis, one of our most regular central bars. A recap about this place which is just by Trafalgar Square. I played there every month for over three years with Dan in The Insiders and me and Maja have played there a few times now and been quite a few more. When we walk in tonight, it’s already packed and there’s a live cover duo playing. Our friends Nathan and Tony. They all but stop playing to announce over the microphone, ‘Oh look who it is.’ As entrances go for New Years, not bad.

After that, what an amazing night and just the best way to bring in 2024.

Day 190

Sunday January 14 

The last time we played anything at all was back towards the end of September when we did the Japanese live stream. Damn. Just did a count and disbelieved it so much I had to do a recount. That’s 16 weeks ago. Essentially four full months. Longer than we had to wait to begin when we first arrived in London. As for actual live performances, you’re going back to August 6 and Edinburgh, a further seven weeks. So as of today, you’re looking at 22 weeks since we last played live. Oh damn. Even between Ireland and London, the times between our last and first performances were December 19 and March 9 respectively. Just 11 weeks. Oh dear. Exactly half the time of where we are now.

OK. But we’re on it. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know we’re getting back to this now. It begins today.

Without any forethought, as morning turns to afternoon, we’re just like, let’s get back into it with a Youtube livestream. We have no expectations of audience. Nothing is being announced. Hell, we’ve only just announced it to ourselves. Really, we’re seeing it as a reconnect rehearsal, but with songs we’re very familiar with so we should still be in sight of a performance so yeah, put it out, and why not live? And even if just one person shows up, we still have a new video.

Well first, we totally double our expectations. Two people show up. Which is actually a good thing because our performance is so far below where we thought we would be at. We weren’t expecting fully stellar, but we thought this material would be familiar enough that we’d be able to slot right back into it, but no. You still need to build that stuff up again before going public and this has been a bit of a wake up call. We were planning on tentatively starting our hustle again this Tuesday. That ain’t happening now. Time to strip ourselves back and get ourselves back in the rehearsal room so to speak. And privately.

Day 191

Monday January 15

Matt gets in touch to ask how the stream went and we’re honest about it. He was one of the two so now we just have to find out who the other person was. He reckons we’re being a bit hard on ourselves. Apparently, from viewer perspective it really wasn’t that bad. OK. Maybe a lot of it was in our heads, but we were making mistakes we wouldn’t expect to make and that meant that the overall assuredness just wasn’t there so we never really felt relaxed into it. Which made it feel all, wrong. From which you can project a whole memory of performance. Maybe that’s it, I don’t know. Also, with so much live experience, we do automatically just plough through when things go wrong so mistakes and slips can very quickly get swallowed up and they’re gone before the audience even knew they were there. But we felt it and when you’re assuredness isn’t totally clicking, that translates to actual physical performance which gets held back, and you know something just isn’t right because it simply doesn’t feel right. But yeah, stuff like that might not get picked up on at all by a casual observer, or even by a musician as experienced as Matt. We tell him we’re holding back on live just a little while we knock off the rust and he says we should come and play a few songs at his show this Friday. He has a duo with our mutual friend Herman, who actually made the invitation to us through Matt. They have a semi regular gig at a bar in Leyton, east London. This sounds like a perfect place to soft relaunch ourselves. Yep. We’ll be there. Thankyou very much. It also gives us a target to aim at.

We were already on it, but having a gig to be ready for in a few days’ time means we won’t slacken off with a ‘we’ll be ready when we’re ready’ attitude. We have to be ready. We have a deadline. Even before Matt had got in touch, we had done our first lunchtime rehearsal. That happened earlier today when we gently reconnected with the material. 

Day 192

Tuesday January 19

I won’t itemise each rehearsal but it’s worth commenting on our thoughts today. Which is that we’re aiming at having six songs totally consolidated and ready to choose from for Friday. We really expect to play two, possibly one more, or three then possibly one more. Beyond those six we’re consolidating for now, once we get past the weekend and into more rehearsal, we expect a lot of songs to come back quite quickly. Then there are a whole bunch of new songs, some of which we’ve already messed about with, and others that we know quite well but just haven’t fully played too much together yet. That lot can wait. Now is not the time to be road testing them or throwing them out live when we barely know them ourselves. Stick to what we know and stick to what we know works.

Day 195

Friday January 19

Here we go. Back into it. At The Coach And Horses, Leyton High Street, east London. This is a few stops south on the tube’s Northern Line towards the centre to Tottenham Court Road station, then change to travel out east on the Central Line to Leyton. The plan for tonight is for Matt and Herman to play two sets of around 45 minutes each with us fitting more or less into the break.

I actually saw them, and in this venue, just a few days before Christmas. Not only do they play a very crowd pleasing covers set but they are technically absolutely fantastic with great vocal harmonies. A brilliant cover duo with two acoustic guitars. To be expected really. Matt is a total pro on guitar with a huge amount of experience fronting bands as a guitarist/ vocalist while Herman is a virtuoso violinist and multi-instrumentalist. I’d never seen him play guitar until last week, but it seemed like the most natural thing in the world and I never questioned it. When I played with them both in a jazz band way way back, they would often burst into spontaneous Beatles songs. Just vocally, but harmonising was right there and effortless. We never explored that territory in our project. It was talked about but we just never got round to it. But here they are now. Fully formed and sounding every bit as amazing as I thought they would.


This is what we settle into as showtime arrives at 8pm and they take to the stage and do their thing. The bar is nicely busy and the guys get steadily applauded throughout the set. It’s a slightly strange set up though. The stage is just floor space really, on floor level. That’s usual enough at these types of gigs. What’s strange is that it’s kind of off to the side so the performers are sideways facing to most of the bar to their left. To their right is the restaurant area but there’s a wall between that and the stage part, and they’re a little apart from things anyway. The sound is fantastic though. One of the best I’ve seen in a small to mid size cover venue with speakers everywhere carrying the show to all corners. Although they are at the side, they do still have an audience to play to as many of their friends have come giving them their own private audience of eight people. Quite handy moral support.

Then it’s our turn. We’re given two songs. Great. That totally works. We plug in our wireless and now we’re not bound by the stage at all. We’re just all over this place and just a few bars into our opener, I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), it’s clear we have them. People are rocking, watching, smiling. And yes, cheering through the stops and restarts. Straight away we’re in to Make Me Shine, which is just a huge sounding song with a massive singalong chanted chorus. Out beyond left stage is the big expanse of the main bar and I sweep right through into that while Maja commands centre stage, most notably the large double table immediately to the left side of the stage. We finish that song to massive cheers, then we have one more song to play. We’d planned for this and don’t hesitate as we plunge straight into relative newie Talk About The Weather, which comes with an extended a capella section which this bar just fully embraces. We finish this one to a huge whooping reception too and feel we have made this night ours. Sorry lads but, special guests or not, we were always going to do what we do. There was to be no holding back. But you know what? Hold back with original songs in front of a chilled Friday night cover night crowd and you might as well stay held back. The only way you even get through this without being ignored is to front it, throw every hat you have into the ring then storm it like you own it. And that’s exactly what we’ve done. I’ve got to say, I felt a little edgy coming here tonight. We were putting ourselves on the line again. In London and in front of a coverband crowd baying for the hits. Play what we know. And after last Sunday. This really was get back on the horse territory. In the wild wild east. Tame the horse, ride it and own it. And we have.

As Matt and Herman thank us and start up their show again, we get down to the business of going round and handing out cards and beer mats. Hands reach out to take them and the cheers keep pouring in. As well as money. We are not hustling here and there is no hat. But that doesn’t stop someone from insisting on giving Maja a tenner. In the middle of all this, one guy tells us he feels he’s just had a night out on our three songs alone. While another says it was like experiencing an hour of live music in ten minutes.

Yes. This is about as good a return to live performance as we could possibly have hoped for and the unsuspecting and unexpecting crowd has completely embraced us. Matt and Herman, thankyou.

Day 196

Saturday January 20

This next statement might seem bizarre, but I ran it by Maja before writing it here. After initially being thrown by it, she stopped to think and then was like, ‘You know what, I agree.’ 

What we did last night feels like it was our first real London show; up till last night, practically everything we’d done in London had been either open mic or open mic related. Apart from maybe one show, The Reliance in Shoreditch. On the cold Now Hustle night we played, there was barely anyone there and three of them were almost performatively hostile to us. Although to be fair, we did impress the main man Mario and indeed could possibly, possibly have built something with him if he hadn’t been going on holiday almost immediately after. And you may remember that one person did come and talk to us and was massively encouraging and enthusiastic. But if anything, the most we can call that is a successful live audition that we didn’t quite follow through on, mostly due to the move to Camden.

Oh. OK. If you follow us closely and your memory is really sharp, The White Hart. But please let’s not include that one as we never stood a chance of being able to call that a show; so quiet did we have to be in a massively packed place, and so disinterested was practically the whole bar that anyone was even playing. 

So yeah. Me and Maja are in agreement on this one so you have to be too. Last night was our first real London show.

The London Diary: Camden, days 197 to 199

Day 197

Sunday January 21

Just a little mention of a couple of out and abouts as today we take a trip to Kenwood House on the far side (from us) of Hampstead Heath. This is a wonderfully cosy trip through historic art and lifestyle with paintings and furnishings dating back to the early 1600s including a Rembrandt self portrait. A perfectly leisurely Sunday activity.

And in perfect contrast going in completely the opposite direction, a few weeks ago we experienced Virtual Reality for the first time and oh, what an incredible experience that was. Pretty much across the road from us is an underground arcade/mini theme park. You know the kind of thing. Coin pushing fountains, video games, fairground games such as throw the ring or basketball stuff. Air hockey. Oh I love air hockey. It’s all very clean, tidy, bright and shiny. And running through the middle of it all is tiny versions of the big theme park machinery. So yes. A rollercoaster running over the heads of the gamers. We do that today. Just to do it. Of course it’s not big world crazy but a lot more fun and thrilly spilly than it might have looked. And a few other smaller versions types of rides you could expect to find.

But then. But then. We go and try out the VR. Oh wow. Nothing could have prepared us for it. And yes, we’ve seen it on TV dramas and all the rest just like anyone else. But the (virtual) reality. I did not expect it to feel this, well, real. They have a choice of rollercoasters and other bits and pieces. We go straight for the top level. And it’s truly terrifying, wildly exciting and totally adrenalising. We make completely involuntary noises and body parts and limbs clench and flail. It’s all cartoony. Meaning when me or Maja look to each other, we see not Mark or Maja but two cartoon rabbits but totally us at the same time with all our movements. Not that there’s that much looking left or right to be done as we’re thrown all through this interstellar rollercoaster experience. And with it not being, well, real, it can do all kinds of things a reality rollercoaster can’t do. Like fly off broken tracks and land on the next ones. Or take ridiculously vertical routes. Seriously. When it stops and kind of teeters and rocks back and forth on a sheer drop it is completely joyfully terrifying. I have no idea what kind of ridiculousness we must appear to anyone with a mind to watch what’s going on. When it’s over, we can barely speak above astonished whimpers for minutes afterwards. What the hell just happened? We. Did. Not. See. That. Coming. In the context of an amusement arcade, is the ride a little expensive? Yes. To be fair it is. But really, if you see such a thing and you have the chance to do it. Do it. This truly is a special experience and one we will be returning especially for. 

Day 199

Tuesday January 23

Today is the day. Just over a year after first arriving in London, we’re beginning in earnest. We are doing this thing and we are taking it on now. So far it’s mostly been open mic nights, one NOW Hustle and some memorable afternoons in The Marquis, the fantastic live music bar near Trafalgar Square. This is a venue we very much hope to continue building in, whatever happens with any of the below. 

Which is that we’re now starting a truly proactive push with something that has been on our minds since sometime during the summer. The idea, I believe, came into focus during our time at the Edinburgh Festival, really solidifying on the long drive back home.

This is to go for a residency in a Camden Town bar, maybe even two or three of them. But in any live scenario, just getting one gig, regular or not, can be hard enough so let’s start with the one then see if we can build from there.

I first wrote about the significance of Camden in Mark’s Diaries – marksdiaries.wordpress.com. 

I became aware of what it really meant in my earliest London days, probably in the beginnings of 2015, through a guy called Kieron, one of my first bar colleagues and London friends. We were both working in The Oxford in Kentish Town which borders Camden to the north. He was starting to take me seriously as a bass player and took me aside one night to tell me that what I needed to do was to get myself known in north London. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Hearing something like this was intimidating. Where and how the hell did one start to do that? As I hung out with Kieron over the next few months and we went for nights out after work – mostly walking down the road to Camden from Kentish Town – the concept began to take shape in my mind. To get known in north London meant to get known in Camden. It was here that everyone in north London came to hang out. If you were known here, that reputation could spread out to all the other areas. Not necessarily that people would go home and talk about what they had seen or heard or whatever, although that could also be possible, especially if you bring that into the context of The Diaries and original music. It was more that when you went out to those areas yourself, your Camden reputation would follow along as you would meet people who already knew you because of how Camden sat centrally to everyone else’s social world. 

To expand on this, the theory is, get yourself known in Camden and you’re known in north London. Get yourself known in north London and you’re known in London. Which is the train of thought Kieron was on. Because guess what. Many of the same people would also travel to, and from, south, west, east and central. Go to any of those areas, which by this point means anywhere in London, and as soon as you walk into a bar – we’re mostly talking about a bar at least adjacent to a music scene right now – someone else knows you from somewhere else, or you get chatting to someone and discover all kinds of mutual connections, and you’re away. Take it a stage further from there, and once you’re known in London, you hold the key to being known nationally. Get known nationally and you have the key to being known internationally. And the one key from which all these and all other keys are cut, is cut in Camden. And one of the key keys to holding that key? A Camden residency. Or even better, a few of them. That’s what we’re going for now.

You may be aware of Justin Hawkins, the lead vocalist of The Darkness. They had their huge moments in the early 2000s, but they’re still very active now. Apart from that, Justin has his own podcast on Youtube – Justin Hawkins Rides Again. In this, he talks all things music and music industry, including going deep into his and The Darkness’ own experiences. As we were mulling over this idea of essentially focusing on trying to get Camden residencies, Justin had an episode where he talked about what he thought people should do if they were really serious about this music thing. His first piece of advice was to think about where you were living, and to consider if it was the best place to be. If not, then if you really were serious, maybe you should think about moving somewhere that could be the best place to be. In this, while making allowances for cities in America and maybe elsewhere, he concluded that London should be high on anyone’s list. When he mulled over where in London – it is a huge place afterall – he settled and said, ‘I still think Camden.’ Then, among all the other things you could do to really push things along, he said it was time to talk about The Residency. He said that one of the most important things The Darkness did to get going in the early days was to secure a residency in Camden. Hearing him say all this didn’t set off any lightbulbs; we were already thinking that way. But what hearing him say all this did do was to add weight and validation to what we were already thinking.

We were planning on actually starting all this last Tuesday, but then came our below par Youtube performance. As a result of that we decided to give ourselves a week in rehearsal before getting going with it. Then the show we did this last Friday came up during that week which was a perfect way back in. It also served to concentrate our rehearsals a bit more because we now had a deadline rather than, ‘Oh, we’ll go out when we’re ready.’ Yes we were only going to play two or three songs on Friday but you do have to be ready for different eventualities, room moods and indeed performer moods so only having two or three songs ready isn’t enough. Even for that show we did want to have most of our repertoire there at our fingertips.

So yes, we’re ready now and Friday was a great marker to throw down for that. We think we would like a residency that was every week, then another couple more coming in once a month or bi-weekly or something. But again, you go out, talk to people, take what works and play it from there. So who knows what other formulae or possibilities could be thrown up?

We went out a few times in the Autumn just walking round Camden and checking out a few venues that we had in mind to see if they could indeed be as suitable as we thought they could be. Most of the bars we didn’t go into at all, and of those we did, it was a very quick let’s get the feel of the place type thing. In those walkarounds we discounted a few we thought might have been good, and added one or two we hadn’t considered. That gave us our shortlist of venues to aim at when the time came. We did this in just one concentrated area of Camden. Our plan is to hit these bars first, and if nothing comes about, go and look at the other two or three areas of Camden we haven’t properly looked at yet. If nothing there either, if you go one way at the end of northern Camden you head into Belsize Park, another good area, while the other way at the same end takes you to Primrose Hill/St John’s Wood. Ditto. For what it’s worth, and maybe even for trivia if for no other reason, St John’s Wood is home to Abbey Road Studios and a certain zebra crossing you may or may not be aware of. And of course there’s the rest of London. Basically, we have a lot of options and will just keep going. 

In considering bars, there’s also the local knowledge of knowing which venues are more about local characters, which ones are for the music heads, and which ones are more touristy. A lot of this is just in the ether and comes from lived experience. I have a good amount of that having already lived in Camden Town bordering Kentish Town for six years. And in the seven months we’ve lived here now (or 198 days) we’ve been out and about enough to have built a little more local knowledge. Incidentally, if you want to read about my time in Kentish Town and getting into the London music scene in general, that’s all in Mark’s Diaries too.

As for The Diaries’ experience in London leading up to where we are now and what we’re about to embark on, our first year has more or less gone down like this.

December 21, 2022: Arrive in London from Ireland having secured an apartment in Shoreditch. Wait three months for Maja to finish her probation on the job she’d come with. Then we hit the trail the second week which was…

April 9, 2023: Set off on a run of 12 performances in ten weeks. Pretty good going. From a standing start to averaging more than a show a week. Most of them open mics, but still, getting out there, being seen, meeting people, and getting to know the scene and getting to be known on it ourselves. And discovering that hell yes, our material hits as hard in London as it ever did in Ireland or anywhere else we took it in Europe. This took us up to…

June 18: The Wonderville performance in the West End. It was around this time we started talking about moving to Camden. Immediately all thoughts of live playing stopped as we began looking for an apartment and then got started on the actual move itself.

Then, during that moving period, the idea of going to the Edinburgh Festival took hold. So we decided to focus on being properly ready for Edinburgh rather than trying to pick up gigging again. That meant being ready with as many songs as possible should any opportunities arise while in Scotland. This preparation also included refreshing songs we hadn’t played in a while. 

August 6, 2023: The Edinburgh adventure begins.

Back from Edinburgh and we were deep into August and the London weather was simply too hot to contemplate going out and hustling or playing in. Sure a case could be made to say you carry on, but really, temperatures did just feel too much. Then into…

September 25, 2023: Maja headed off to Sweden for a short while. Because of that we decided to leave getting back to gigging before she came back rather than trying to hustle then just playing for a few weeks before having to stop again. We continued to go out and about in Camden and got to know a few more people on the scene but didn’t push The Diaries at all. Maybe in the odd conversation here or there. But the main thought was to let Maja do Sweden, then hit it again as soon as she got back. Then of course while she was there she got the redundancy news. So then it was onto job hunting which meant another extended period where we had to forget about playing. 

Coming out of that we had that whole run through the Autumn where we both had one sickness after another three or four times. This led to Maja barely able to find her voice even during times she was well. 

This all runs us up to the Christmas period, then of course the beginning of January when nothing much is happening at all.

So here we are now. Today. . 

Part of actually living in Camden means most of the bars you visit are Camden bars. Of course. Living in Kentish Town as I used to, with Maja briefly living there as well, you do come into Camden now and again, but then you go to central London too, and maybe other London towns. As well as dropping into your locals in Kentish Town. Which could well be most of your drop ins with all the other stuff spread out. And when you venture into Camden, it’s usually to that destination bar. You know, We’re going to The Blues Kitchen tonight, or so on. That and two or three other bars. But very very once in a while. Probably not enough to really get your face known. Unless of course you choose to regularly Destinate one or two of those other bars rather than stay local. There are people that do that. But let’s face it. Most of the time you’re going to stay local.

When you live in Camden Town, it’s all local. So we’ve really been able to have a look around and get a proper feel for what you might call the Destinations and also get known in them. When we started to think about where we might start to look for residencies, we decided to try a place called Quinns first. Not only is it a total Camden institution but it’s right across the road from us.

So when we’ve popped out and we’ve wanted to stay very local, guess where we went? As we got to know the place, we discovered they appeared keen to try things out. We discovered they have a comedy night for a start. And we got to hear about intermittent live performances that had happened here. So as well as getting a generally good feel for it, we also started to think that when the time came, we’d get at least an understanding ear. As we became more semi regular, we also got a very good feeling from the main man Dominic. So we’re not attack this place with a NOW Hustle. Instead we’re just going to drop in, take our time, have a few pints and wait to be in a casual chat with the man himself.

He’s not massively available tonight. Because he’s hosting the weekly quiz. Wow. That sounds fun. Let’s stay and do the quiz. So we do. Afterwards and late on, it’s all quiet and cosy at the bar and we just fall into quick chats with Dominic as we often do. This is where we finally tell him what we’re up to in London. Up until now we’ve never even mentioned we do music. He gregariously spreads his arms. ‘We can try it in here tomorrow,’ he says. Like that, we’re in. Of course, keeping in is going to be a very different matter. But all you can ever ask of a place is an opportunity. As we say our goodbyes and head across the road back home, we hold that opportunity deep in our pockets.

The London Diary: Camden, day 200

Day 200

Wednesday January 24

Something I forgot to mention in the last entry. This whole push we’re just starting now, which is about to manifest in its first live show in just a few minutes, is something we wanted to get started on possibly as far back as early November. Which was when one sickness after another kicked in. And as each subsequent period happened, we could see the calendar inch, then speed towards Christmas, knowing that if we didn’t get at least one show on the board by mid, or even early, December, we would just have to sit back and wait till late January. Which, as stated by the very date of this entry right at the top of this paragraph, is exactly what happened. 

Right. On to today.

Rock’n’roll wisdom #782. It’s harder to play to five people than it is to five hundred. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Apart from anything else, this can cause a situation where, even if one or two people (up to 40 per cent of your audience in this situation) like you, no-one wants to break ranks and clap and cheer if everyone else is staying silent. So in a sense, the silence can become exponential. Have I just invented exponential silence? I do believe I have.

So yeah. You really do feel naked when being stared down by just a few people in a bar. Or possibly even worse, not being stared down. Which means they just keep their backs to you and hunch over their pints, probably hoping that by the time they turn round to go to the toilet or whatever, you’re not there anymore. If it’s five people being like, we really want to see you, show us what you’ve got, that can be really good. But apathy bordering on unwelcomeness? We really do get the feeling that the people in here tonight either couldn’t care less whether or not we were there, or really wish we weren’t. No-one’s being rude and there isn’t a single thing in any way anyone acts that we could complain about. But you can just tell enthusiasm levels are non-existent. And we’re going to stand up and play to this now.

It’s a sceptical crowd (crowd?) on a wet and reluctant Wednesday. I totally get it. If I was in a relaxed cosy bar just trying to have a quiet pint and maybe catch the last bits of the football while chatting quietly to a few mates or casual bar acquaintances, then two hyped up bunnies with a guitar smashed in saying they were going to play some of their own songs? Yeah. My reluctant cynicism would kick in too. Yeah. I really think I’d be like, ‘Fair play to you guys, but not tonight, eh?’ Maybe I would be keen to go ahead to let the guys show what they had, but I have to admit that would be nothing more than associative bias.

We think Dominic is really keen to hear us, but anyone else just couldn’t care less. But we’re set up, we’re set to play, and we’re going to do it. Sometimes, in more, let’s say, politely reluctant environments, we’ve gone in gentle, people have worked into it, and then, on one particularly memorable occasion, have eventually been like, ‘OK. Give it now. Let’s see what you’ve got.’ None of that here. But we don’t wait. It’s a slow Wednesday and this is our first chance to make a first impression. The next impression won’t be the first one. I understand that’s how it goes. We go straight for the tried and tested crowd pleaser I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). And we play it like we mean it. Straight up, raw, and stadium. Wow. Actually, not a bad reaction. The guys have swivelled round in their chairs and are watching us with some interest now. We barely take a breath. Into Rock’n’Roll Tree. Halfway through this the phone cameras are out. And we get a good vocal reaction when we hit the final climax. Everyone’s totally with us now. All on the same side and they’re ready and waiting for more. One more, we say. We only intended to play three or four anyway, and it seems like quick in and out is the way to go. We’ve got ourselves ahead in tonight’s competition. Let’s stay there. The Cat comes out and the filming doesn’t stop. People are leaning forward into us now. Dominic is loving it. And so are we. As big a reaction as you could expect from five guys when we finish this one. 

But as the last notes echo and fade and the guys quietly turn back to their pints, the cavernous bar swallows up all our efforts and it’s already as though we were never there. We have absolutely no idea how it’s gone. If anything, badly. We sidle back to where we came from, almost trying not to be seen, and order a pint at the bar. We sit there in silence, the rest of the bar feeling like it’s also in silence. Some muted conversation down there but not much else and no-one’s looking in our direction. It’s as though we’ve never been in. ‘Oh, I feel awkward,’ says Maja. Yeah. I feel it too. But we’re going to stick around and front this out. We did great. We decided a long time ago that if we ever bombed in a bar it was them and not us. Then Dominic comes over. He stands over us in silence for a while then says, ‘You guys were shit.’ I look him in the eye with a ‘no hard feelings’ smile and say, ‘Thankyou very much.’ I genuinely have no idea if he’s joking or not and up front honesty is always to be appreciated. Even if, or maybe even especially if, it’s negative. Almost immediately he seems to decide he can’t do it to us anymore. ‘No, I really enjoyed that,’ he says, breaking into a smile. ‘Especially that third one. That was your best one.’ Oh wow. Yeah. We’ll take that. Then, as if taking us into his confidence, what he says next kind of suggests that how we thought it was going down was how it was going down. He tells us that when we started, all hyped up and into it, one of his regulars down there said something to him like, ‘What the hell is this?’ Yeah. We saw that guy. He didn’t give much, but there was a kind of intrigued interest going on the more we played. Well, at the end, Dominic says that guy turned to him, nodded and said, ‘They were quite good.’ Apparently that’s a big deal. We’re now told that this is a discerning music fan who is slow to praise and quick to criticise. I’m sure you know the type. Open but cynical I think would be fair. Possibly keen and on the lookout for something new and great, but perpetually underwhelmed and disappointed with what they’re being offered. But no. He liked us, and Dominic says that’s significant. More. As we’re packing up that guy comes over to us and is enthusiastic and very friendly in his praise. Oh wow. That was a moment. One by one almost everyone else in the bar also comes over to say well done and to tell us how much they enjoyed it and that it was great to hear something different. Really, if that’s not a triumphant gig from hard beginnings, I don’t know what is. For a first time out, no fanfare, no anticipation. Wet Wednesday with the football on and all that. Yes, we will take that. 

Whatever has happened tonight, Dominic thinks there’s been enough to at least have another go. He comes and talks to us again and we start to talk about what we might do next to see if we can at least try to make this work. First, he says he should have known it would be quiet on a Wednesday and that this might not have been the best night to try to kick things off. He suggests next Tuesday for another try. That’s quiz night. He says there’ll be a decent few in and it could be good to see what we can do with that with a few songs during the break. Brilliant. We’re on.

The London Diary: Camden, day 201

Day 201

Thursday January 25

It’s a nice surprise when Dominic gets in touch to see if we could go for that second try in Quinns tonight. OK. It’s comedy night. They tend to be busy nights and he says he really wants to see what we can do with a crowd. Brilliant. We’re totally up for that.

We’ve been to that night before. It happens at the back of the bar, a thick black curtain turning it into a separate room. Dominic suggests we turn up during the first half, set up, and then be ready to go when they come out for the break. He says it will be a cool surprise for them. Lovely idea. Yes. Let’s do that.

What can we say? It doesn’t work. It doesn’t just not work. It fails spectacularly. It’s something we would have suggested ourselves and indeed something we thought we could have connected with during the Edinburgh Festival. Hook up with a comedian, or a group of them, and play to their audience in the break. Or before. Or after. It’s something we’ve even thought of pitching to a comedian or two in London. So yeah. Dominic’s idea was solid and something we were fully behind. The reality is a full one eighty turn away from the theory. They’re there on a comedy night. Not a music night. And for the organisers, this is their crowd, no-one else’s. We’re not allowed to have it. 

So what exactly does happen? Well, as soon as we start playing, they start walking. Right out of the side door onto the street. And out there they all huddle and stay, resolutely, determinedly, waiting for us to finish as we play gamely and full heartedly to an all but empty and very large bar. We spiritedly take it to three songs but the writing is all over the wall, over the ceilings and out onto and across the street. Take this one on the chin. We were not wanted in here from the beginning and it had nothing to do with anything we were or weren’t going to play. They could have had anyone in here tonight and it wouldn’t have made any difference. Hell, they could even have had…The Diaries.

But all is not quite as disastrous as it may appear. As we’re taking our gear down, someone from a table in an alcove down the bar, a table that we couldn’t see, comes up and says disappointedly, ‘Is that it? Are you done?’ ‘Afraid so,’ I say. We were here to play for the comedy crowd in the break and they couldn’t have cared less so we just called it.’ ‘Well we thought you guys were great,’ he says. Oh. OK. Thanks. He goes on his way and we carry on packing up. As we do, more and more people come up to us to say more of the same. 

It’s fair to say we still feel a little downcast when we go and talk to Dominic, who was busy with other things and didn’t catch our blink when you miss it set. ‘It didn’t work,’ I say. ‘The comedy guys just didn’t want music in their half time break and we never had a chance.’ ‘Did people come up to you afterwards and say they enjoyed it and well done?’ Dominic asks. ‘They did.’ ‘You can’t ask for more than that,’ he replies. ‘That’s a success.’ We’re quick to let him know that we thought tonight was a great idea and it’s something we’d been thinking of for a while. But I add, ‘We’ll be knocking that idea on the head though. We’ve tried it now and discovered it doesn’t work.’ ‘Forget about all that now,’ says Dominic. ‘Shall we just carry on with playing in the break of the quiz next week like we said?’ Yes, yes and yes. And just like that, tonight never happened.

The London Diary: Camden, day 206

Day 206

Tuesday January 30

Unfortunately there’s not a massive turnout for the quiz. It’s a fun night but laid back night with a steady hum of energy. We respond to that at our halftime break slot by deciding to enhance the existing atmosphere rather than smashing into it in our usual style. We go for a low down version of Freefall followed by Sand Bang. Freefall gets a wonderfully chilled and appreciative reaction. ‘That’s a really good song,’ that kind of thing. But then Sand Bang really hits with a few cheers and whoop calls. A massive reaction in the circumstances.

This is all promising and we settle in and enjoy the night rather than pursue what’s next for us in here. We’ll leave that for another day and just enjoy the post quiz vibe. And anyway, a massive part of all this is to stay afterwards and chat to the people who’ve seen you. And yeah. Appreciate their appreciation. We really feel that tonight with a few very enthusiastic conversations during which we’re about other venues that would be receptive to us, along with the people in those venues we should go and talk to. Just wonderful local information. We also get asked a few times when and where we’re playing next. As usual, we have no idea. And while we may yet build up a futures roster, we really do quite like the drop in and play element we’ve followed through most of our gigging adventures. However, we do also say that we’re hoping to build something in here, so that could be something for them to look out for.

Yeah, we can’t yet say we’re in here every whatever day it might hopefully be, but it is really great to start to feel those little seeds of interest. However, we certainly think and hope we’ve done enough so far to book the next one in when the time comes for that conversation. 

The London Diary: Camden, day 211

Day 211

Sunday February 4

Tommy of The Marquis gets in touch. If you need a reminder, or are new to this, that’s the bar right by Trafalgar Square. One of his staff is leaving today and they’re having a big music day with a whole load of acts. Do we fancy it. Oh wow. Yes. We will be there. Thankyou very much. This will be our fifth gig in 17 days. We turn up totally matchfit and ready.


The main act of the day will be Tom McQ who will do his own full show from around 1pm to 4pm. I know opening acts aren’t usually the main act, but this isn’t to be seen as an opening act. It’s basically a separate thing with Tom completely owning the place for those three hours. After that, Tommy says, it will be a bit of a free for all, kind of organise as you go kind of thing. During all this, two bands which will include different staff members will be playing. The way it comes down is that Tom does his thing which we catch a good 30 to 40 minutes of. There’s a bit of a break, which has the effect of separating the two entertainment entities as I was saying. Then, once the stage and PA is all set up for the two bands, the floor is essentially free. We take the first spot, and then Brian of The Barrytones takes the second. After this, it’s band time to take us all the way to close at 8pm.

A word while we’re here on Tom McQ. He’s not just a singer/songwriter. He’s a whole event of a stage act, fully dressed for the stage, with the stage also fully dressed for him. He lives and breathes what he does and has done for years. In a three hour show, his own original songs fit right in among classic crowd pleasing covers. This is a trick so many acts find so hard to pull off as you spot the originals a mile off with the quality suddenly and very markedly dipping. Tom’s songs suffer no such fates.

I first saw him and met him when he played The Record Day at The Marquis in possibly 2015, an event I played at myself with Dan as The Insiders. Tom’s been playing there ever since and has progressed on the scene to the point that he managed to get a slot at Glastonbury last year. You can find him on instagram at tommcqofficial.

Tom has good support in here today, including a friend who owns a cocktail bar in Tottenham, north London, a place he plays at regularly.

As I said, I’ve known Tom for almost a decade. We don’t go and have coffee or anything regularly, or at all, really. But in the way of music scenes everywhere, whenever our paths happen to cross, no matter how much time has passed in between the last crossing, we come together as good friends. It’s also pretty cool that when we walk in today we get a big shoutout from him from the stage. Always helps the kudos and, yeah, lifts the ego a little. Cheers Tom.

He finishes his set, comes and joins us for a while, then does his mingling thing, then goes back to the stage to pull down so that the stage can be rebuilt for what’s going to happen for the rest of the day. Suddenly, looking towards me he calls out, ‘Hey Mark, come and have a look at this.’ So of course I do. Tom bursts into laughter. I wasn’t talking to you, he says. Here comes my friend who was sitting right behind you. He’s Mark as well. But anyway, you stay here too. This is pretty cool. Now Mark’s joined us, we have a little laugh between ourselves at what’s just happened and have a handshake hello. And that’s how I meet Mark. What Tom wants to show him/us is a signed guitar hanging up on the wall next to the stage area. It’s signed by Damien Dempsey to Tommy – Tommy in this entry is landlord Tommy. Tom is, well, the other Tom in this paragraph. As for Damien, if you’re not familiar with him, he’s a very successful Irish singer/songwriter from Dublin who shone hugely in the Meteor Awards between 2004 and 2009 being nominated for eleven and winning six, including best Irish male act which he’s won twice.

This is just one piece of signed memorabilia all around the bar which Tommy has been gifted over the years. The latest piece of memorabilia is a round plaque behind the bar, which was hung up in the place it actually happened for a while before being moved for reasons I don’t know. People probably kept taking it down and reading it and passing it around or something. That place was in the corner area where the stage is, and the plaque commemorates when Green Day played here in November, just a couple of months ago. Let me repeat that. Green Day played here in November just a couple of months ago. The story goes that Green Day had heard of The Marquis being a supporter of original music and had some cool bands. They began to follow the venue and saw videos of some of the shows they had. They were so impressed by the intention, vibe, and level of talent they saw that they decided when they were booked to play London next, they wanted to come and play here themselves. The only person who knew, until the day, was Tommy himself. The event made the news worldwide.

And it’s on this stage we’re going to play in half an hour or so.

I walk back to our table from the stage where Tom has been showing me/us the Dempsey guitar, and there’s a new addition, sitting on the other side of the table from Maja, facing the stage and minding his own business. He’s not gone and sat down with Maja or us or anything. He’s just found a seat going spare near the front of the bar and taken it. In the interests of togetherness and being social and all that we introduce ourselves to him and bring him into our company. His name is Ant. Cool. And that’s how we meet Ant.

A few minutes later, Mark turns up. Yes that one. He sits on the other side of the table from us as well, and he and Ant get talking. It’s clear they know each other very well. Soon, all four of us are chatting away, and during that time Tom comes and joins us as well. Of course he does. Those guys are his friends. Somewhere in the conversation Ant casually mentions a cocktail bar he owns in Tottenham and I’m like, ‘Oh, that’s your place that Tom was talking about.’ Yep. It was indeed. He asks a little about us and we tell him we’re playing in here today and have played quite a few times before as well. That gets his interest and we talk a little more about live music and stuff. I tell him a little more about us and he says, ‘You don’t need to sell it. You’re good enough to play in here. You’re in.’ And that’s how that can get done. Cool.

Pretty much at the same time as all this is going on, Per walks in. No, not totally unannounced and surprising like that time on the last afternoon of the 100 hour Jam in the Blues Kitchen. He’s in London for a short visit and we were intending to get together. We’ve let him know we’re playing in here today and here he is. Brilliant. He’ll also film our show. Brillianter.

That showtime arrives. So often we have to make the show and really force ourselves into the collective consciousness. But not today. The whole bar is ready and waiting for things to happen now. As we get set up, we’re on the main floor but looking up at a lot of faces looking back. Things are expected. OK. Let’s go. For the first time ever at any kind of show like this we start with a slow song. Sand Bang. Oh man, they’re with us from the first note. This song is atmospheric and cabaret/musical like almost. Unfortunately we had sound issues with the cordless mic so Maja is on a corded mic and unable to really roam as she would, especially with a song like this. But that really doesn’t seem to matter as it rumbles on and the crowd gets totally sucked into the drama of it. Then they get taken off as we near the end and the song takes off too. When we hit the last notes, there’s a slight pause before the applause and cheers soak over us. Into that pause a single female voice says, in her own hushed tones, ‘Oh wow.’ Hearing something like that is worth any number of applauses.

On we go and we hit them with three of our smash set songs, closing out with Make Me Shine. This feels like a London show. They’ve been with us all the way and so many people come up and talk to us or congratulate us after, or offer to buy us drinks. One guy even says, ‘You guys belong on Top Of The Pops.’ For our non UK readers, that’s the UK’s biggest ever chart show and was almost required weekly watching once upon a time. It’s been off the screens for quite a while now, but we know what he means. We will do our best to accommodate.

Back to our table and Ant and Mark are looking at us slightly differently from how they were ten minutes ago. We were not expecting that, is the general tone and sentiment. Yes. He definitely wants to see us playing in his place. It will be done.

As we talk more to the two of them now we discover they have a long Camden history of being on the live music and DJ scenes and are both still very active on them. Of course they are. Ant has his bar and Mark, among other things, is DJing in some very prominent places. Their histories in Camden go back 15 to 20 years. So rooted are they that Mark actually has a picture of him painted onto the wall inside The Good Mixer. To recap, that’s the Camden bar that was at the centre of Britpop and which was one of the main regular spots for Amy Winehouse among many many other stars. Inside the bar are paintings of notable regulars, all set in a single bar scene. Inside that scene, we now learn, is Mark. If that’s not established in Camden music I don’t know what is.

We stick around for the rest of the afternoon taking in Brian’s fantastic acoustic cover set then the two rock’n’roll sets from the bands belonging to various barstaff. Or the bands various barstaff are in. I don’t want to assume any dynamics here. Both are just brilliant and totally rock the place. This all goes right up until close. We say our goodbyes all over the bar, then the three of us – myself, Maja and Per – are off to The Blues Kitchen in Camden. 

What this means is getting the tube back to Camden, going back to our place, dropping off the guitar, picking up a bass, then walking to The Blues Kitchen. But there’s one more thing on the way.

As we’re coming up the escalators at Camden Tube station we hear a call from behind us. It’s Mark. Oh, hi Mark. Cool. He tells us he’s off to The Hawley Arms. This is another major bar on the Camden music history trail. He says he’s going to put a word in for us. Oh wow. And just like that we have another potential venue to aim at where we will already be spoken for. This is all quite a fantastic vibe and afternoon to take with us as we walk from our place and down the road to The Blues Kitchen for the Sunday Jam.

From today’s Marquis show

https://youtu.be/wdaF2GwBPCw

Sand Bang

https://youtu.be/GEH3mHr5MHo

I Like You (Better When You’re Naked)

The London Diary: Camden, Days 227 and 241

Day 227

Tuesday February 20

I think we can just say that life has been getting in the way a little bit lately, so not too much going on musically. Until tonight when we find our way, in just under an hour and two buses, to Ten To One Cocktail Bar, Ant’s fantastic place in Tottenham, north London. What we find is a really cool, perfectly rectangular shaped bar space, all set up for a kind of mixed open mic featuring comedians and singer/songwriters. Our first impression is that this looks remarkably like Laksmi, our favourite bar in Berlin. It’s largely painted red inside too. Oh, and right up to date. We recently unearthed what we had thought was a lost video from the last time we played there. Coming to a Youtube channel or thread near you soon. Back to Ten To One. It’s a single long space with a bar running more or less down one side. The stage area is on the left as you come in. This places it right in front of the window which gives it an earthy street backdrop, augmented by regular double decker red London buses which massively add to the experience and to videos we’ve discovered. Added to all this, a large neon bar sign provides really cool extra framing for performers.

As soon as we walk in, Ant looks up and is delighted to see us. We told him last week that we weren’t going to make it then but that we were hoping to this week, and here we are. The place feels immediately warm and welcoming and a few people take note of us after our effusive welcome. After all the hellos, he says that Den’s running the night – The Ramshackle Collective – and he’s already told her all about us. Just then, she turns up and says hello. Brilliant. Introduced, on the list and all good to go.

We settle down and are told we’ll be somewhere in the second half. Between now and then it’s something around a 60/40 split in favour of the comedy. People newish on the scene trying out new material, and people playing their first few shows, or even their first show, as they begin to find their comedy groove. I think stand up comedy is about the hardest thing you can do in entertainment and special respect is reserved for anyone having their first go at it, and indeed anyone just doing it at all. 

Den kicks things off with what she introduces as the theme song of the evening. Called Nowhere Parade, it sets the scene for where this venue actually is. On a tiny parade of shops in a quiet residential kind of area somewhere out in zone three. But then these can often be the kind of places you find the truly cool destination bars which this place very much aspires to be. Given its independence, full-on support of talent and original music, and the general vibe which Ant has created, it really could become a destination bar. A true London gem to be sought out and travelled to. It turns out people already do; during the night, Den asks for who’s come here the furthest. Someone who’s come here from out in Hertfordshire wins tonight, but we hear stories of people coming from much further afield for a night, and even the occasional international traveller is apparently discovering it, so something is clearly going on here. And Den sets the tone for the night fantastically with songs tinged with observational comedy and surreal social commentary.

As for Ten To One itself, as we sit down and look around, we see it’s made up of so much more than the venue area we’re in right now. Walk through this space to the right and there’s a pretty large outside covered area, all very well appointed with tables and chairs, kind of set up to kind of look like a diner. Then on the other side, up another few steps, there’s a lovely restaurant area. You really could pack quite a crowd into the whole place. And all of this in a former betting shop. Hence the name, Ten To One.

By the time we’re called up the atmosphere is well and truly warmed up. With Ant having invited us here especially after having seen us at The Marquis, we’re keen to 

demonstrate to him our range of repertoire. This may take some time over a period of weeks and more, but for starters we’re keen not to play any of the songs we played when he saw us. So tonight we go for Talk About The Weather and Rock’n’Roll Tree. Although we do open with Sand Bang which we also opened with at The Marquis. The reasoning there being that we haven’t yet done it justice live and really feel we’re ready now to get a solid full live performance of this one under our belts. And we do. This eases us really nicely into it and then we’re away with the next two. Which take us right up to the high energy levels that so impressed Ant at The Marquis, although we like to think he enjoyed the atmospheric and theatrical Sand Bang as well. But yeah. Talk About The Weather and Rock’n’Roll Tree. Two authentic smash set songs. And smash in here tonight they certainly do, with Ant rocking behind us and really getting into it as he keeps an eye on the sound. And yes. Having an actual venue owner appear to enjoy us as much as this really is a great boost.

When the night is all over, the buzz around the room is all about the high levels of energy of our set and how it all but put people through the ceiling. Ant is on it as well. He pulls us aside and looks at his calendar of events. He says he’s all booked up on his Wednesday night full set music nights until May, but he’d love to have us headline a show that night. He says we can look at this together over the next few months, deciding on any acts from here that could work well with us. So yeah. We’re in and we’re on. Our first offer of a headline show in an actual London music venue. 

We go home quite a different way to how we came here as we head out onto the street and find that the first bus coming our way is going to Archway. Oh, let’s do that. Which gives us a walk home from Archway, through Kentish Town and onto Camden. Right past the two places we lived in London before Ireland, and onto the place we live now.

And another thought or two on that Nowhere Parade song. Yeah. By London standards, Ten To One is a bit isolated and kind of out of the way. But that really makes it the true London hidden gem that it is. A place you really have to seek out or care about to find. And when you do, you know it’s yours and isn’t going to be beset by tourists. Yes the tourists are all fantastic, we absolutely love living in a place that people want to come all over the world to and we very much feel a sense of pride of that in our own Camden Town. But to know the places that are yours, that the tourists don’t know about – unless they really, really look – can be its own special thing too. It’s really what makes you a local. And knowing places like Ten To One and hopefully becoming part of them is what truly makes you a London local. And also being apart like it is, I’m guessing makes it a bit easier to attract and build its own local crowd. Its own community. And to have a chance of becoming part of that is its own kind of special. 

Day 241

Tuesday March 5

I told you life had got in the way a little bit. I think you can see that now with these last few entries being quite far apart. February 4, February 20, and now March 5. But here we are. Out and ready to go again. And yeah, I think I can say that we are pretty much on the trail again. It begins tonight with a return to Ant’s bar, The Ten To One Cocktail Bar in Tottenham. 

And once more a wonderful night of music, comedy and general hanging out and chatting to all the different acts and audience members. But there’s a slight shift for us tonight. We’re held right back until the very end when we’re actually called to close the show. We had no idea that was going to happen until Den announced us as the last act of the night. Second time out and we get that privilege. Fantastic. We grab it with all four of our hands and totally smash it with I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) – Ant had heard this one but we decided it really was time to unleash it on everyone else in here – an absolutely breathless My Game My Rules – of which we get our first full recording – and Fire. This is one of our more gentle songs although it does have a barnstorming finish. It’s also nice to show we can do something a bit more controlled and reserved. I feel it’s like we’re saying, look, we don’t have to blow the doors off every single time. Although to be fair, before we get to Fire, we already have pretty much blown the doors right off and everyone’s just desperately holding on to try not to get blown out with them. The reactions have been huge again tonight. And again, Ant seems to be really into what we’re doing. Yes. We really are feeling good about this venue. It’s relatively far out when you live in Camden with everything on your doorstep, but as I was saying in the last entry, very much worth the journey.

The London Diary: Camden, day 248

Day 248

Tuesday March 12

Mark:

Oh we’re so glad we’re filming things more and more now. In the earlier days, which encompasses both of our European tours and most of our Ireland adventures, we were reliant on other people to film us, but because most of our shows were in places we weren’t known, and by design we didn’t have friends with us, we often didn’t feel able to ask anyone to do it. Consequently, we have very little filmed record of whole swathes of gigs. One of the more disappointing experiences happened in Antwerp in August 2022. Someone was filming us and we asked if they wouldn’t mind doing it on one of our phones so that we could have it and send it to them if they wanted. They replied, in full friendliest of terms, oh don’t worry. I’ll send you my video. I could say we never received it. But maybe they just still haven’t got round to it yet.

Now fully armed with a telescopic tripod, we’re able to film consistently and reliably, and have managed to capture what is now all three performances at Den’s Ramshackle Collective night at the Ten To One Club in Tottenham, which is where we find ourselves again tonight. We’ve really not been on the hustle trail lately because there are other things we want and need to concentrate on, so it’s great to have this regular Tuesday thing we can come to whenever we want and have ten minutes or so on a great platform to do our thing. We’ve not even been looking too much at the residency thing lately either, although we have visited a few bars just to hang out and see how we feel about them. It’s also been kind of an idea to get to know people in the bars and the bar managers and so on, meaning that an approach to maybe playing there would be done in a softer, they know us now, kind of way rather than walking in off the street and doing a street hustle.

Just like last week, Den puts us on last tonight, which again is a fantastic privilege. We’ve decided to do two of our biggest sounding and fastest songs in Make Me Shine and The Cat. However, to throw a surprise in, we’ve decided to open with our most delicate song, Insanity. Yeah. The irony isn’t lost on us that our slowest, gentlest song  among a cacophony of smashers is called Insanity. Of the songs on our upcoming debut album, Insanity is the only slow starting one which doesn’t kick out of the gear in which it begins. We do have a few others like this floating about and waiting in the wings to be added to the repertoire, and a few mid tempo swaying type things, but nothing quite as all out gentle as this one.

As such, it appears our deliberate attempts to surprise worked, as we’re told later, by a few people, that they were waiting in full anticipation for this one to really kick in. But our real surprise is lying in wait and has been deliberately engineered. Having started with such a wonderful gentle thing, as soon as the last notes fade away, Maja charges in with ‘Go!’ And we smash straight into Make Me Shine. This juxtaposition is wild and makes Make Me Shine sound even heavier and more frantic than it usually does. And with our phone recording equipment being out there at the back among the audience, later on we’re able to hear the surprised laughter of shock as we hurtle through our second song.

Out of Make Me Shine and we plunge headlong into another enormous track – The Cat. This one really is full on with attitude, aggression and fun, all rolled into one. It contains one of my favourite chorus lines of ours: ‘I’m gonna rip it up spit it out smash it up I’m living on moonshine.’

We’re really getting to open up our repertoire in here. Three more songs to come next week.

It’s also really great to have found a place such as this which mixes it up more with a lot of comedians using it as a great place to find their voice and cut their teeth. You really can see the improvement in real time in people and that’s great to be a part of. And a few weeks in, it’s also fun to be a bit more familiar with some of the fun songs Den plays to introduce the evening and at various other points in the night. They really do lend themselves to audience participation and she actively encourages it at times. Many of these moments have become kind of our own Ramshackle Collective in-jokes, or whatever you would call them. Knowing her music and singing along to it makes you feel like part of a club. Which is kind of what they’re going for here as they look to build and build. We’re delighted to be playing our little part in that.

And here’s the full show. Insanity, Make Me Shine, The Cat

The London Diary: Camden, days 255 and 266

Day 255

March 19

Back at The Ramshackle Collective at Ten To One in Tottenham. Tomorrow Maja has to go back to Sweden for a few weeks. She possibly should have gone just a little earlier, but she really wanted to play here tonight, so the trip got put off until tomorrow morning.

Ten To One tends to close soon after the Ramshackle Night so to be able to properly meet some people and enjoy the hang as well as the show, it’s better to get in early. And just good to be around for the whole thing, we think. So nice and early tonight and, oh wow. The first thing we see when we walk in is that the place now has a stage. We can’t help but go straight up and stand on it and take in this new perspective. Ant looks up and says, ‘Yeah. We’re a proper music venue now.’ He really is trying to build something here. And with original music venues and venues in general closing down all over London and the UK, to see the trend reversed anywhere, and to see one opening up is priceless. I could say something similar about Tommy at The Marquis. And there’s a solid link between the two here tonight. This stage was put together between last week and this by Ant and Tom McQ, who regularly plays The Marquis. He’s here tonight and we go and catch up with him and Ant now. Between them, we hear of their own event going on in Walthamstow a week Saturday where Tom will be playing a full few sets of his own, and this time all originals. Before his show, and in between, Ant will be DJing. So a chance to see both of them fully doing their thing. Every other show I’ve seen Tom do he’s been in a situation where covers are kind of the thing, although it’s fine to throw some originals in. This will be a different evening so expect all originals. Brilliant. And Ant says that within his DJ sets he’s intending to play more and more original recorded music from upcoming bands. So that’s quite a few new stages, literally, being created in London as stages everywhere are being torn down.

Tom’s not playing here tonight. As a result I think I’m going to claim that tonight, the stage is ours. We don’t finish the show as we have the past two times, but it damn well feels like we do. Host Den has been at a comedy workshop and a bunch of the participants have come down here with her tonight. From here they have to get home to various parts of London and so won’t be staying too late. Den is really keen for them to see us, so asks if we don’t mind going on far earlier than the past few times. Really, we’ll go on when the host wants us to go on. We certainly aren’t taking closing the show for granted. But with the room being more full than we’ve yet seen it, and with so many of the people in it set to leave within the next half hour or so, we really do get the best spot of the night and it certainly feels like a closing set.

Fittingly, although we could have easily changed things around if needed, we’re planning to play two of our heaviest songs tonight with Nobody Said and Give Me The World. In between we’re playing one of those swayers I was talking about last week – Without A Gloria.

Tonight feels like a big show. It’s an open mic night, but our section of it feels like an event. I’ve seen few open mic acts ever get such a reception, and even fewer turn their, er, turn, into an event. It starts even before we begin due to a mistake as I forget to bring Maja’s mic to the stage when I bring my guitar from the back room. She saw me go out back and in all fairness assumed I would just bring the microphone as well. So there we are both on stage and all of a sudden we’re facing an expectant audience. Oh sorry Maja. I forgot your thing. So we have to leave everyone standing there while she goes through the audience to get it. As she starts to return, Ant decides to lead everyone in a steady insistent hand clap which accompanies her all the way back to the stage. With this, by the time she arrives, we are facing a very expectant room. Then she does something I’ve never seen her do before, insisting we’re not starting not beginning until the audience has closed up and moved up and in front of us at the stage. And so they do. From there, we have the room. Totally. And so it is that we get to close the first of the three of tonight’s sections. Brilliant. Job done, we can just go and chill out now and enjoy the rest of the evening. We’ve done our bit now.

Day 266

Saturday March 30

With Maja being in Sweden, I go to Tom’s thing on my own. I did mention it to a friend or two but no-one was able to make it, so here I am. This is happening at the Free Trade Hall in Walthamstow, an area a little further out in zone three, east London.

Ant’s DJ-ing before, in between sets, and after the show, with Tom playing on and off for the whole evening, and playing only his own original material, which is something I’ve not seen him do before. It’s great he’s created his own platform for this. Attendancewise, it looks pretty much full. Like comfortably full for a nightclub vibe. Which is really what it feels like. Ant’s playing all feel good, up tempo danceable songs, staying very much within pop and rock. A good chunk of 80s and 90s in there. And all around you can see people introducing themselves to each other with the room really feeling like something of a community. The kind of all in it together nightclub vibe I haven’t experienced since I don’t know how long, although to be fair, it’s also a long time since I’ve been to an actual nightclub, bars and live music venues having been more my thing since I don’t know when. I mingle a little and chat a bit with this person and that person, or have a quick interaction here and there. A hello to Ant. A quick word in passing with Tom. It’s just a really great night and a wonderful combination of DJ and live.

The London Diary: Camden, days 277 and 284

Day 277

Tuesday April 9

Maja got back late last night and we’re straight out the next night, which is tonight.

Another Ramshackle Collective at Ten To One, and damn those comedians are really upping their game. Even jokes we’re familiar with are starting to sound new. Routines are being honed to the point where, in a few cases, what were whole sections of an act are now just two or three lines. Even throwaway lines. This is crafting happening almost in real time in front of your eyes. It might also help that we haven’t been here for a few weeks, so improvements and changes become even clearer. But this is far and away the best evening we’ve had in here so far and they’ve all been great. But really, two or three acts in here tonight are better than acts that have been part of events I’ve paid to see. One of them closes tonight’s show, which means we don’t. But then, we didn’t say we were definitely coming and this guy was here first and got to be given the privilege so absolutely fair enough. His name is Baron Fortitude and he’s here prior to his upcoming performance at the final of the UK Musical Comedy Awards. I can say now he didn’t place in the top three, but that only speaks to what must have been the overall quality of the whole lineup.

As it is, we get to close the second section of tonight’s show and we do so with Freefall, How You Rock’n’Roll and Six Sense Lover. Den is great at introducing everyone and bigging them up and making sure they get a great and welcome reception and reaction. For us, she hints at what might be coming by saying to an expectant audience, ‘Hold onto your hats. It’s The Diaries.’ With that, we’re up and running. Unfortunately, there’s no video of this one, not anything we’re going to put up anyway, because there’s just too much hustle and bustle in front of the camera which was in the only place we could put it. But that’s just a mark of how successful and popular this night is beginning to become so we’ll happily take that.

Day 284

Tuesday April 16

Another entry in what is becoming more or less our weekly report on our goings-on at The Ramshackle Collective at The Ten To One Club in Tottenham. Oh, Den steps up for us tonight. She really steps up for us tonight. I said a few appearances ago that our part in the evening felt like an event. Well tonight it steps up even more. We’re closing the evening again, which Den tells us almost as soon as we arrive which is just brilliant and hugely appreciated. Between now and then, we sit back and enjoy another evening of music and comedy, again seeing all kinds of development here and there. Then it’s our turn and the atmosphere just changes to electric. This is up there with the time we walked into The Pull Inn in Ireland to Now Hustle and everyone already knew who we were and the room exploded in excitement that The Diaries had just walked in off the street unannounced. 

Oh, that was special. Of course our last show at The Trap and one or two more there, especially the time it was almost demanded that we  play after that fantastic Status Quo tribute show. We’d just popped in for a quiet pint or two, unexpectedly found the place hopping with a great live show, joyfully throwing ourselves into that environment. When we found ourselves contributing to the whole thing as we performed our biggest, most demanded and anticipated show up to that point. I think tonight has to join that list as the cheering starts BEFORE we play. Of course it’s no new thing for people to be encouraged to clap and cheer and give encouragement for acts coming to the stage, and hosts will often exhort people to go wild and clap and cheer and generally give a big welcome for whoever’s coming next. But this is a whole different level to that. This feels spontaneous and just up from out of the air. And real. Another thing we’re starting to see in here is that when people are there for the first time, they’re being told, ‘You have to stay and see The Diaries.’ And more often than not, they do. As I said, the cheers and whistles are reverberating off the walls even as we’re taking to the stage. Then Den rises to what has suddenly become something of an occasion and, like a boxing announcer, waves her fist in the air and declares, ‘On the sixteenth of April twenty twenty-four, please welcome … The Diaries.’ And the place is just up for it. We don’t even have Ant in tonight, the main man who owns the bar and who often acts as something of a cheerleader for us. We’ve got quite a few people in here for the first time tonight and everyone, it seems, is just carried off and away on the wave that seems to build and veer up at the stage as we reach it. We hadn’t planned for this reaction, or preaction if you will, but what we had planned rises perfectly to the expectation that we are now very much under. To be fair, if we hadn’t planned this, we probably would have done our turnaround on a dime again and done something like this anyway. But Maja is ready. And so am I. ‘Go!’ she shouts. And we’re off and away. Into Make Me Shine. A few seconds into this and the hand clapping starts and cheers fly up into the air. This is a song that explodes into a double chorus, the very business end of the song springing up, instantly fully formed. But then after that, the verse kind of takes it into somewhere bigger again. When that first verse comes up, the excitement raises in the room again and the cheers and calls and claps come even more urgently. And so it is as we go through the other songs in tonight’s planned repertoire, running through Talk About The Weather and I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). With that, Den come on stage and declares another triumphant evening over. But Maja’s not having that. She calls out that Den has to close the evening with her own anthemic song Take Your Bra Off. We think that’s what it’s called. Which is a fist waving singalong celebration of the comfort women feel at the end of the day when they’re finally able to remove this uncomfortable thing. ‘Take your bra off/ Take your bra off woman/ Take your bra off/ Liberate your bosom.’ I told you she was big on the surreal social commentary. Well, surreal doesn’t quite fit here, but maybe a unique take on social commentary. This is another brilliant song in her repertoire and rounds the evening off perfectly. But this time, Maja joins her on stage and the two of them blast it out as they celebrate the joy that is to be ‘In In In!!’

All done and a general hang out begins as the various acts get to mingle a bit more and talk to each other. This is where all the detail swapping and future show arranging and general community happens. And in among it all we meet Gabriel, who’s done his own stand up in here for the first time, lighting the place up with a spontaneous sounding infectious energy and a captivating innocence while at the same time hurtling very quickly towards the edge. He’s running his own open mic on Thursday next week in Finsbury Park and would love us to come. This is on the route of the first of the two buses we take to get here. He says he’s already decided to make us the main event. Brilliant. Thankyou very much. We’ll be there.

And here is that show complete with fantastic reception and introduction from Den.

The London Diary: Camden, days 293 to 300

Day 293

Tuesday April 23

Mark:

I’m going to blast through this Tuesday night as we have our now regular outing to The Ramshackle Collective night at the Ten To One Cocktail bar in Tottenham. It’s amazing we’ve found a regular place to play and have been getting such brilliant receptions. That continues tonight although we begin a little slower than usual, opting for Sand Bang to get things started. Then How You Rock’n’Roll and I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Now we’re up for this Thursday with Gabriel’s thing.

Day 295

Thursday April 25

Mark:

We have no idea what we’re walking into tonight but oh, does it turn into an amazing experience. Quite a small bar in what appears to be a high end restaurant place specialising in desserts by day and a bar by night. Gabriel’s got a few of the performers to come down from the Ramshackle Collective night, a decent extra cast of performers, and not a bad audience turnout. This is in Finsbury Park, north London, just one bus away from us, which is also the number 29, one of the most regular buses in London so not far off from getting a taxi really.

Gabriel’s welcomes as people arrive are massively effusive and it’s really nice to see that we know a few people here, especially as we’ve arrived decently early to be able to  settle in and hang out. And he very actively encourages mingling, saying that one of the aims of the evening should be that we all leave with a new friend. I think we do, as me and Maja mingle and chat with different people all night. You really can just go up to someone or sit down at a table and bang, you’re chatting like friends. We’re getting a similar feeling with Ten To One actually, and Ant’s event with Tom in Walthamstowe a few weeks ago had a similarly inclusive vibe. Seriously, more bars should be like this.

Gabriel  comperes with his own fantastically high energy, also performing a little seemingly off the cuff and frenetic stand-up between each act. And he puts us on very much towards the end when atmosphere levels in here are about at their highest. When it comes to our turn, he addresses the audience and says, ‘Guys, you have no idea what you’re about to experience.’ And then our name. Yes, a little bemusement from quite a few people, but we’re ready. Poised, Maja calls out, ‘Go!’ With that, we smash into Make Me Shine and the place just takes off. Oh, they’re into this. Even the guys behind the bar are joining in. Yes, they all seem to be thinking. Gabriel was right. They were not ready for this. When the song finishes, the eruption of cheers and applause is so loud I almost want to cover my ears. Just enormous. And we keep it right up there as we follow with Talk About The Weather, then I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) which people are still singing long after we’ve finished. What a fantastic night. 

And here’s the whole thing from that night.

Day 300

Tuesday April 30

Tonight’s a little strange for us. It’s The Ramshackle Collective again and we’re feeling like it’s time to try new things. A new song to start tonight, or at least a new song for this venue. Maybe we’re complacent, maybe we’re tired, maybe we’re just a little off. But a few too many loose moments leave us feeling not completely the best about it all afterwards. But Ant says it’s his favourite show of ours he’s seen. And similarly we get a great reaction from Rick when he sees the whole video. One of the reasons for this is the freshness and originality of our entrance. We tell Den how we’re going to start so that we can have the stage prepped and ready. With that we go to the back of the room and wait for our introduction. When it comes, we slowly walk out and through the room, getting a clap going and then beginning with the A capella Bang Bang, a song we wrote the night before our first gig at The Trap, and then performed the next day at our first gig in The Trap. It’s just kind of fallen off our radar a bit, but Maja suggested today that we bring it back, and so we do.

We’re deep in and it’s all gone off as well as we could possibly have wished with everyone joining in the clapping and the two of us making our way down the bar and singing it out. Then I get to the stage, pick up the guitar, and bang out a rhythmic snare type sound to take things up just that tiny level more. The idea here is that we finish the last chorus then I immediately bash out the intro to the next song, The Cat which has a big frenetic guitar intro. Except we finish the last chorus and I somehow manage to forget that we’ve already done the last verse, so I pull us back into that again. It’s semi trainwreck territory as Maja realises what’s going on and hesitatingly comes in again. With us going through this last verse, it also means we now have to do another chorus to re-outro the thing. In all, a very messy end to what had been such a promising beginning. 

If I can plead any mitigation it could be that I just had too many other things to remember. Once on the stage, first I had to put the capo on the guitar so that it was ready for the first song. Yes I could have put it on earlier, but that would have meant a capo just clamped to immobile strings for up to half an hour or maybe more. Not ideal. But no problem to put it on just after arriving on stage. Except I also have to plug the wireless in because the guitar won’t sit on the stand with the transmitter plugged in. To do this I have to go to the mixing desk, check where the faders are from the soundcheck we did earlier so that we could make our big entrance. So I’ve checked where the faders are, I’ve then taken them to zero, plugged the wireless in and put the faders back where they were. All this while continuing to sing at the same time. Maybe it’s no surprise I forgot we’d already done the last verse. It’s just also possible that this bubble so soon in sets the tone for the rest of the performance. Either making us uneasy, shaking the confidence a little, or doing that thing where you make a mistake and dwell on it, or make a mistake and continue to try to make up for it, so get tense, or too conscious or something and, self fulfilling prophesies and all that, another mistake or two drops in and so on and all that. It’s not really that bad, but enough that we notice and the flow just might not be quite what we would want. 

But there’s a huge but after all this. Ant is emphatic afterwards that this has been our best show yet in his place. Then Rick sees the video afterwards and without any prompting, says that this is his favourite performance of ours. And he’s seen everything. Everywhere. Wow. OK. What do we know?

There’s one more mildly strange thing that happens. We’d entered with Bang Bang, taking that as one of our three songs. So we get up, play The Cat after that, Followed by Rock’n’Roll Tree. We finish Rock’n’Roll Tree and we’re kind of starting to set our stuff down. But no-one in the venue moves. There’s no call for an encore or anything, but everyone’s just looking at us in some kind of anticipation like we’re not done. This really feels like an encore without being an encore. Or maybe Bang Bang was just seen as our way of getting to the stage and so what we’ve done only counts as two songs. I have no idea. We hadn’t planned for this but that’s OK. Into this temporary corridor of uncertainty a call comes out for I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Well, what else can we do? If you’re privileged enough to have a song requested, there’s only one thing you can do. Here we go.

We do get video of all this, but so far we haven’t put any of it up. Only private so that it’s there for us to show people maybe, which is how Rick saw it. He knows us well, knows our songs, is a very experienced performer and writer himself so knows what he’s watching and how to listen to and watch things properly. So that’s all fine. But this one for public consumption? Not so sure. As we’ve seen, the performances are off with at least one big mistake and clear stage confusion – not good at all – and also with the way we made our entrance, we tried to film the angle down the bar as we came in, and then Maja tried to move the camera angle to the stage as she reached it, but some objects on the table got in the way and she was concentrating on singing and looking at the camera image and stage, and with a microphone in one hand, only had one hand free as it was. And of course very limited time because this was supposed to be an instant operation. So that fiddling is going on and then the framing of the stage isn’t all that good either as a result. So yeah. Probably won’t be putting this one up. But, from what we gather, the experience of the show in the room was really good. The best yet, as we heard from Ant. That can be the case at times with live performances. There are even cases of famous live albums from major bands being received really quite negatively from people who know what they’re talking about. The line of thought here often goes that it’s possible the experience in the room at the time was so good that the decision makers decided to put that show out; the experience from the stage, and the experience of those in the room can be amazing, you want to share it with the world, then the cold hard reality of hearing the recording can be something quite different. It happens. It’s also why so many of the live albums you hear are fixed after the performance in the studio, just as you would patch in and fix a mistake in an actual studio recording. Yep. For big big productions which are intended as live albums, all the instruments are tracked as though in an album recording, and then individually fixed afterwards. So if you’re in a band, the next time someone says something like, ‘Can’t you rock out and play or sing without mistakes? XXX band/ musician/ vocalist does it on their live albums/videos, go listen.’ Well guess what. XXX band/ musician/ vocalist didn’t. It just sounds like they did. Well of course sometimes they probably did to be fair, but you know where I’m coming from. But no, of course this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t all practice or rehearse to minimise live mistakes. I guess it just means we should be a little kinder to ourselves and others when they do happen.

The London Diary: Camden, day 304

Day 304

Saturday May 4

Oh damn, where to start? I’m kinda coming right up to date at the beginning here because it’s now the beginning of July 2024 and we’ve written nothing in here since April 30, meaning we missed the landmark Camden day of 300. The simplest catch-all reason for this is that for the better part of two months, life has just got in the way a little. Well, not a little at all. We’ve really been thrown right off any kind of track and have had to spend quite a lot of time dealing with things way outside of music and private enough that they really don’t belong in these pages. That may yet change, but for now we’ll keep all that where it is. But we’ve been essentially good and doing well through it all and continued to have nights out here and there, just nothing particularly to write about. Apart from the drama which we’re not. Yet. Sorry. During that time, musicwise we’ve mostly just made sure to at least keep going to the Ramshackle Collective on Tuesdays at the Ten To One bar in Tottenham, which has been our touchstone although one or two did get missed. When we first started doing this, we saw it as a gentle but solid way to get ourselves back in after another previous period of relative inactivity due to life getting in the way at that time as well. It then became a way to keep in touch with our music while everything else was falling out of touch. But apart from all that, it’s a great bar, Ramshackle is a great night which we really look forward to, and we’re just really connecting with the bar in general, a lot of the other acts that play there although we’ve not been writing much about that either, and Ant and Den in particular. That would be bar owner and Ramshackle organiser respectively. 

Also, when we first saw that Ramshackle could be a regular enough thing for us, we had a thought that it could help us stay in live performance shape while we tried to get back to the debut album which, yes, we’re aware, is dragging on a bit. But yeah. Even that plan got thrown for a whole other while. Thinking it was time to concentrate on recording also meant holding back on pursuing other venues, while remaining open to opportunities should they arise. All again to save Maja’s voice and energies so that she could concentrate on the album, while still getting the live work in to keep developing and maintaining our stage muscles, stamina and just general performance levels individually and collectively. So, relative inactivity and a massive chunk of Diary consisting of mostly just Tuesdays has been the overall result. Regarding that determination to continue to play live, in however limited a way, through all of this, I came across a great quote recently which I’m not getting quite right, but I am capturing the central point: If you rehearse a lot you’re practising rehearsing and so you get great at rehearsing. If you play live a lot you’re practising playing live and so you get great at playing live. 

Yes, we still do the rehearsing thing, especially in trying to introduce so many of the songs we have which have yet to make it to the stage. But rehearsal alone really doesn’t come close to what you get by regularly putting yourself on a stage and having to do your thing in front of an audience that needs to be entertained. 

All that said, we do have a really cool thing going on today as we’re heading off to our favourite Ten To One bar again to play a livestream on the Japanese Niconico platform. The first purpose of this is to do a full 45 minute rehearsal to see if we really can keep up the energy of our biggest smash set songs for that amount of time. This is something we’ve never attempted before and we have an imminent 45 minute show in here, for which we’re hoping to get the date confirmed today. So this is us doing our thing on stage, really going for it gig style, while taking the opportunity to livestream ourselves on stage in a venue, with the doors closed, so this is ours until opening sometime early afternoon.

This is just an enormous thing that Ant has allowed us to do. To come here, with the bar closed, to do this and really stretch out and perform on stage as though it’s for real. We’re lucky enough that we can rehearse pretty much properly at home, a real luxury for apartment living in London. But to really blast it out full throttle for this long? And bounce and hammer the floor and dance to the rhythms like you would in a real show? No. That really would be taking too much of a liberty. 

In all the time of The Diaries, we’ve played very few full sets, and for where we are, 45 minutes does constitute a full set. And those we have played, we didn’t yet have the full repertoire of up and at ‘em songs we have now so we did have opportunities to drop off the intensity. So this really is a test for us and an opportunity for us to see where we really are with our own gig stamina. Can we properly keep up our customary sprint for that long?

Answer: Yes we can. Damn this is a good workout and a truly great in-situation rehearsal. Even better, Den’s come along to the bar this morning. And with Ant having to be away until we’re almost done, she’s our sole live audience member for our first real go at playing this many big songs in the same set. We also manage an audience of around 60 to 70 online which really isn’t too bad either, especially as we’ve just up and done it and not put out any mention at all. Among those are one or two people who have seen previous livestreams, so returning spectators. Even better. And among the comments that come in – with Maja translating of course – is one saying that we should be playing The Toyko Dome, which is an actual stadium. I’m sure there’s a lot of politeness in that comment, but still. Oh, and that 60 to 70 figure. We also discover afterwards that our feed was glitching quite badly so that would have put a lot of people off. Understandably. It would certainly put me off. So without that, maybe we would have done even better regarding numbers.

After we’re all done, we have a chat with Ant and we confirm a date for our show here of Thursday June 6. It’s a full evening in which we also have to choose two acts to play before us. So yeah. Our first London headline show all booked and ready to go.

Some more may well be going up, but for now, here’s a look at one of the songs from the Japanese stream. Rock’n’Roll Tree.

The London Diary: Camden, days 307 to 335

Day 307

Tuesday May 7

A slightly unusual set choice tonight at Ramshackle as we decide to repeat what we did last week with the Bang Bang/ Sand Bang intro. Not a massively attended night tonight which does reduce the impact a little of this kind of entrance and on the ensuing video, but really good to have got this in the can so to speak. Also, on watching it back before posting in here, not massively sure about the tempo clapping at the beginning. It’s great everyone joins in but it doesn’t lend itself to clapping throughout the whole thing so that element kind of tails off somewhat. Something to think about for future outings of this combination should we do it again anytime.

We follow this up with two big smash set songs – the heavy metal-ish My Game My Rules and the very punkish The Cat. A proper barnstorming end to another great evening at The Ramshackle Collective at The Ten To One Bar.

Day 315

Wednesday May 15

We gave the regular Tuesday night a miss last night because we were both a little under the weather. We’re going to be missing next Tuesday’s as well. 

Day 323

Thursday May 23

Which brings us to today. Den messages to say that the next coming Tuesday is almost full with just one spot left. Do we want it? Oh yes. We very much do. After two in a row missed, we have already been feeling so up for it for next week. It’s also really, really cool to be asked for in this way so we are not going to pass that up at all. We will be there. It’s also an opportunity for us to start getting the lineup together that we’re going to play with in our first full London headline show in here on June 6. We need two support acts and we’d love Den to come along with us and open. And after that, we had the idea of getting in touch with my old friend and cover duo partner Dan to come along and do a set of his fantastic bouncing, dreaming, soulful originals. I’m really happy to report that both are very up for it and, with that, we have our lineup.

Day 328

Tuesday May 28

Which leads to tonight. One of the best in here so far, if not the best. Wonderfully attended with a fantastically responsive crowd and a night when everybody really brings their A game. Including a guy called Jeb from Canada who’s in London for just two days and has decided to come here and play one other arranged show somewhere, I’m sorry I can’t remember. And a singer/songwriter called John who’s come to London from Nottingham, about 130 miles away, just to play The Ramshackle tonight. Well, to have a day out in London while he’s here as well, but ostensibly just to play here. Ladies and gentlemen, this is where this thing is getting to now. We ourselves have gone and played open mics in different countries and have marvelled at the end of the night when they’ve brought out their regular person to play last, thinking what a cool and privileged position that is to have. Now we’re that thing to people when they come to England and to London to play.

Day 335

Tuesday June 4

You could be forgiven for thinking we’re currently doing Ramshackle and absolutely nothing else all week every week. Live, at least, that has been the case to be fair, but we have also been out and about here and there. Sometimes just on a hang in various bars, but in some bars we’ve been gently showing our presence and generally making ourselves known, mostly in Camden. It’s just that so far, nothing much Diaryable has happened. It’s more a case of if and when we do manage to get into any of those venues, we could at that point recount the story of how that happened. A lot of this is due to my own (Mark) deep distrust of ‘promoters’ at grassroots level and a reluctance to get involved with them, so we’re trying to make it our own way. And we’ve said between ourselves that if there was a good, well connected local music scene with local bands really thriving, we would have just found it by now. I think it’s existing somewhat, but in pockets and dotted about venues more than as an actual movement or scene. The general way a ‘promoter’ ‘works’ at grassroots level is to sign up bands for their shows and then sell them tickets for them to sell on. Or to tell acts they must commit to bringing a certain number of people, usually between ten and thirty. In this, they often state that if the act fails to deliver that number on the night they won’t be able to play. The thing is, even if you are able to bring thirty of your friends, how do you then play another show within even three months if this is the only criteria under which you can play? Even if they do come to your show three months later, you can’t bank on them at all for any show after that. They’ve done their bit. They’ve seen you play. Maybe satisfied their curiosity. But again and again? Not realistically. Not outside the most loyal friend or family member. And yes, in this model, a promoter or venue will often stipulate that an act can’t play another gig within a certain radius of their venue two months before or after. Moving cities now, but I once tried to book a gig for my blues band in Madrid. I actually managed to pitch an owner and we were on to talking about dates. Then he asked where else we were playing. I very proudly told him of a gig or two we had coming up and that was that. The conversation was over and he just walked away from me. All of which explains what I’ve observed anecdotally, which is that promoters will book grassroots bands from way out of town. Why? Because it becomes their big gig in London and the whole family and the rest go on the trip with them. And that makes up almost their entire audience. But if this is your big gig in London and the only people, or 95 per cent of the people in your audience are people you’ve brought from your home town or city, have you even played in London at all? Well, I suppose you categorically, geographically have. But played to London? Hardly at all. You might as well have just put your house or local pub on the back of a lorry, brought it all the way here and played in that.

I think at this stage we also have to have a look at the general economy and state of play in London. Bottom line, the price of drinks has just gone too high that so people aren’t casually going out to gigs as they once would have done and so those very types of gigs have really tailed off. More than my own anecdotal experiences, I’ve seen this case stated a few times by venue owners saying the very notion of a grassroots scene is close to being financially untenable. I know we’re a few years on now, but a lot of venues didn’t survive the pandemic. And on that, even many of those that did, only survived because they were bought up by multi-national bar companies who were able to ride out the situation until the bar could be opened and become a viable business again. But of course, under such management, it wasn’t going to be an independent venue anymore. Sure the managers can still put on gigs if they want, but those gigs need to make the bar money and immediately. There’s no, ‘Oh, let’s put something on and see what happens,’ or, ‘Let’s see if we can build something here.’ No. It pretty much has to financially deliver on day one or not at all. So they do the not at all thing. That’s a totally understandable business model, but when it’s almost the only game in town, it means there almost isn’t a game in town.

All of which is why grassroots music and entertainment needs people such as Ant and bars such as Ten To One more than ever, and further to that, people like Den and her Ramshackle Collective night encouraging people to come out and play and watch and generally participate. And on this subject you absolutely have to include Tommy at The Marquis. Damn. That place has slipped off our radar a bit, but that, for us, is more a life getting in the way kind of thing which you may be aware has been quite a bit a bit of a thing in the past few months. We haven’t been the best communicators with Tommy in that either to be fair and I’m not entirely sure how that develops moving forwards but yes, it would certainly be nice to get something moving there again. We have been in a few times just for a drink or two. But as you’ll see over the next period, with this being written around six weeks behind, other things are maybe, just maybe, starting to develop for us meaning we really haven’t had as much opportunity to go, at least not during quieter days or evenings. We have been a few times in the past few months on Friday or Saturday nights and it’s been great. But that also means it’s been full on busy with the tunes really kicking off from their fantastic vinyl selection. Not really the best time to be trying to get the attention of the manager for a chat about things. 

Which brings us back to our regular Tuesday night at The Ramshackle at The Ten To One Bar. Another really fun night but a small audience for this one. It can go up and down. We’ve not even put out anything from tonight. For some reason we didn’t get a great sound on the recording, the audience is a bit quiet on it because it was one of those quiet nights, and our performance was a bit rough and, well, ramshackle. But hey, we’re still getting out there and doing our thing and developing as performers. And that, really, is what it is all about. Now we’re ready for our next thing. Our first full show in London when we get up and do our thing for a full 45 minutes. And that’s happening in here, in The Ten To One Bar in two days time on June 6.

The London Diary: Camden, days 337 to 354

Day 337

Thursday June 6

All very cool as we play our first headline show in London today with that 45 minute set in Ten To One. And yes, we go with exactly the same set we dress rehearsed in the Japanese live stream we did in this same venue a few weeks ago. Den is in here to open for us tonight, and I’m also reunited with Dan tonight who is going to go on second with his own set of originals. It’s really great to hear those songs live again. Brings back a few memories of when it was me and him going round playing full cover sets, but also every now and again going off to play an open mic to bash out a few of his. A few real gigs with those as well. And here they are tonight. Beforewhich we get to hear a whole load of Den songs which we haven’t heard before and it’s an absolute joy of nostalgia and surreal whimsy. Even a comical zombie song. What else?

And then we get to do our thing and for the first time he gets to hear us do our thing which I’m really pleased about. And we really do smash it out. But unfortunately, not the greatest of turnouts with Ant saying there was a party in here tonight which a lot of locals came to so it’s unlikely they’ll be in here again tonight. And no they aren’t. We’re assured that this won’t be the case next time. Because once we’re done, Ant says he’s really up for doing this regularly with us. Every two or three months or so. Oh wow. Just like that we have a regular full gig.

Grassroots gigs. Small audiences can happen. It’s a thing and part of what you buy into so that’s fine. You hope to build on the smallest of beginnings. That’s what it’s all about. The real minor downside from tonight is that we get no useable video. That’s because there’s one table in here that just constantly talks all the way through. And loudly too. Also kinda close to where our camera is set up. On the video it just sounds like they’re totally competing with us all night. Through every single song. For the full duration of every single song. Even during applauses they continue shouting across their table at each other, completely oblivious to the fact that there’s a gig going on in here. Oh well. It’s a public bar, they have every right to use it as they please. But…please. The thing is, there are two back areas they completely could have taken over if they’d wanted. It would have been quieter and therefor easier to talk in those places and they still could have heard the show if they’d wanted it to be a kind of background to their own thing. But no. They had to sit in the middle of the audience and right near our camera and do it. So yeah. No useable video from our first London headline. Shame. Thanks guys.

Day 339

Saturday June 8

One of those kind of lovely days we haven’t been massively Diarying so I thought we’d get one in here. We decide to take a walk into Soho. From our apartment in Camden, a brisk walk can get us there in about half an hour. Once there we head into Chinatown where we find a nice Korean restaurant for ramen. Then another walk down the street sees us discover a great sports bar for the main event of the day. The women’s French Open final. Which we get to see in our new discovery Clubhouse 5. A just about everything sports bar which has a variety of sports on all its TVs downstairs, and has dedicated its entire upstairs area to today’s final. Result. 

Day 349

Tuesday June 18 

Maja was away with work last week so we didn’t do our Tuesday Ramshackle thing. We’re back tonight though, and with a brand new song. Till Sunset Burns. This is not one of our explosive songs. Instead it’s a slow burning, almost singer/songwritery thing which winds its way into an epic chorus, hits a few patches of light and shade, and then launches into a huge, wandering and building outro which rises to quite a few different peaks. It’s a really good feeling to have a new song worked in and in the actual live repertoire now, and it gets a very encouraging reaction. We’ve got a lot of new songs to come, of many different styles. Slow burns like this one, a few big ballady type things, a few out and out rockers and, frankly, metallers, and a few of the happy-go-lucky whimsical type. 

Day 353 

Saturday June 22

We get a message from Gabriel today asking if we’re interested in playing the bar of his friend Anna, who we also met when she came to his event that we played a few weeks ago. We spoke to Anna about this bar at Gabriel’s event and there was talk of us playing it at some point, maybe. Well, here we are. Brilliant. We get right back and say yes, absolutely. We’d love to. It’s put in the diary for Friday July 19 at bar Cava-Ri in Norbury, south London. So that’s a trip across the river to play a gig. That will be the first time that’s happened.

I’ll cover this bit now. We see the bill a week or so later and it looks really interesting. A comedian, a belly dancer, a compere duo featuring Gabriel, and ourselves. This looks like a really cool event to have been asked to be a part of.

Day 354

Sunday June 23

Me and Maja have been playing pool every now and again at a few bars in Camden. And Maja’s also been recently introduced to snooker on the TV, mostly with the world championship final a few weeks ago in May. We got to talking about snooker and she said she’d really like to try it. Even if just the once. Just to see a real table. Maja’s never seen a full size snooker table.

At a Ramshackle event one evening a while ago we mentioned this to Ant in conversation and he was like, ‘I play snooker all the time. Give me a call sometime and we’ll arrange it.’ Wow. Did not see that coming. So yesterday I messaged him to see if he was up for it today and he was. Which is how we’ve now come to find ourselves in a snooker hall in Finsbury Park, a place he comes to regularly. He leads us in, asks for his usual table and we go out the back of the bar to enter an old style theatre type venue. We’re not going in there though. Instead, we take a side door which leads to a staircase, and upstairs a large room containing four full size snooker tables. And we have the place all to ourselves. Maja gets a brief introduction to the basic rules, which is pot a red, then a colour – black if it’s on as that’s worth more – then a red and so on until you stop when you reach a score of 147. Although that last part might be for the slightly more advanced players. For the likes of us, I warn Maja that the pockets are lot more unforgiving than what we’re used to in pool. If the ball isn’t headed directly to the centre of the pocket, it’s probably not going to go in. There’s very little rattling in off the jaws like there is in pool. 

Rather than winner stays on or anything like that – because games of snooker can take ages – we’re all going to play in the same game, taking it in turns around the three of us. Ant breaks, because he knows how to and it’s a good opportunity to introduce us to that element. He does it expertly, gently separating a few reds from the triangle while bringing the white all the way back down the table to near where it started. Maja’s up next. Now, I’ve played a fair amount of pool with Maja, including on a few tables we’ve found around the bars in Camden. She’s not the best. And now here she is taking on snooker. With the nearest available ball far further ahead than the longest pool table she would have played on. The white is somewhere around the still spotted green and brown. She bends down to the table and gives it a good whack in what looks like the general direction of a loose red sitting off to the left central side of the pack, somewhere between the zones of the pink and black. Not only does the white smash the red with full force, the the red then goes bounding off to make that lovely snooker whacking sound to go directly into the bottom corner pocket. Maja’s first ever shot on a full size snooker table and it’s one that would have been applauded in The Crucible. For those not into snooker at all, that’s the traditional venue for the world championships, and having to explain that has forced me into a somewhat unsatisfyingly clunky ending to a wonderful little anecdote. It’s a shot that causes all three of us to reverberate in wonder and takes a few shots to calm down from. Not those kind of shots. We have a serious game going on here. But seriously, I think we could all just call it a day and go home there and then. Peak reached. Job done. There’s only one star of today’s outing.

But we stay and put in a few really fun frames with Maja, if not quite pulling of that level of shot again, sinking a few very respectable more balls nonetheless. Who knew a low to middling clumsy – if we’re being fair – pool player could come and boss it like a natural on a snooker table? She has snooker veteran Ant quite speechless quite a few more times today, but never moreso than that first shot. Sorry for going on about it, but I think it’s one of the most remarkable moments of sport I’ve ever seen, certainly among friends. 

That wonderful little adventure done and we’re off for Sunday part two, which is to find a lovely pub in the area and have a beer garden Sunday lunch and a few early evening summer beers. Which we also achieve quite spectacularly. Yes. This is a Sunday that’s been totally Sunday’d.

The London Diary: Camden, days 363 to 375

Day 363

Tuesday July 2, 2024

Out for our regular Tuesday today and we can now add another regular to our dates. Regular comedian and very much friend of the Ramshackle Antonio asks us if we’re interested in doing a gig with him every Monday. Wow. Yeah. OK. This is to be a comedy night in Highbury, north London. The idea is for us to play in between the various sets of comedians he books for each night. Brilliant. For a long time we’ve been thinking we would be a good matchup with a comedy night. This was part of our thinking when we went to the Edinburgh Festival where we managed one great night of performance but drew a blank absolutely everywhere else. But now here in London, almost a year to the day since then, we have become a booking for a comedy night. Brilliant. Oh, and the venue is just two train stops away from us on the overground from Camden, which itself is super close to us. Less than 20 minutes door to door.

As for tonight, we’re back after missing last week and we decide to give new song Till Sunset Burns another runout. It really is good to be starting to get some of the new ones out now. We have quite a few waiting in the wings to get their own starts sometime in the coming weeks and months.

Day 368

Sunday July 7

Second time out with Ant playing snooker today. Brilliant. This time we don’t have the upstairs venue to ourselves. Which was lovely last time, but today there’s a bit more of an atmosphere in here, even with just two or three other people, which is its own kind of special. And one of the regulars in today is having his own practice session which he invites Maja to join. Which means me and Ant get on with having our own game while Maja gets to learn from a snooker jedi. ‘Watch out,’ says Ant. ‘She’ll be kicking all our arses by the time she’s finished over there.’ Yes, she does indeed return to us armed with a whole new set of skills. And given the rate at which Maja learns, there may well be a bit of snooker related kicking going on around here soon. After this it’s onto a local pool hall for a totally different experience. There must be around 20 tables in here, all buzzing with games and fizzing with shots. To that we add our own. And after battling the huge wide expanses of a snooker table all afternoon, rather than making any great claim to cue mastery, I think it’s at least fair to say this is very much like running on a road after training on sand.


Day 369

Monday July 8

The first of what is now set to be what we do on Mondays. Yep. The Diaries’ first residency. This is a free comedy show in a really cool community hall type venue above The Brewhouse and Kitchen bar in Highbury. Normally when you say above a bar you think a place up a bunch of stairs and kind of secretly hidden away. This isn’t like that at all. Instead, it’s fully up front as you enter the beer garden that you have to walk through to enter the bar proper. As you do, if you look up you’ll see a glass fronted room which is reached by a staircase from the beer garden itself. So, very open and not at all secretive. However, there is another way to reach it and, having missed the front entrance, we do indeed go through the bar. To be directed to a staircase at the back of what really is quite a large bar. Up that staircase we go to find a long, dark corridor. Still no sign of any venue. So we sheepishly venture down the corridor wondering exactly where it is we’re heading. Of course, there’s only one thing to say, nay, shoutout, fists aloft, in such a situation. And yes, we do. ‘Hello Cleveland. Hello Cleveland.’

End of the corridor and we still haven’t found anything. Just a door leading to the open air. Oh. OK. But oh. We step outside to find ourselves on a balcony overlooking the beer garden. Behind us is a glass frontage and what looks to be something of a venue. I do believe we’ve found it. Yep. Here we are and there’s Antonio and his co-host and drag performer Rubynia. Welcome to The Funny Brewer. 

Not massively attended tonight, but a good smattering of comedians and a few friends that have come along with them. There is a bar up here, but it’s unused so we’re all kind of on our own and it’s set up as a seated venue, all in rows facing the performance area. Behind this Antonio has set up a projector onto which the name of each performer is displayed behind them as they do their thing. Brilliant. Everyone has their own backdrop. So no, this is not an open mic, instead it’s a curated evening with everyone having been booked, and ourselves in there introduced by Antonio as the headliners. Yep. We’ll take that.

Right from the beginning we’ve said that we’ll play to 10 people like it’s ten thousand. Damn, we’ll play to one person like it’s ten thousand. Antonio has exactly the same mindset. The lights go off, the music comes on. Then he’s on the prowl, walking up the aisle in between the seats, a big welcome through the speakers from Rubynia behind him, so we hear, ‘Now please, welcome to the stage, Antonio Fadda.’ And here he comes. Just like he’s walking through his own comedy club full of hundreds, maybe even thousands, of cheering spectators all seated in thrilled expectation of a great night full of never before seen wonders. This is the image you need to project. As people are watching you, could they imagine you on the big stage? In the stadium? In front of a baying crowd, on your side or not? Because if you come out meek, that’s all they’re going to say. No, they could never cut it in a real arena. Or they just won’t see it. But come out and own the place? That person might be thinking, ‘You know, maybe. Just maybe.’ Or even, ‘Oh yes. I can see this now.’ Hundreds. Thousands. This is just what it would look like. And yes, this person could be up there doing it. Yes, I see them on the stadium stage, or walking among the aisles of the huge comedy club.’ Maybe they even imagine it as they’re watching them up there doing their thing. I’ve seen it myself at a few tiny open mics. Two particular performers come to mind. One was the first time I’d ever seen it. On the stage in the tiny upstairs venue at Fred Zepellins in Cork, Ireland. He  came out and, seriously, I could have sworn the guy was on a west end stage and had projected his hologram to us little mortals who could only make it to an open mic in Ireland. The other was Sally in Madrid. The first time I saw her on a tiny stage in a basement bar that looked like a cave – at Triskells incidentally – I thought, ‘I’m watching her at Wembley. She is on the Wembley stage right now.’ A little while later, quite a while later, she was the singer in my blues band.

And now this is Antonio. Right here. Fully formed. Already huge, no matter the size of the audience. Rubynia is also very game in this environment and fully puts it out there in the staple of the drag queen. The lip sync performance.

A few comedians do their thing, Antonio compering between them, then it’s our turn. What’s been decided is that we’ll play during the break. So, comedians on. Then us. Then on with the show. Problem. And I really did see this coming. We’re in a room upstairs with a non-functioning bar. The real bar is downstairs. The toilets are also at the end of that very long corridor we came down and it’s not ideal to sneak out to the toilet at a sit down comedy show. So as soon as the end of the first half is announced and it’s our turn. Yep. You know what’s coming. Everybody leaves. Everybody. Remember I said we’d play to one person like it was ten thousand? Well, ta daaa.

That one person is Rubynia who very graciously stays behind and takes in our entire performance of four songs. Not only that, but she really fully gets into it. I like to think that we have something to do with that and it’s not just pity reactions. I really don’t think so. As we get to the end, people are starting to come back, and when we finish our fourth and final song, there are big shouts for encore. Well, as big a shout as four people can make. What can we do? Can’t let down our public. That wouldn’t do. Wouldn’t do at all.

Hello Cleveland…

When it’s all over, myself, Maja, Antonio and Rubynia all stay behind and have drink in the now empty(er) venue. It’s a great setting and really quite dramatic. This could well be the beginning of a movie and I make that point as we’re sitting there. Newly cleared venue, still brushed with the sparse detritus of an audience. Chairs scattered and musical and stage equipment half put away. And us sitting at a table we’ve pulled to the back/front? of the venue so it’s now at the long wall to wall windows looking out onto the balcony and Highbury high street beyond. We tell each other it’s all a really good show. Just needs to be found by an audience. There’s also a rethink of our half time show. Not quite The Superbowl was it? It’s decided that instead of playing the interval next time we’ll be integrated into the actual show itself. Not fully thought out yet, but the direction of thinking is that we’ll play two songs at the end of the first half, then two songs to bring the second half back in. Yep. Sounds good.

Day 370

Tuesday July 9

So this is two regular gigs now. Out at Highbury on Mondays, then in at Ramshackle on Tuesdays. Yes, Ramshackle is an open mic, but we feel we’ve adopted it as so much more and that does feel mutual.

And oh, we just missed out on Ramshackle and Ten To One being our 100th gig. Tonight is gig number 99.

But.

First, it’s happening on the ninth.

Second, someone in here has a birthday tonight and they’ve brought along a cake to share with everyone. It’s a flake cake. The flake is the chocolate bar used to make a 99.*

Third, we get our 99th follower on Instagram.**

*I always thought it was called a 99 cos it cost 99p. But I’ve just looked it up and this thing was first put together in the 1920s when it couldn’t possibly have cost 99p. And no-one knows where the name does come from. Theories apparently include two different addresses where the first ones were constructed – 99 Portobello Street in Portobello, Scotland, and 99 Wellington Street in Manchester. Maybe they cost a penny or something like that back then. Four quid or more now. But inevitably, at some point between those prices it would have cost 99p. Which I seem to remember them being when I was a kid.

**Our 99th Instagram follower is comedy drama performer, Marigold. She’s taken an excerpt out of her one woman stage act as an isolated performance for open mics and the like. When she says she’ll do the follow thing, we have no idea we’re at 98. Oh, and I should mention that our relatively low number of followers could be attributed to us having only recently re-picked up on actually using Instagram. We’ve also quite possibly not been as active as we could have been.

The only thing we were possibly missing tonight was red balloons.

But…

Day 375

Sunday July 14

We’re back in at Ten To One tonight. Not to play, but to watch the soccer Euro 24 final. Which somehow and incredibly, England have made it to. The colours of the English flag are red and white. We enter the bar tonight and it is full of…

Drum roll

Drum roll

Drum roll

Red balloons.

For the second Euros in a row, England make it to the final but lose. Still, fun to be making it to finals. Before the last Euros, and with the glorious exception of 1996, England’s record in this competition had been disastrous to mildly acceptable. Now they’ve helped us mark gig number 99. Now, onto 100.

The London Diary: Camden, day 383

Day 383

Monday July 22

I’m about to do that thing we do every now and then when a whole bunch of time gets thrown out in one entry. That can sometimes be for reasons of catchup and sometimes for reasons of, well, not a great deal of difference has been happening for a while. Here, we’re just about in the middle of those two scenarios. 

I’m writing out loud here and thinking we may just cover the whole next period in just one entry which would be about two months. An actual daily entry or two may make its way in. Let’s do this little next bit together and see how we go.

First, I’m just going to throw in a whole load of Mondays and Tuesdays that we do. We’ve written about a whole bunch of Ramshackle events at The Ten To One Bar in Tottenham and we continue to do a whole bunch more of them. Ditto the Monday nights until late August when we start to think that we’re neglecting other opportunities and open mic nights and the like that we’ve never been to because, well, they happen on Mondays and Tuesdays too. So, not to stop entirely, and totally grateful for all the stage time and such we’ve been able to take on. We’ve also really felt a lot of much needed improvement and consistency through these events because, yeah, as we’ve said a couple of times, life has got in the way a little bit in a kind of non-Diary way meaning momentum and actual performance level has taken a few knocks. So having these regular Tuesdays and Mondays has been fantastic to pull ourselves back up while hopefully pushing the level on at the same time. But now yeah, a little step back to maybe see if we can take a step forwards. Or at least sideways. New thoughts of NOW Hustling are also starting to creep back onto our horizon. For one reason or another we’ve not done that in London. Just the once in Shoreditch and that was only because a planned gig fell through so we went off in search of another one, which we found in The Old Reliance with Mario. Oh damn yeah. That could be a good place to get back to.

I’m well aware this is going to sound a touch boasty or big headed but we’re saying it If anyway. We’ve been talking about it and we agree we’re kinda at the point where we have to announce from any stage that all the songs we’re playing are actually our own. Most of the time you see singer/songwriters play their own songs and you just know they are originals. They can be very good songs of course, but something inside you just knows they aren’t playing covers. Although I have seen some bands or solo people play songs I’ve thought were amazing originals and have then been sometimes, yes, heartbroken, to learn that they were indeed covers. Sometimes I’ve not learned that till years after the fact. Torn anybody?

We now know that sometimes people just assume the songs we’re playing have to be by famous people, or some unknown songs from somewhere that are in some way professional and/ or successful and we’ve just decided to play them ourselves. We’ve had instances of people coming up to us and making requests then recoiling in impressed shock when we tell them we’re not a cover act and that these are all our own songs. Again just a few days ago, someone completely matter of factly, as though of course nothing else could be the case, asked where we found the songs we played. She said, very politely and with no tone of accusation, more curiosity really, is it just that you listen to a lot of music, hear a song you like, learn it and start playing it. She almost fell off her chair when we replied simply, no. We wrote them ourselves. Happened again in another bar recently. The William IV in Hampstead actually. We’ll get to that. It might be one of those usual daily entry things now I’ve just reminded myself of it. Nice round of applause after our third song. Maja announces that all three have in fact been all our own songs and the place erupted. Yeah. People often assume we’re an acoustic cover act. Because, hey, there’s no way those songs aren’t already hits in some way, right? There’s now way those people up there we’re watching on a tiny stage in a regular bar could possibly have written them themselves.

We get it. It does make a kind of sense; over the past 20 years our music experiences and sourcing have become so increasingly fractured, personal, generational, any-other-kind-of-groupable, that even people totally in touch with many things media and entertainment can find that huge monster hits and totally otherwise stellar artists have somehow slipped and sailed quite loudly and proudly under their radar. I’m only vaguely aware Brat Summer exists. Is that even what it is? I didn’t check. It’s not like I have a computer, internet or a Google search anywhere handy as I’m writing this.

The London Diary: Camden, days 376 to 380

Day 376

Monday July 15

So, our hundredth performance has arrived and it is claimed by Antonio’s The Funny Brewer weekly Monday event at The Brewhouse And Kitchen in Highbury. Unlike our debut here last week which suffered from, let’s say, a scheduling mishap, this week we very much do have an audience and we are welcomed to the stage ecstatically.

We are setting tonight up just like it was suggested last week after we played in the break during which everyone, er, went on a break. So the format is an evening of comedians in two halves with us ending the first half with two songs and beginning the second half with two more.

And we hit this one hard, starting with Make Me Shine then blasting into I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Then we come back with the latest addition to our set, Till Sunset Burns before rounding it all off with Rock’n’Roll Tree. The reception to everything is just incredible. A very fitting atmosphere for gig number 100. 

Day 377

Tuesday July 16

Maja’s up early for a work awayday tomorrow so we have to leave after the first half of tonight’s Ramshackle Collective. With that, Den accommodates us by letting us close the first half. 

Day 380

Friday July 19

After the excitement of our 100th gig and then Tuesday night, tonight we’re off for our third performance of the week. This is the gig Gabriel and Anna got in touch about a few weeks ago and it’s at a brand new venue for us – Anna’s bar Cava-Ri in Norbury. Which is in south London. Whole new territory for us – for those not familiar at all with London, it’s pretty much split by the River Thames on north south lines and it is totally a thing that those living north of the river rarely venture to the south of it, and vice versa. Apart from those from the south going to the city centre, the main commercial, tourist and political parts of which are on and around the northern banks. We have absolutely no idea what to expect. The poster advertises quite a substantial and varied bill with pictures included of all the acts, including us. We haven’t even seen the venue. We thought about going down a week or so ago to say hello, hang out, see what it was. But when we checked, it looked like a bit of a trek and we weren’t up for that so it didn’t happen. I wonder if it had been the same distance away but north, we would have gone? Oh we could have fun with that one. But we’re going there and playing it today so let’s get on it.

It really isn’t that bad a trip at all. From nearby Kings Cross, a fast, one-stop train takes us to Croydon, a bit further south than where we’re going. From there quite a few buses are going our way which means a really short wait for a bus that drops us off almost right outside the place. Oh. We’re on London Road. Cool. This is a small-ish but busy high street and we now see Cava-Ri and it’s a cool, bright, modern looking type place. Exactly what you would expect of a wine bar and restaurant, which is what it is. And it’s beautifully set out with its tiled floors and sharp, clean edges. A truly classy venue and minimalist without the minimal. Subminimal. In front is what looks like a Mediterranean garden scene, complete with artificial grass, and totally independent to any of its surroundings. Matches the weather. It’s warm tonight. So much so that hardly anyone is venturing inside. Meaning everything is going to happen out here in our own little piece of the Med, a la Norbury and san mer.

Anna is delighted to see us as we approach from across the road. She welcomes us with a warm embrace and the wonderful exuberance of the host that she is, and sees to it we get free drinks before we start to set up. The regulars, dotted about the garden area on comfortable plush chairs, also welcome us in and invite us to sit and mingle. A few hellos, then we have to think about the set up. It’s simple once we’re settled. This little garden runs the short length, or rather width, of the glass fronted venue. The outside runs about five or six metres or so out onto the pavement with its own little wall. We’re to play at the far end, essentially looking down the side of the place and playing to what we now think of as the back of the garden. We discover now that we’re going to play a couple of sets of three songs each. We have compere/comedian Gary, who will be joined later by Gabriel. We’re going to start it all off, then another comedian will play, then we’re on again, then the star of the show will be a belly dancer. OK. All fun. Let’s go. Gary gently opens proceedings with a warm, welcomingly familiar old skool comedy halls act injected with his own spin and personality. It’s an almost conversational performance, performer and audience as one. Then he announces us and we’re on.

We decide our opening tonight will be How You Rock’n’Roll followed by I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) and then closing the first set with Talk About The Weather. Everyone in front of us is kinda chilled, and we’re interrupted every now and then by motorbikes or police cars going past. But that all adds to the wonderful summer, outdoor vibe we have going here, playing our songs and rocking out with the wind in our hair. As we get into this short set, more and more people start paying attention. Then, as we get deep into Weather, Gabriel arrives and rises the excitement of the whole place, especially when we hit the shout it out loud mid section. Can you feel it/There’s a storm coming/Can you feel it/Through my hands I’ve got the rhythm it’s running. Yes. He’s totally into it and it looks like he’s starting to take a few people with him. It’s all starting to bounce now. 

When we finish, he comes straight up to us on the stage area and introduces us to the people who have been, I would say, politely curious rather than exuberant about us. That changes when we go back out to the floor and so many people want to say hello and tell us how much they enjoyed what we did. But until all that happens, it feels a little more rather reserved. Summer evening outdoor vibes and so on. Gabriel is absolutely effervescent and changes all that. Up and with us, he asks if he can take the mic and Maja obliges. Into it he declares, ‘That was The Diaries Ladies and gentlemen. They’re going to be famous.’ He then briefly interviews us before going into hypeman mode to call out, ‘Make some noise for The Diaries.’ And they do. We are here now. He continues his impromptu interview, making sure people know who we are, where we’re from and where they can find out more about us online. Talking to us through the mic he says: ‘I really think that they don’t know that you are going to be famous and in years to come they will be like, Oh wow, I saw them at Cava-Ri.’ He then asks if they could get one more out of us, but we then say we will be back a little later. He’s delighted with that answer and the three of us all leave the stage together and happily walk back into the summer’s evening, ice all well and truly broken. We’ve thought it before, but after this little bump it’s fair to say that Gabriel is quite possibly our biggest cheerleader in London and we are actually starting to gather one or two. What a wonderful thing that is to be able to say.

I think we did reasonably well in the mingling stakes before our trip to the stage. But now everyone’s seen us do our thing, and with the confirming storm of Gabriel’s intervention, we really start to get in among it and talk to a few people. Or rather, more people start to come and say hi to us and speak enthusiastically about what they’ve just seen and to ask more about what we’re all about. Brilliant. Anna’s visible enthusiasm about us has also clearly had quite a bit to do with all that. They’ll be seeing more of us up on stage later. In the meantime we all sit back and enjoy the wonderful comedy of Junior Booker, clearly a pro who would be high up on any bill you’d pay to get into. Gabriel’s saying we’ll be famous. I’m going to pay that forward and predict you’ll be hearing the name Junior Booker a bit more sometime in the future, although he already has a fairly healthy profile around London so I can barely claim to be ahead of the game on that one. After we’ve kickstarted everything, he raises it all to another level. After which Gary entertains us all for a little while again. Gabriel also gets up and does his thing. Huge personality fired effervescent comedy which is impossible to ignore. And we do our thing again. Make Me Shine, Rock’n’Roll Tree, and My Game My Rules. This leads to solid calls for an encore so we come back with The Cat. Now it’s time to sit back, by this time really among the people as we feel more and more at home, and wait to see what this belly dancing thing is all about as Chantel prepares for her entrance. And wow. What an entrance it is. I really won’t get all technical or anything about Eastern dress or belly dancing moves or anything like that, but this really is a full on visual assault of music, dance and pure athletic gymnastics. What a show. She’s everywhere. In between every table, over every chair, and making eye contact with everyone in the place, inviting us all in and making everyone feel, in their own little way, that this performance is just for them. It’s a whole experience and a fantastic show to close what has been a great evening. We stick around for a while longer, mingling as the atmosphere of excitement rumbles on. Everyone’s really been on their game tonight but Chantel has elevated things to a higher level still.

Until…

A few weeks later we bump into Gabriel out and about. He tells us that not only are people still talking about us at Cava-Ri, but he’s heard more about us than even the belly dancer, who we thought absolutely owned the place. Wow. We really did leave something out there in south London. And one more thing.

When it’s time to leave, after having had a wonderful time with Anna and Gary and so many of their regulars, I suddenly realise where we are. I mentioned that we came here via Croydon on a fast overground train from Kings Cross. Fine. But hey. We’re just down the road from Brixton. A main road all the way with a ton of buses heading down there. Surely it won’t take long for one of those buses to come along. It doesn’t and in no time at all we’re in Brixton. From there, it’s a short and simple tube ride to Camden and back home. Oh wow. If I’d figured that out a few weeks ago we totally would have come for that introductory look around and hang out. Well, now we know this, we tell ourselves we will be back again for a casual visit. Not at all the trek we initially thought. Even the Croydon way we came was convenient enough. But this. From Camden, a short hop to Brixton then just about any bus you want down the road to the bar. And we can combine it with a visit to the wonderful area of Brixton next time, which Maja hasn’t experienced yet. It really is a fantastic part of London and I’ve been saying for a while we should go. Now we have an extra excuse to do so. Which is the little plan we come up with now. A trip to Brixton, hang out there a little while, then onto Cava-Ri. Yep. We will see you soon. And thankyou very much for tonight. It has been a wonderful adventure and we got to be part of it all.

Oh. We got paid tonight too. Brilliant. Brilliant. Operating as an original music act, that takes things to a slightly different level. It’s also only when we’re on our way home that we reflect on the evening as a whole. Those performers were top drawer professionals. And we were booked on the same bill as them. Yep. A whole new London level. And we totally belonged.

One more thing. Unfortunately there’s hardly no useable video from tonight. For our first performance we had a few motorbikes and siren blasting emergency vehicles go bombing down the road right next to us. Then, with the streets slightly quieter for our second slot, our tripod got just a little tiny bit bumped just as we started. Which was enough to totally mess up the framing, putting just a little of me in the shot and absolutely none of Maja. But we do have Gabriel’s entrance and presentation of us to share with you. It’s not publicly available, but as you’ve been kind enough to stay with us this far, here you go.

The London Diary: Camden, days 418 to 423

Day 418

Monday August 26

Maja has a week off and we’re using it to get ourselves back into the studio to see if we can finally start to do some album damage. The concept of the album has kinda changed a little. Well, not exactly changed as such. Well, it’s like this. Yes it’s been a long time and yes there have been long periods of dormancy to be fair for some of the reasons a little outlined above. But while we have the twelve songs we’ve always intended to be on this debut album, no matter what other songs we’ve written and continue to write, we’re not going to wait until the whole thing is done before putting it out as one piece of work. Well, music and the whole concept of how music is released is changing anyway, and by default we’re fitting right into that. So yeah. What we’re planning now is as soon as a song is done, we’re just putting it out. When the next one is done, out that goes too. And so on until all twelve are out. At which point we can repackage the whole lot as the long (for us at least) awaited debut album HEᒐ. By then we’ll also have other songs ready to go; first of all, album number two is already completely written and album number three is practically all there too. Within that, a load of recording and pre-production has already happened. So yeah, although HEᒐ has been a long time in the coming, once it actually has emerged, we’ll be fully ready to rock’n’roll onto the next stage.

Day 423

Saturday August 31

Oh wow. Oasis has announced they’re getting back together to play a few huge shows. After that, who knows? Maybe by the time you’re reading this, you do. But this is Oasis doing their thing again. One of our touchstone bands. We have so many references to them and their lyrics in so many of our songs. Our first studio release, just out now, is full of them. You may know it if you’ve seen one or two of our videos. Rock’n’Roll Tree. For a start, it begins with the line ‘Some might say…’ Then the chorus, well, one of the choruses, it’s that kind of song, starts with, ‘And it shines,’ and ends with, ‘When you’re standing on the shoulders of what some might say/ In a sink full of fishes.’ And another of our most referenced bands, Oasis adjacent you could say, is also in there with three references in one tiny tiny section. ‘When he loves you all the more than yesterday/ You’ve got to let it be.’ An early version of the song ended with the last yeah yeah yeah echoing the final lines of She Loves You, but Maja deemed that just a bit too much. 

There’s some big furore about who’s going to be in the band. Will it be the original lineup? But really, the whole thing is about Liam and Noel getting back together. For me, it would be nice if Bonehead was there too, but as Noel has said many times, Oasis is the two of them and anyone else in the other slots. Apart from the original five, thirteen other people have been in Oasis over the years, making a total of 18. So if you’re not going to get the stone cold original Definitely Maybe lineup, and you’re not, what does it really matter? Yeah. It’s really all about Liam and Noel. And Bonehead (my opinion). Also for me, I’d love it if Guigs played bass. Would really truly love it if Tony McCarrol got up and played a song or two a la Steven Adler. I really don’t see it. But Bring It On Down would just be perfect. Just for that one song. To have the whole band back together. Again, I really don’t see it happening. But really for drums, it has to be Alan White doesn’t it? Although when I saw them it was Zak Starkey and he was amazing. Ringo Starr’s son. Bringing Oasis and The Beatles totally together. But really, after what follows in here, I think most people couldn’t care less who plays on the bill. After all the fuss and excitement, couldn’t care less anymore that this thing is even happening. We’ll get to that.

For now, this is a huge deal for Maja who’s never seen them. It’s still a big enough deal for me too, even though I have seen them. Twice. But to be fair, both those shows for me were in the later 2000s so no, I never saw them in their mid to late 90s prime. I almost, almost went to Glastonbury in 1995, just as they were approaching their zenith and just a few months before Morning Glory came out. And I still can’t figure out how I missed going to the epochal Knebworth. I was living near Manchester at the time, was all over the bar and club scene, and just about the only things you ever heard anywhere you ever went was Oasis and The Stone Roses. And yes, of course all the other Britpop stuff was bubbling around everywhere too. So how did Knebworth manage to pass us all by? By us all, I mean all my friends at the time too. Not only did I not go, but I don’t remember anyone talking about going to it. At all. Either before or after. I have no idea. But we’re totally on this reunion tour thing. 

The only problem is, half the world (away) and its mother also is. We do the whole thing. Register for tickets, get ourselves on the pre sale ballot, sign up with the ticket sites. That all happened yesterday in anticipation of sale day today. Oh, this is exciting. We were a little disappointed to miss out on the whole pre-sale thing but that’s OK. Up early this morning and let’s log on as soon as the sale begins. Oh, we’re so on this.

The only problem is, half the world and its mother also is.

First thing in the morning we’re in the queue. Guess what.

Yes.

You are number 126,879 in the queue. OK, I made that number up, but yes, deep in the hundred thousands. Oh OK. Let’s see how this goes. There’s what? Fifteen stadium shows across the UK to aim at. Of course we’d prefer Wembley Stadium, what with us being in London and all that, but we can spread it out, right? That’s the plan anyway if our chosen venue sells out by the time we get there.

Right now you might be thinking how long it takes to get to the front of a queue when you’re being well over a hundred thousand people. 

We don’t sit and stare at the screen and watch it happen, although yes we do keep up with it. More, we just get on with our Saturday hanging around the apartment, watching a movie and stuff, but making sure not to go out. We do need to at least stay on top of this thing. 

Now, to get to the answer of how long this takes. Around eight hours. Eight hours and we’re into single figure thousands. Which, bizarrely, feels like a really small queue. For a further hour we watch with some fascination as it winds through the thousands and then unbelievably into triple figures. Somewhere in the mid thousands we stop the movie ane watch, transfixed as it goes down, down, down. Triple figures, then double, then. Then. Then. Single. Actually single. Eight people in front of us. We’re at the computer and waiting. All required details at our fingertips. Then, incredibly, almost impossibly, it ticks down to just one. We’re up next. Yes, this is adrenilly. Then it happens. We’re in and we can select tickets. We’re actually in. Then it happens. What? What? What? Is our disbelieving reaction to what we see. The advertised price of around £150 per ticket has more than doubled and yeah, that 150 was damn high to begin with. But this is Oasis, Maja’s never seen them and they are kinda our band. A little more on that later. But for now, we’re absolutely stunned and Maja is heartbroken. No. Just no. We are not paying that. It was a stretch to start with. But this? Due to high demand they say. High demand? High demand? The biggest band of their era, the defining band of their era, has got back together after 15 years of, it will never happen, and demand took people so much by surprise that the prices had to go up? No. Just. NO. An absolute disgrace. An absolute farce. Never have I seen so much goodwill and overall feelgood vibes evaporate into badwill and recrimination so quickly. Everyone involved should hang their heads in shame so that they can look down and see that little bit clearer how much money has pooled all around their ankles. Oh damn this is dirty. I’m very sorry to say, but Oasis feels just a little bit more sullied now. The event everyone was so jubilant and excited about yesterday has become a bitter, disillusioning experience. Literally over night, something so good, so joyous, so celebrated, has become something dirty, disdained and, yes, disowned. Well done everybody.

RIght. If I’m not going to tell this now I probably never am. What a perfect opportunity to talk about the time when I was working in a bar and I looked after Liam Gallagher and his table of, I’m remembering, around 10 people. They were on our biggest table on a Sunday so there must have been a lot of them. I think enough time has passed now to talk about this encounter. Damn that was a busy day. One of the busiest and most stressful I’ve ever worked through in a bar. Sunday Fathers Day, 2019. We had an inkling it would be a big one. So much so that the day before the assistant manager Duran, who I had a great relationship with, asked if I’d be OK to be called to come in early if it all really kicked off. I said yes I would, and said if I saw I had a call from the bar I would assume it was because everything was on fire and so wouldn’t even answer as that would waste time. Instead, I did what I said I would, which was to be ready to leave, just reject the call as soon as I saw it was coming in, and head straight to the bar, which was about a 10 minute walk from my house. I walked into absolute chaos and a massively grateful and relieved Duran who said she’d totally forgotten my suggested tactic of the night before and thought I’d just rejected the call and not thought to come in. That, and to see Liam Gallagher sitting at our biggest table. As soon as I entered, I sprang straight into action, throwing myself anywhere and everywhere to help get things under control. That was impossible. But at least I helped hold our heads above water. Oh, who am I kidding? The place was a mess. The one time it actually did fall apart like you feel it can sometimes, but somehow it just about manages to stay together. Today was the day it actually did fall apart. So much so that Duran even had to leave the whole thing to me being in charge as she felt she had to help out in the kitchen. In all my time in bars and restaurants, you’re talking fewer than five times that I ever saw any floor personnel have to do that. And only once did I ever see any kitchen staff come out and work the floor. That was when I managed to slice right through my hand while cutting a loaf of bread and so couldn’t possibly deliver plates of food to anyone. The blood pouring out of my hand was almost unstoppable.

Digressed.

The point being, in all this, Liam’s table had to wait possibly the longest I’ve ever seen a table have to wait for desserts. So long in fact that the next party for their table arrived for their booking and I had to be the one to go and ask/tell The Liam actual Gallagher could he and all his family and friends please leave this table and go and sit outside in the garden. Yep. I had to ask/tell Liam Gallagher to leave my pub. But in the best possible way and he was so so understanding and brilliant about it. And you know, through all this thing, when his table had so many things go wrong because it was just the worst day ever in there, and they would have had every right to feel aggrieved and to have voiced that quite strongly, I didn’t hear one complaint. Not to any of us, and neither did I even hear a word of complaint or disquiet pass between them. I’m sure words were said and eye rolls made, and all totally justifiably. But I didn’t see or hear a hint of irritation, blame or castigation. Then, out in the beer garden – I could almost have got on my knees in thanks to the weather that day – I heard him talking about how much he really liked the pub. And, once the people at the newly vacated table had settled, he went out of his way to go inside and talk to and spend a little time with them. And during all the chaos of the day, he also took interest in talking to me, asking where I was from and telling me two or three times that he really loved and appreciated the job I was doing. If anything, I was the rude one. Answering questions as briefly as I could and really trying to get away as quicky as I could. Everywhere I looked, it felt that day, something somewhere was on fire and I had to go and put it out. Sorry Liam. I just didn’t have the time. What I was quite happy about myself with was that, like every other famous person who ever came in – apart from Damian Lewis one time, but that really is another story – not once during that whole day did I ever let on that I even vaguely recognised him and I really like to think he clocked that and appreciated that. Because of course he knew that I knew who he was. He even knew that I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew that I knew who he was. You know? Basically, the guy and all his company was an absolute pleasure to deal with as customers. He played no large cards at all at all. I don’t think I ever even heard his voice above the general chatter of the bar. He just sat, chilled and enjoyed like everyone else in there that day. And, apart from a massively star struck colleague who just had to get a photo with him before he left, I don’t think I saw one person approach him or bother him.

The London Diary: Camden, day 425

Day 425

Monday September 2

We’ve never tried to play at The Dublin Castle and it’s time to get onto that. This is one of Camden’s most iconic music venues. It’s where Madness made their name and no Camden documentary is complete without it. It was even chosen as one of the main featured venues for the recent Amy Winehouse movie Back To Black. Which, incidentally, took in much of the immediate area around where we live. Oh yeah. We recently discovered that just around the time she started to become famous she lived almost directly behind our own street. Sometime last year we got leaflets through our letterbox giving us a heads up on filming happening pretty much outside our back window on certain days. We didn’t know it at the time, but that was for Back To Black.

Ok. Back to the Dublin Castle. Monday’s their open mic night. It advertises as sign up being at 7pm. Cool. It’s about a 20 minute walk from us and once Maja’s finished work for the day we get out the door as soon as we can and we’re there by about five past seven. We’re met by a despondent guitar carrying guy on his way out who says, ‘Guys, The list was full hours ago.’ He suggests we still have a look with the throwaway line of, ‘Well, you never know do you?’ We walk through the bar and into the venue. It’s already well underway and the place is packed with expectant musicians. It’s a zoo. There’s no point trying to find an organiser in all this or trying to get ourselves on any kind of list. We immediately decide to get back out on the street and make a new plan. As we’re walking out we get called by a table that we’re passing. Oh, there’s a guy we recognise. Fergal. We met and hung out with him one time at The Good Mixer. And he brought us to a gig here. He’s recognised us as, and a couple of his friends say they’ve seen us out and about as well. There are four of them seated around a table, consolation pints in front of them. They now tell us they’re a band who often play at the open mic here. But even they’ve not managed to get on tonight. They say they got here an hour ago and the list was already full. People had started arriving by 4pm apparently. We’re starting to get the picture now. The world and its mother comes to Camden to play The Dublin Castle. We thank them for the hello and head off to leave, but they quickly call us back to say there’s an open mic at the King William IV in Hampstead tonight and that they’re thinking of heading down there themselves. Cool. Thanks a lot for the heads up. We’ll check it out. And maybe see you there.

As we make our way down the hill of Parkway to Camden tube station we keep seeing people with guitars on backs heading towards us. They can only be going to The Dublin Castle. We get to the station and a few people are coming out of it, also with guitars and also heading straight in the direction of The Castle. It doesn’t necessarily mean they are going there, but let’s make that educated guess. It is still not long after 7pm afterall. I’ve really never seen anything like this. I hope they didn’t have to come far, but I have a feeling that at least one or two will have done. Right. Onto Hampstead.

I know the William IV. Not massively well, but I tried hustling it a few times back in the Insider days. I must have got some encouraging noises because I remember going back a few times. But I never quite managed to get us over the line. That was the story of a lot of venues as I hammered on all those doors all that time ago. Well, we’re going to play here tonight.

But we’re a little confused when we first enter. It all looks like a normal local English pub lounge. Semi large, but with no sign of an open mic. All lovely and cosy and the staff are all busy and bustly. But nothing about it at all feels open mikey. We even wonder if we have the right place. Apparently we do as we’re told it’s going to be over there in the corner once the host Simon arrives. So he’s not here yet. Great. We’re well in time. Quite different from what we’ve just left.

Now we know we’re in the right place, we notice a smattering of people around with guitars and we get ourselves a drink, find a table and sit back. When Simon does arrive, he is very welcoming, as well as being quite impressed when he asks where else we’ve played and we run off a list of European cities. He actually meant where else in London, but OK. That will definitely do as an answer. We’re kind of sat in the middle of the room now in possible the most well known pub in Hampstead, itself one of the most expensive areas in the UK. We’re suddenly struck by how genteel our surroundings feel. We start to talk to Simon about the general vibe here and he talks about it being acoustic, gentle, not too loud. With this, we begin to feel we might just be in the wrong place. We certainly have the repertoire to do a gentle set and fit in with the environment, but that’s not really our thing. We want to blast it out and just go for it. All of a sudden we feel this might not be the kind of place for that and we start to talk about maybe not staying. I’m certainly decided. No. This isn’t for us. I think it’s only because we have a considerable amount of our first pint left that we decide to stick around for now. Although it should also be said that Maja’s the one making the stronger case for sticking around and seeing how it goes. I’ve all but got my jacket back on. OK. Let’s have a quick chat with Simon and tell him we really are quite lively and punky. Oh, he says, but you just use an acoustic guitar? Yes. Oh, that’s fine. He explains they just don’t want big distorted electric guitars going on. Acoustic, no matter how vigorously played, should be fine. There is that word should, but we do at least feel assured enough to relax again, stick around and just do our own thing and see how it goes.

A few minutes later, Simon kicks it all off with some beautifully realised cover songs, perfectly setting the mood, pretty much as we might have expected. A few more acts, some a little upbeat but still on the gentler side if our end of the scale is added to the mix.

Then it’s our turn. We get up and Simon introduces us enthusiastically, but it still feels like we’re invading a bit on everyone’s quiet countryside vibish evening. But no matter. We’ve been in situations like this before. As in all of those, let’s just go for it. And if, in pure Back To The Future style, we’re told, ‘I’m sorry, you’re just too damn loud,’ then fine. We smash straight into Rock’n’Roll Tree. We follow this with I Like You (Better When You’re Naked, and finish off with Till Sunset Burns. 

Well, straight away, Simon is like, oh my. Although he does come and turn us down just a smidge. But it’s clear he very much approves as he dances his way back to his original position. Out on the floor the rest of the bar responds. The bar staff suddenly have springs in their steps and at the back of the bar, leading into another bar, a guy suddenly bursts in and dances his way to the centre of it all, continuing to dance as we by now confidently rock it all out. This isn’t just accepted. This is triumphant. Ladies and gentlemen, The Diaries are in town. Where the hell did they come from? This genteel pub we were so reticent at upsetting has suddenly been transformed into a rock concert. Maja is joyfully at the centre as she takes advantage of the cordless mic and starts to work the room, moving out into the centre of it and beyond. We’ve totally taken over this place by now. This is our room. As so often, this doesn’t feel like an open mic. It feels like a show. Our NOW Hustles are generally three to five song shows anyway, so this really isn’t that much different.  

Into Sunset Burns and we can see that more and more people have come through from the back room. We finish to a big cheer, but then Maja remembers the thing we always have to say. Everyone, these are all our own songs. With that the place just erupts. And we’re done. Free to go back out into the place, but with everyone now knowing exactly who we are and what we do. To handshakes and backslaps, we go back to our seats, the guitar gets dropped off and we split up into different directions and go round handing out cards and generally just meeting people. As I said, there’s a back room too, so you can go out the door at that far corner, all the way round the smaller back area, then back down the side of the bar to return to the corner stage area. I do the back bit, and when I return, I see Maja is already seated and being feted by a small and enthusiastic group. I join them and get introduced around. Among them is the guy who came in dancing, a very high sign of approval in here apparently, and Jimmy, the owner himself. Oh wow. Maja’s been pulled straight into the centre circle. Again, this is Hampstead and this is the King William IV. It’s been here since the 1700s and its walls are covered with photographs of legends of entertainment who’ve drank here down the years. And no doubt many legends of entertainment still do. London’s the UK’s, the world’s great and good of entertainment, all the movers and shakers come to Hampstead and all of them will know and most likely have been to this bar. Where we have just come and totally made ourselves known and our presence felt. The welcome we feel here now is immense and yes we will be back. We stay for quite a while longer, enjoying the continuing open mic and generally mingling, getting to know the bar staff, the whole thing. What an evening this has turned out to be, and what a let down it was that kicked the whole thing off. You may have been wondering about our friends back at The Dublin Castle. Well, they clearly made other plans and didn’t make it down tonight, but I’m sure we will be seeing them around Camden again. They will be very gratefully thanked.

The London Diary: Camden, days 426 to 458

Day 426

Tuesday September 3

It’s the second birthday of the Ramshackle Collective so of course we’re there. Lots of acts on tonight, so just the two songs each. Just a great night and lovely to be playing in here again and see a good few familiar faces after a few weeks away so to speak.

Day 452

Sunday September 29

Yeah, not much to write about in September. It can be like that sometimes. A bunch of cool nights out and stuff around Camden and wider London, but nothing too Diary related.

But that all changes first thing this morning when Maja suddenly starts talking about possibly going to see Frank Turner somewhere in Europe. I introduced her to his music a month or so ago and she’s very quickly become quite a fan. It seems she’s woken this morning with the idea to go and see him somewhere and turn it into a Now Hustle opportunity. So, where in Europe to go? We toy with the idea of Antwerp for a while. That would be cool. We felt we really connected with that place when we Now Hustled our way around it on our second European tour. Then we see he’s playing in Madrid where I lived for six years before heading off to the Costa Blanca to start Mark’s Diaries, and then was off to London. This is a whole million words before The Diaries began. I consider those million words to constitute prologue and often said I had that feeling even while writing them. 

We have a think. I have a think. Do I want a holiday return to Madrid? I decide I do, and with that it’s done. We going for pretty much a whole week in mid November. While we’re looking at Frank’s itinerary we see he’s doing a gig in Japan and doesn’t have support organised for that yet. Using Maja’s Japanese experience as a possible in, we decide to email him on his publicly available email to see if we could jump on that and play with him. A few days later he actually replies. He tells us that unfortunately the slots already gone, but he adds, ‘Always take your shot.’ Brilliant. Thanks Frank. We will. We reply with great thanks for getting back to us. Onto Madrid.

Day 456

Thursday October 3

Oh wow. OK. Finally finally we have a first release for the debut Album. Rock’n’Roll Tree. For those who have been with us for a long time and have impressive memories, you may be aware we put out I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) way back when while we were even still living in Ireland. But shortly after putting it out we decided it wasn’t quite right, so quietly took it back down off the platforms. Not too long after that it was all systems go to make the return to London, so recording totally stopped. We’ve been on it sporadically in London but also a lot of life getting in the way, not to mention the move from Shoreditch to Camden. But we’ve kept plugging at it, learning and improving and studying. Now we’ve reached our first self mix and master. We’re sure there are plenty of other studio lessons to learn and we may well return to revisit this. But we’re on our way now. Every song of the debut album HEᒐ is at the final stages of recording. We also have what could well be the second album completely written, with some of those songs mostly recorded, and a third album is almost written too. So once we’re done with HEᒐ we can just keep right on recording and releasing. 

With HEᒐ taking much more time than we ever envisaged at the beginning, we decided that we would just put out each song as it came up. Once they’re all out we’ll repackage them as the debut album then continue immediately onto the next one. It’s also possible that a lot of recording of the next one could well happen in tandem so that may well progress parallel to the final stages of HEᒐ. As I said, a lot of it is already recorded.

With Rock’n’Roll Tree out now, the next two songs to come out will be How You Rock’n’Roll then Insanity, probably in that order or maybe just simultaneously as they both race/stumble to their own respective finish lines at around the same time. As I write this in the first week of November, we think Insanity is done bar final tweaks, while How You Rock’n’Roll is being just that little stubborn regarding final mix and mastering, but we’re on it. In any case, the complete performances are now in for both.

Following these two will be I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) round two of this iteration essentially. We’ve recorded this one more times than we care to remember at various stages on our studio journey so we really wanted to wait a little on what we hope is this final push and work on a few different songs before jumping into this one (again). But yeah. Track number four seems about right. After that it’s currently up for grabs as to what order we continue in. Fire is in decent shape, but I think we’d prefer another upbeat one to come out after Naked. But the next two are there or thereabouts and Naked will hopefully not be too far behind. Which means that after so long, we’re in sight of having a third of the HEᒐ out and about. 

We’re not at all expecting any kinds of listener numbers on these in any kinds of initial stages. It’s more that they exist, that they’re there. We’ve been talking about picking up on the Now Hustle in London, something we’ve barely done here. We think that’s the best strategy for playing regularly and maybe building up some interest in our studio recordings as people see us play live then check out the recorded stuff. Then it’s a case of seeing if they can build any kind of momentum from there.

Whatever happens or doesn’t happen on any of the above, with the first song Rock’n’Roll Tree now up and ready, and with the promise of more imminently, we’ve given ourselves the possibility of a chance to start to make that momentum happen.

You can hear Rock’n’Roll Tree here: https://open.spotify.com/album/6Lyf94fOEYfhbkI9VKmZR4

Day 458

Saturday October 5

Our first track is out, the others are now soon going to be on their way. It’s time to get some real photos done. Davide Mazzantini, someone I know from the London blues scene, recently released a video and photoshoot to go with it. He’s one of the main guys when it comes to running blues jams and does his own musical bits and pieces too. We liked how his latest releases looked so last week I got in touch with him to ask who he worked with. The answer comes back, along with an email address. Charo Galura. We got in touch with her, discussed budgets, times and durations, and arranged a three hour photoshoot for today.

Once contact was made, the discussion and organisation was Maja’s domain as the two girls spoke about ideas, style, the kind of music we played and how we wanted to come across. And what locations we might use.

Me and Maja went to the cinema last night and when we came out, rather than walk straight back home, we wandered around Camden thinking of what places we might prefer. On the canal, down the main music strip, around the markets. So many iconic backdrops. And yes, we totally want to do it in Camden. Everywhere we saw seems cool until we realise, oh, it’s going to be Saturday afternoon. None of it will look like this. It will all be totally rammed. We have a think, then start to consider places right round where we live. It’s still completely recognisable Camden, but maybe it will be quieter. For a reminder, we go take a walk right around home, and yes. These places really could work. We have a plan.

By the time Charo comes round to ours early afternoon today, we have a plan. The first place is going to be pretty much private. Super close to us a new store has opened. Warren Evans, a family run workshop and showroom specialising in beds. It’s all set in historic railway arches with a wonderfully cobbled front area. We’ve met and spoken to Warren before and he’s been really interested in what we’re up to. So we asked his permission to do a shoot in his place and he was very happy to let us work away there. 

So this is where we start. We’re in good company for our first photoshoot. It was right at the gates of this place that Amy Winehouse had the very first photo of her taken that made its way into a newspaper, The Camden New Journal. At the back of the carpark is a raised walkway area that is so out of the way that you can’t imagine anyone using it. Well, we do now. We turn it into a stage and perform for our first photos as we get things kicked off. This proves to have been a really good idea as it means we can get used to the camera and performing in this way without being self conscious about passers by. This new instant experience will come in very handy later on as we will find out. 

We start with Maja posing solo, holding up the mic as if playing live. Oh, and yes. We have brought a microphone and a guitar with us. As you might imagine, it looks a bit stiff and stilted. Like when someone says to you, act normal. After a few shots, Maja suggests we forget posing it and just try actually playing live for real and having Charo just shoot around us like a gig photographer would. Sure. So that’s what we do. The place we’re standing at almost looks like a real stage so it’s perfect. And, showroom over there aside, it’s essentially private. So even better. Now we’ve properly started and first location down.

I won’t go through the whole shoot, but it’s a really fun afternoon with some great ideas from Charo with whom we make a great team of three. How to pose, where to go. Sometimes even just me and Maja interacting normally while Charo shoots as we try to forget there is even a camera there. It all works so well.

Right round the corner from Warren Evans’ showrooms is Jeffrey’s Place, the street Amy Winehouse was living on just as she became famous. It actually features and is mentioned by the Amy Winehouse character in her most recent biopic which was partly filmed right behind where we live. We have to go and get some pictures done there, so we do, and make sure to have at least one also featuring the actual street sign. We use a few more locations in and around here, then we head off to what could be described as Camden’s second high street. I have no idea what you’d call it. It’s more a collection of mini high streets all shooting off of one crossroads which itself is crossed by one of Camden Town’s famous Camden Town railway bridges. It’s here that we get one of the best shots of the day and, quite frankly, one of my favourite ever band or musician photographs. And I mean, ever.

We decide to just go for it. Right here, in the centre of one of Camden’s most populated thoroughfares and right in front of the overground station, we launch fully into Rock’n’Roll Tree as Charo moves and shoots around us. If it’s not quite a traffic stop moment, it’s certainly a pavement stopping moment. It is definitely certainly a movie moment. Hopefully we leave a little of ourselves there in the memories of those who just happened to be walking past and through at the time.

Oh, and yeah. Here and at a few other places where we do the whole let’s just play a song and be photographed thing, we notice passers by stopping and filming. So out there, we have no idea where, other people have their own videos of us doing our thing around Camden Town.

The London Diary: Camden, days 460 to 494

Day 460

Monday October 7

I’m going to fast forward just a little and say that the results Charo produces from the photoshoot are absolutely stunning. Among them, in my opinion, is one of the best music photographs I have ever seen. This is the picture of us under the Camden Town bridge performing Rock’n’Roll Tree. We’re right among the Camden public going about their business as a classic double decker London red bus passes by providing an extra even more epic and perfect backdrop. It’s the only bus that passed us while we were in that location. And Charo captured it. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Moving to today proper, and it’s a return to the King William IV in Hampstead. We get a massive boost as soon as we arrive and are met by Jimmy, the boss, who is just on his way out. ‘Ah, The Diaries,’ he exclaims as he sees us. ‘Fantastic. You’re back.’ He says he now has to make sure he returns soon enough so that he can get to see us again. Unfortunately, he doesn’t return, but this really is a great welcome to receive.

It’s a similar story inside as we meet Simon again and a few of the guys from last time, including Andy who really kicked off things back then when he entered the bar while we were on and launched into dancing. And yeah. It really is another great night and we do our thing with How You Rock’n’Roll, Sand Bang and Talk About The Weather.

Day 467

Monday October 14

We’ve been on it all weekend in the studio and also today. With that, we finish final mixes and masters of How You Rock’n’Roll and Insanity. How You Rock’n’Roll is similar in arrangement to Rock’n’Roll Tree. A big smash set song with loud vocals and full on drums. With this, a few studio discoveries takes the mixing and mastering to a new level, meaning a return to Rock’n’Roll Tree could well be on the cards and probably should be. We really have been working on these two new recordings in a kind of parallel fashion but Insanity is very different to the others. This is possibly our most gentle song and quite a while ago we decided not to have drums on this one at all, or even any percussion. Instead it’s got a kind of cool, vibey leadish bass part running through it complementing the picked guitar and vocal treatment. Maja’s off to Sweden again tomorrow and we don’t quite get these mixes or masters fully finished as we want. You also want to sit on them for a day or two maybe to see if you really are happy with what you’ve done. But we’ve just pushed it to the wall a little bit too much timewise. They feel done. They might be done. But also maybe not quite. There are things in both of them we really have to look at together so final decision and release will just have to wait another couple of weeks until Maja is back and we can have another look. But still, we’re fully confident we have the actual performances in the can and that in itself feels amazing. That’s three tracks down now and studio ability really pushing on and on. The other songs are now feeling very reachable indeed. After these three, I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) will be next, a song we’ve already recorded a bunch of times without quite getting it over the line. After that its into kinda new territory as we start to get to finishing all the others, putting them out one by one until all twelve are done and we can repackage them all as the debut album.  

Day 475

Wednesday October 23

I’m going through a few videos that we haven’t got round to putting up on Youtube. Among them is a performance from one of Antonio’s Monday nights at the Brewhouse in Islington in August. We had a particularly enthusiastic front row I remember so it’s fun to watch this video again and get to relive the performance. But watching it now, I get even more. Just a reminder. For those shows we were playing two sets of two songs in each half of a comedy night. The first set featured I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) and Rock’n’Roll Tree while the second was Six Sense Lover followed by How You Rock’n’Roll. During Six Sense Lover, just around the one minute mark on the video if you want to find it, one member of the front row turns to another and says something like, ‘Did they really write all these songs?’ She’s met with an affirmative and after that just gets into the performance more and more. It’s a really great moment to have caught.

Day 481

Tuesday October 29

It’s Ten To One’s Ramshackle’s second birthday tonight so I decide to take myself down there to kind of represent The Diaries with Maja still away until tomorrow. It’s a really great night with a few people understandably asking me if it’s weird to be there and not be playing. I would have been asking the same question, and indeed I thought I would have a bit of the itch. But no. Not at all. I’m just really happy to sit back, watch the show and mingle and hang out with different people during the night. While all this is happening, Ant tells me they’re also celebrating the fourth birthday of Ten To One on Saturday. He says they’re having a bit of an open stage and we should come along armed with a guitar. Fantastic. So that’s a gig already for Maja to come back to.

Right. If you’re really paying attention I wonder if you noticed something just a little strange or notable there. If you didn’t, let me just nudge you a little. We’re in 2024. It’s Ten To One’s fourth birthday. Have you connected the dots yet? Yep. Ant opened his place in 2020, right in pandemic world through all the various lockdowns, tiers, not lockdowns, lockdowns again, bar restrictions – everyone should be seated, do you have to order a meal or don’t you? What does a meal even mean? Whatever the restrictions were at the time it really doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that on Ant’s menus is stamped the line, Ten To One, est. 2020. And that, in my opinion is absolutely epic. Who in any kind of mind opens a bar in 2020? And has it survive and continuing to be a successful business in 2024? Ladies and gentlemen, we know at least one answer to that question. 

Day 484

Friday November 1

Maja was back late Wednesday night and last night we took ourselves out to The Dublin Castle for a few pints. Tonight we hit a bar or two and then go to Camden Market to visit 

London’s Coyote Ugly. This bar/nightclub venue has become something of a guilty pleasure of ours lately. There are two of them in London with the other being just off Piccadilly Circus. We have another fun night in here and then leave to start the short walk home. As we’re making our way through the quiet Camden Market, other people are coming in to visit any one of the number of bars in here. From one of those groups of people, someone suddenly points at us from around ten metres away and calls out, ‘You guys are legends.’ Wow. Just where did that come from? But OK. Are we starting to get recognised by strangers in London now?

Day 485

Saturday November 2

A fantastic Saturday night at the Ten To One bar in Tottenham with a whole bunch of people playing, essentially a few of Ant’s favourites and maybe, just maybe, we can count ourselves among them. 

Let’s just cover our thing. We get to the stage around 10pm and decide we’re just going to smash out three or four of our big numbers. We hit three, get a good encore shout and go again for the fourth. Make Me Shine, Rock’n’Roll Tree, I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), Talk About The Weather. Unfortunately we don’t get a video of tonight but something hit really big. Ten To One doesn’t have a backstage area as such, but there is a restaurant area at the end of the bar looking down from the stage. When it’s not being a restaurant it kind of serves as a prep area. Tuning guitars, that kind of thing. And a little refuge place to head to after playing to decompress or whatever. Some people even use it at times as a place to emerge from and play themselves down the bar, through the audience to the stage. We’ve done that ourselves a couple of times. It can be very effective.

This has been an absolute powerhouse of a four song performance and it really does take it out of us. Seriously. We go to the gym and do full on cardiovascular work to be able to do this stuff but we can still often find ourselves out of breath after even a short show like this one as though we’ve just sprinted up a whole bunch of stairs. It’s in this state that we retreat through a backpatting audience to the restaurant area and both crumple into chairs. As we’re catching our breath in what feels like a private de facto backstage area, or maybe it should be thought of as more a de facto green room, the father of one of the previous acts bursts in. His effervescent is practically luminous. ‘Oh guys,’ he explodes. ‘You guys are invincible.’ It’s possibly one of the most enthusiastic personal responses we’ve ever experienced. And we look at each other and laugh as we tell him, ‘We’ve literally just finished writing a song called Invincible.’ Yep. Hopefully we’ll be sharing a live performance of that soon.

After we’ve chatted to him for a while, caught our breath and returned to the bar, we walk into something of a hero’s reception. Tonight, it seems, has been one of the special ones. Ant, Ten To One, happy birthday.

Day 487

Monday November 4

Today feels quite momentous as we get back in the studio and put the finishing touches to How You Rock’n’Roll and Insanity. They are now done and out. Added to Rock’n’Roll Tree, we feel we’re really, and finally on our way with the debut album which has proved a far more difficult birth than we were even close to beginning to imagine when we began…ago. So yeah, it’s taken forever to get here, but we feel now that we’ve really got over the biggest hurdles the studio had to throw at us and we can start getting things out at something of a semi decent rate. For us, it feels just huge that we’ve got three actually finished and out in the world now.

Day 494

Monday November 11

If we thought it was momentous to finally have the debut album underway proper, we top that today as we finish the actual first book we’re going to put out as The Diaries. Once this is printed, it will also become our first significant piece of merch. Or maybe our first real piece. I’m not sure we can count beermats and stickers.

First actual announcement of this here. It will be presented as the first in The Diaries series and will be called called Music, Love and Impossibilities. It follows the first three months of our story, so right up until we’re making the move to Ireland. That may sound like spoiler, but if you’re reading this particular paragraph you probably know at least a few of the broad brush stroke details.

The book looks a lot more like The Diaries Diaries should look like than what they are right now, with both of us very much involved in the writing with an almost back and forth dialogue style. Right now it’s mostly me – Mark – because, well, Maja’s working on a computer every day in her actual job which is keeping all this going so the last thing she wants to do is to finish that each day and get back on a computer to write bits and pieces in here. And that’s besides all the other stuff that’s going on such as working on new songs, recording, getting out and performing and all the rest of it. And even then you have to factor in other computer work which makes up a big part of the recording process, especially when it comes to mixing and mastering which we’re both a part of but Maja, being a real engineer, is better at that kind of thing, certainly with learning and really getting into the tech and mechanics of it all. So yeah. Sorry if you’re mostly stuck with me in here. But to really get the full experience, go find the book when it comes out. By definition of all of the above, it contains a lot more than is in these online pages because Maja’s extra contributions, and other additions here and there, are just going to be in the book format.

As it happened at the time, we were both very much writing it at the beginning, including while we were in Ireland. But we did get quite behind and when the European tours and all the Ireland gigging and stuff started happening, we abandoned trying to catch up and just got on with writing about what we were doing there and then, which meant a very big time jump and a massive hole in the story. But even that was a stretch and we found ourselves in all kinds of catch up positions as we struggled – mostly failed – to keep up with ourselves. As a result, a lot of the early days was just left unwritten. I’m talking here about so much that went down in the first couple of months we knew each other. Just hadn’t been written, although there were notes from the time. At its peak we had around a year of unwritten Diary. Probably quite a bit more than a year. Going back a little further, even the first writings of The Diaries didn’t happen until a few months after this all began because we we both had to complete our own respective diaries until we could start with this. That process alone went deep into those first few months as we tried to fit in writing sessions alongside everything else that was happening at the time. Then of course we had the Ireland move itself. Then two weeks later the Sweden move for three months then back to Ireland, then all the songwriting and rehearsing as we began the process of thinking about and creating what we were even going to be musically and conceptually. Then our first gig. Then Maja immediately returning to Sweden again – the very next day. Then three and a half weeks later we met in Berlin to begin the first European tour which itself was disrupted by the resurgence of Covid then the war in Ukraine; we were just recovering from our own Covid experience in what was supposed to have been a short Sweden pitstop and making plans to head into eastern Europe to resume the tour when that began.

So, with our story beginning in February 2021, it wasn’t until early June of that year, and in Sweden, that the first writings of The Diaries began. 

Now we return to that huge 18 month gap in the record which opened up as we were totally unable to keep up with ourselves. That didn’t begin to get rectified until late 2021 when Maja began that first round of job hunting which ultimately led us to London where we are now. But we could have ended up in a few other places. As we said at the time, there was also the very real possibility that she could have found a completely remote role and we probably would have just stayed where we were in Ireland with the option of moving somewhere else in the future just if we fancied it. This was a period when everything just stopped. Maja went into full time job hunting mode with so many rounds of interviews across so many different applications, and I went into full on writing mode, finally getting into the hugely daunting catch up. This is when I wrote most of my contribution to what is now the book that we just finished today. But of course, Maja had to write hers as well. And given all I’ve detailed above, exactly when was that supposed to happen? And this is without considering the whole process of the move to London, then Maja starting the job itself once we got here. And as we’ve said regarding the whole project during a few periods here, life has got in the way a bit. So of course that’s impacted on progress here too.

Now we’re back to today, and in the past few months Maja has been getting back to her own catch up of those first few months. At the same time we researched just how to put it all together as a book we could publish ourselves. We really should do a shoutout here to author and Youtuber M.K. Williams. We don’t know her at all, but Maja found her channel and it’s been massively useful for wisdom, advice and guidance. Through M.K. Williams we learned how to go about the process of actually physically putting a book together, discovering the software, where to download it from, and how to use it. This became a big project in itself and I got busy with the typesetting and what all the pages were going to be – you know, all the stuff at the front of a book – and Maja got on with her final pieces of writing as she neared her own finish line. The result is that today she completed the job – let’s take a breath here to consider the achievement and the import of the moment when an author writes that very last full stop – and I then pulled those final pages into the last typeset pages to complete the creation of The Diaries’ first book.

Oh yeah. I should explain something here that I didn’t know before beginning this process, so maybe you didn’t know either. I was hoping that you got your book template and just copied and pasted your entire book into it from its source and it all fell neatly into pages. Nope. You have to create a text box for each individual page. Then go to a separate editing page, paste into that what you think will fit into the given page, hit your green tick thing, which takes you to the page at which time you see if you’ve put in too much or not enough. Return to the edit page to add or delete as necessary. Repeat the process until you’ve got the perfect amount of words on the current page, at which point there’s another little process to make sure it all looks tidy. Congratulations. You’ve now completed one page of what will be around four hundred of the things. Go to the next page, start again. 

The final printing of it is still a little way off as we have to put the cover together, but conceptually we know what the front, back and spine are going to look like and most of the heavy lifting has been done there too with design and so on. And then there’s getting the budget together to actually order that first print run. 

Oh, and it’s Monday now, we’re out gigging tonight – more on that in a minute – and we’re off to Madrid for a week on Wednesday so tomorrow will be organising ourselves for that. I’m writing this on Friday November 29, just over a week after we got back from Madrid, and we’re off to Tenerife on Sunday for a week for an actual holiday. Yes, the Madrid thing was also a holiday, but we also took the guitar and amp and went out and played everyday apart from the last day, Monday, for which we were offered a gig but had the business of going to see Frank Turner to attend to, which was the whole purpose of the trip in the first place. We won’t be taking any guitar to Tenerife but we will be taking computers, so some writing and posting may happen, but not any last detail project stuff on the book.

As for what we expect when the book is finished and in our hands, our only initial expectation is that we will now have something to sell at gigs and something that will hopefully get our story out into the world a little bit more. We will be selling them mostly at gigs in London afterall. A whole bunch will be strategically given away but we don’t expect to be chasing a publishing deal. Not that we don’t want one, but we won’t be formally submitting; we’ve already been through that process, got absolutely no joy and every publisher and agent – as is completely correct and their right – requests submissions to be made according to their own preferences. Each one can take a lot of time. So no, we won’t be doing that. But what we will be doing is the Now Hustle and generally gigging and having them available. This being London, we are of course surrounded by agents, publishers and all kinds of other music and literary industry people, not to mention any other category of media person and you just never know when you’re going to encounter one, or indeed meet or play to – or sell a book to – someone who knows one. So yeah. We think we’re going to just have them ourselves to sell which will be its own form of income and advertising, with the possible potential bonus of what having a book ready to go could provide. We’re not even seeing this as self publishing. It’s self printing, although it will have an ISBN number for whatever may happen going forwards, and we’ve just discovered that’s a whole extra issue and considerable cost in itself. But essentially, right now this is no different to designing and ordering business cards that you then give away, although of course the bonus with a book is that you can actually ask for some money before you give it to someone. But then hey, if we happen to meet a publisher or agent who’s loved our show and subsequently loves hearing our story – which happens all the time with audience members in general by the way – we have a business card plus plus plus to simply give to them.

When we first started thinking about the possibility of finding a publisher, or selling this in any way as a book, we were acutely aware that the whole package had to live up to the story. If it didn’t then the story, and indeed the book containing it, would be irrelevant. Could we write the songs? If we could, could we then take them to the stage in a captivating live show? Then, if we could do that, could we produce recordings that were good enough to take the whole thing forwards? As of last week, we got ourselves to the stage of having three completed studio recordings. To follow that up, we have the rest of the debut album written with each corresponding recording almost completed. We have the second album written and partly recorded and we have the third album almost written. Songs, live show, performance, experience in different cities and countries, track record of great reactions in different cities and countries, check check check. And now, as of today, we’ve completed the book. All that’s left is a few small pieces of admin.

Right. People really really have to stop saying this. We’ve proved beyond doubt at this stage that it is just wrong. The cover thing raises its head again tonight. You have to play a cover or two to get the crowd going. 

We’re at King William IV in Hampstead tonight for the third time. We get a great reception from the regulars, with Andy in the lead, coming and saying hi almost as soon as we walk in. Then when our turn comes the whole bar becomes our crowd as it transforms from polite open mic territory into The Diaries’ show. Here again, Andy leads the cheers as our name is called. His friends, who have seen us a few times, all join in, and after that the place is ours.

By the time we come to our third song, How You Rock’n’Roll, the whole place it seems is up and jumping. It’s been an absolute triumph of a show.

Then, about five minutes after we’ve played someone comes up to me and, in all politeness and love of course, suggests that we might want to try a cover or two at times. You know, to help get the crowd going. I’m sorry, but did you not see what we just did? You were even in the crowd. To be fair the person does seem to row back the comment a little with that as they realise, oh yeah. That did happen. I think it’s just become a default position. I understand people saying it to us before they’ve seen us, and certainly if they’re just meeting us for the first time and have no idea what we’re about. Fair enough. But come on. Just after we’ve finished and totally conquered a place? Playing nothing but our own songs that many people haven’t heard before? Surely that’s when you step back and think, you know, I may suggest this thing to almost everyone else, but maybe, just maybe, not these guys. 

I’ve done the whole spectrum of cover scene. In Ireland, which has an incredible standard of performer and a huge respect of the concept. And in London with my first band here, and with my own duo The Insiders, which did some really great shows. In Ireland I was a band member, then band leader, and then even became an agent. Right now I can remember eight cover acts I played with in Ireland and the two in London. So ten. Being on the scene in general I also saw a huge amount of other cover shows. I have never seen any cover band get the reactions we get playing exclusively our own songs. And I’m talking here about shows where we’ve gone in and played to audiences who have never heard of us and never heard any of our music before. And we have smashed those rooms again and again and again. All over Ireland, Europe and London, 

So may I politely, and possibly not so politely, say to everyone past present and future who may want to make the suggestion, no, we do not need to play covers.

The London Diary: Camden, days 496 and 497

Day 496

Wednesday November 13

Right. Off we go to Madrid. We’re traveling with a plan for action. We’ve bought a seat on the plane for the guitar and a PA speaker is packed into our luggage. This is a holiday with intent. We totally intend to Now Hustle. Oh, it feels really weird to be going back. I’ve been in touch with a few friends there, but many aren’t there anymore, what with ten years and a Pandemic having passed since. So yeah. I left there and came to London just over ten years ago, that anniversary having passed just over six weeks ago on Tuesday October 1. I don’t want to risk leaving people out right now, so I’ll just say here that one person we do totally expect to catch up with is Rick who Maja has got to know quite well through phone calls and all the voice memos we send between ourselves. He’s been massively interested in and encouraging of our musical adventures from the very beginning and has followed our whole story about as closely as anyone.

Before we get to tomorrow, I’m going to jump forwards a bit and cover just this. We play a show of some sort on four of the five whole days we’re here and we even have an offer of one on the fifth day to potentially complete the set. But that’s the day on which Frank Turner plays, which is the whole point of this trip so we weren’t going to miss that. During all this we also manage to get ourselves known in Madrid’s very own CBGBs, yep, named after that legendary New York venue. By the time we leave, we discover that that bar has now playlisted a whole bunch of our songs and has had a few people asking about who it is they’re listening to.

This is all to come. As for tonight, there’s no getting out and seeing even a bit of the city as we arrive at our hostel sometime around 3am. This does add just a touch of surreality to our Madrid welcome as three of the beds in this six bed-room are already occupied and we don’t want to disturb anyone. So we have to organise ourselves without turning any lights on. That’s exactly about as not fun as it sounds. 

Day 497

Thursday November 14

Up and about relatively early and I see now where we are. I knew we were in the Malasaña area of the city, which is essentially a city within a city. More about that later. But now I see we’re right around the corner from where I used to live. Well, one of the places I used to live; my Madrid history can at times be too complicated for even me to get my head round. In the six years I was there I lived in four different places and had temporary stays at a few others. In between all that I also attempted to leave Madrid at least four times with the fourth one finally sticking, and that was the move to London. There were two moves back to Cork in Ireland, and an attempted move to Hamburg with Drunken Monkees. I actually once told the whole story of Madrid in a flashback episode of ten chapters in Mark’s Diaries. But with Mark’s Diaries being over a million words long, I have no idea where in there it is. But it is all in there. Of the four places I lived in Madrid, three were in the city centre and one of them – the first , Begoña – was a little way out in the north. Of all of them, the longest lived place was the one in Malasaña, a really quite large apartment on Calle de la Puebla. It’s right around the corner from there we’re staying now. So once we’re up and out, the first thing we do is take that very short walk to the first junction which is indeed Calle de la Puebla, then it’s a quick walk to the left and there we are, looking up at floor number four. Three years I lived in that place. Half my time in Madrid. 

After that we double back and take a walk out onto Gran Via, the main city artery going through Marid. I guess the London equivalent would be Oxford Street. Then it’s breakfast upstairs in a cafe window overlooking Gran Via, facing down towards the busy intersection of Callao as we take it all in. After this we head back into Malasaña as I introduce Maja to the city labyrinth. It truly is. In the six years I lived in Madrid and the three years I lived in this exact neighbourhood, I never did manage to truly work it out. Which led to a few interesting walks home after various nights out, and quite a few times meant I was late for meeting friends after inadvertent detours, usually after thinking I was smugly finding shortcuts that had never been discovered by anyone before. You’ve basically got all the big main streets of Madrid, but come behind them, behind Gran Via and you find yourself in here. A kind of diagonally pushed square shape of a place. You really could live a great and full life in this neighbourhood without ever leaving it. Supermarkets, bars, nightclubs, music venues, simply loads of independent shops. And a whole bunch of beautiful plazas. It’s all right in here. But be warned it really is super easy to get lost and lose all sense of direction. My sense of direction can often be quite bad anyway, but it’s almost as though I never lived here and I’m not even ashamed to admit that a few times I’m really not sure which direction to go in. On the other hand, Maja’s sense of direction really is quite good and I should be at least mildly embarrassed to admit that after a few days she’s the one of us walking round Malasaña with more confidence and assurance.

It’s also worth a mention that the streets are super narrow. So narrow that the tiny pavements are buttressed by regular bollards. Which are really needed as Maja discovers in a moment of shock when a car barrels past us and she gets a good swipe from the wing mirror. It’s a brush really, but still. The psychological shock. She’s just been hit by a car. It gets laughed off nervously and we carry on our way. 

Come afternoon and we’ve had our look around Malasaña and it’s time to get out into the big wide city streets. We’re on a tapas hunt and I know a few promising places, although I constantly add the caveat, which I’ll hopefully just mention the once now. I was last here ten years and a pandemic ago so anything could have changed. But we don’t get to check out my places as a sudden pelting rain hits as we’re heading down the wide pedestrianised boulevard of Calle da la Montera. Madrid’s terrible at rain so this is an unwelcome surprise. Luckily we’re right outside something of a tapas restaurant so this becomes our any port in a mini storm. Also luckily, this is the only rain we experience in the entire time we’re in Madrid. I’m going to say now that in the six years I was living in Madrid I only remember being caught out once in a whole the whole skies are opening downpour. And that came in my first few weeks, maybe even my first week. Covering the rest of the week now, the weather really holds out for us. A little overcast Thursday, Friday and Saturday, but comfortable to be out all day wearing just light, often open jackets. But after a little walking, even that often turns to just T-shirts. We spend most of the time in high teen temperatures, at times even sneaking into the 20s. Then on the Sunday the weather really treats us as it surges up to mid and then even late 20s.

Back to today and afternoon effortlessly morphs into early evening and we decide to go get the guitar then hit a few bars before heading to Triskels to see who’s around and to play the open mic. This is still deep in Malasaña territory, a walk up the hill from that place I used to live. So yeah. Triskels was my local for quite a long time. 

We’re greeted by a massive exclamation as soon as we walk in the door. Head barman Damien. He’s from Cork and arrived in Madrid not long after I did, got his job in this bar and that was him sorted. Brilliant. The place almost fits him like a suit now and he wears it very well. It’s great to see him and have a hang out now as the bar’s still a little quiet so we’re able to chat at our leisure and he is of course introduced to Maja. 

Then Rich arrives. He’s been running the open mic here for, could I say 12 years? Maybe even 13 or 14? I remember when he began running it, taking over from Woody who was the host when I first started going. Woody remained very active on the scene for the whole time I was in Madrid, but Rich became the open mic guy and even began one or two others in other venues. I got in touch when we first decided to come to Madrid and he knows to expect us tonight. He’s alternating it now, every other Thursday with someone else, but he did tell me he’d be running it tonight which is great. 

The open mic is downstairs from the main bar. In a kind of cave like setting with a preliminary room at the bottom of the stairs before you reach the actual venue. This extra room used to be just a place you passed through, but it’s now been transformed into a whole extra bar area. Much more homely and much more roomy. It also means more people are able to be down here and see and hear the show. Which of course means a bigger audience for the performers with this room having something of a restricted view of the side of the stage.

A few people I’d lightly arranged to catch up with here tonight haven’t been able to make it for various reasons and hopefully we’ll manage something while we’re here. For tonight we have Rich, and a few other guys I know, all musicians. Melanie, Kestor Ian and Dave. But for the most part we’re unknown so let’s see how we can hit in here tonight.

The truth is, we hit damn hard, receiving the best open mic crowd reaction I’ve even seen. Anywhere. And we have the video to back that claim up.

We’ve settled in nice and comfortable near the front of the stage and it’s a good quality, entertaining open mic. Rich does his really lively punk type thing to kick things off and it all runs wonderfully smoothly from there. We’re on fifth or sixth and we have three songs. The whole place is pretty much full. About as busy as I’ve seen it and you wouldn’t fit a whole lot more in here. And it’s not exclusively performers either. Loads of people have just wandered in from downstairs and it’s just a really lively pub atmosphere with most attention at what’s happening on the stage. It’s not a sit down and be silent place either although there is a lot of respect for the performers, but one or two tables will continue to talk between themselves. But then we’re called up and almost as soon as we begin, that all changes and the room is ours. We smash it out hard with Make Me Shine. As we get deeper into the songs and the different rhythms start to take over, we can see people looking at each other like, what the hell is this. 

Then the first verse is on and I’m out in the audience and Maja is up there in the spotlight doing her thing and the whole place is just in the moment. I make my way back up to the stage for the second chorus and have to duck a little in front of Maja to get to the side of the stage. There’s a microphone stand there and I just brush it. But it’s massively overbalanced to the edge of the stage and it just goes. I stop playing and try to grab it. Maja carries on singing. A few people scream as the microphone and stand goes totally toppling. I’ve no idea who, probably Rich, but it’s caught and put back, I resume playing guitar and me and Maja are totally back in it again, sailing right to the end and a huge reaction. The crowd settles back down, but where there was mild talking before we started, there is now expectation with everyone looking up at us and just waiting to see what we’re going to do next. I’m not aware, but first Maja has to sort out something with the mic and Rich comes up to help. Sounded fine to me but OK. While they’re doing that, I’m at the front of the stage just staying in the zone and getting ready. We’re on now and it feels really on. I bounce up and down, just limbering up. But this ignites the crowd all over again and a cheer goes up. We’re ready now. Talk About The Weather. Another huge hit. Then we hit with the finale. I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). But before we play that, Maja does that thing we feel increasingly like we have to do, and announces that these are all our own songs. This gets one of the biggest cheers of the night. Apparently they thought these were covers and now can’t believe they’re the creations of the actual band in front of them.

Oh, this whole thing is breathless. The whole thing has had the look and feel of a band playing to its own fans who have been in complete anticipation of this night. The lighting is epic and some of the scenes come right out of a huge headline show, especially a moment when Maja leans into the front a little and they all stand up, hands in the air towards her as she just stares and sings over it all. Wow. Whatever I thought I expected coming back and playing here, I never imagined or dared hope of a reacion like this. All the years I’ve been hosting, attending and playing open mics all over Europe I’ve never seen a new act come in and get this kind of response. I haven’t even seen established local favourites inspire any kind of reaction remotely approaching this at an open mic. Afterwards, Melanie comes and joins us as we go for another drink and a bit of a chill back upstairs. Oh wow. Maja. This is Triskels. The place has done us proud. What a night. And what a return.

And one more thing we may come back to. Drink measures. While we’re chatting to Melanie I hear Maja order a gin and tonic. I turn round in a few minutes and see it sitting in its nice thin, tall glass, with a pint of water on the side. I later learn that the small glass was water and that the pint thing was the gin and tonic. With something like a quarter of it containing gin. I feel like that hobbit guy in Lord Of The Rings. ‘It comes in pints? I’m getting one.’ Oh, it’s so different in Madrid. In London everything is measured to an almost scientific degree. Or at least the maximum you can have in a measure is almost scientific. Believe me, the lower level isn’t scientific; underpours are practically industry standard to the point of being encouraged and even enforced in some bars. I know. I’ve worked in a bunch of them. I know. I’ve literally been pulled aside and given a stern talking to for filling a wine measure to the actual line of the measure. However, I did once ask a newly arrived boss where he stood on underpours as I didn’t like them. He looked at me like I’d just asked for an unpaid year off and said, ‘Er, that’s called stealing.’ Well, in Madrid it’s apparently called giving. 

And here we are. In Triskels

© 2024 The Diaries

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑