Maren Davidsen
I spoke with Maren Davidsen as she returns to Oslo after eight years in London, a period that shaped both her life and her songwriting in profound ways. Now stepping into a quieter, more grounded chapter, she opens up about the contrast between chaos and calm, and how that shift has redefined her relationship to creativity, identity, and self-understanding.
Blending Nordic americana with folk and country influences, Maren’s music is rooted in storytelling — raw, intimate, and deeply personal. In this conversation, she reflects on the experiences that shaped her upcoming album This Is Where I Leave You, a body of work born from a period of transition, endings, and emotional reckoning.
We also discuss her time in London and Nashville, the emotional honesty at the core of her songwriting, and the role love, solitude, and introspection continue to play in her creative world. At its heart, this interview is a portrait of an artist learning how to let go — and how to begin again from a more grounded place.
“Tennessee On My Mind” is out now on all platforms !
How would you describe where you are right now, both personally and artistically?
I feel a lot more grounded than I’ve ever been. Moving back to Oslo completely shifted my pace of life, and for the first time I’ve had the space to actually sit with myself instead of constantly being on the go. Personally, I’m calmer and more rooted, and artistically I think that shows. I’m creating from a more honest and self-aware place now, without feeling the need to chase something external. It feels more intentional, and way more serious. I have cut out a lot of old friends, exes and people that didn’t serve my purpose. There is still a “need for speed” in my personal life, and I chase that when it suits me, and usually that involves romantic relationships. But I have calmed down a lot on this front as well! I am just learning how to navigate putting myself first, which is something I think I have never done before.
You’ve described your music as a blend of Nordic americana and country — how did that sound naturally develop for you over time?
It happened quite organically. I’ve always written on guitar (and songwriting without it always feel super weird and awkward), and the core of my songs has never really changed, but my influences have. After stepping away from the chaos of my early twenties, I found myself drawn more towards music that feels timeless, raw and honest. Folk, americana and country naturally became a bigger part of my sound because they leave space for storytelling. I think the “Nordic” part comes from my environment now — there’s a certain calmness and introspection that seeps into everything.
You spent eight years in London before moving back to Norway. How did that chapter shape you both as a person and as an artist?
In every possible way. London gave me all my stories. It was relationships, heartbreak, ambition, nightlife, loneliness — everything at once. I moved there at 19 and just threw myself into it completely. It shaped me emotionally and creatively, but it also pushed me to my limits. I think a lot of my songwriting comes directly from that period. It was chaotic, but necessary.
What made you realize it was time to leave London and return to Oslo?
I think I just reached a point where I felt completely drained. I was also in incredible luck, as I had met this Australian a while back who saw me spiraling into a toxic London-scene, but he loved my music. We met in a pub. There was nothing romantic between us, but he decided to offer me a deal. He would financially invest into a 6 track EP, and housing for 6 months, as long as I left the UK and went back to Norway. I had been living at such a high intensity for so long, and I didn’t really recognize myself anymore. There was a sense that if I didn’t step away, I wouldn’t be able to grow — either as a person or as an artist. I feel like I owe that guy my life, although I never saw him again. It’s a crazy story, when I tell people they usually don’t believe me.
Your upcoming album This Is Where I Leave You sounds deeply personal. At what point did you realize you were writing a body of work rather than just individual songs?
It wasn’t intentional at first. I was just writing through a really transitional period in my life. But at some point I started noticing that everything revolved around endings — relationships, places, versions of myself. That’s when it clicked that this wasn’t just a collection of songs, it was a story. It became about letting go, in every sense. I also came up with the name “This Is Where I Leave You” back in 2020 and thought that’s an epic album name. So everything kind of just ended up fitting perfectly.
Your new single “Tennessee On My Mind” captures a real emotional turning point. What do you remember most vividly about the moment that song came to life?
The feeling of being completely alone with everything I had been avoiding. I had gone to Nashville right after running into someone from my past, and it brought up emotions I thought I had already dealt with. Sitting there alone in the U.S, away from everything familiar, I think I processed it properly for the first time. I had been making the same mistakes of going back to these patterns that were super toxic, but I was pretending I was really on the mend. A guy I met on my first day there, wanted to show me this giant guitar – and I just thought... take me anywhere! I was quite distressed. But that is how I knew it would be a great song.
You’ve spoken about feeling both inspired and emotionally drained in Nashville — how did that contrast influence the songwriting process?
I think that contrast is exactly what made the song what it is. I was surrounded by such a rich musical environment, which was incredibly inspiring, but internally I felt quite fragile. That tension between inspiration and emotional exhaustion made me strip everything back and focus on the feeling rather than overthinking the writing.
There’s a strong sense of honesty in your storytelling. Do you ever feel vulnerable sharing such personal experiences with listeners?
Yeah, definitely. Some songs feel almost uncomfortable to share because they’re so specific and personal. But at the same time, that honesty is the whole point for me. I’d rather risk being too open than make something that doesn’t feel real. And usually, those are the songs people connect with the most. And it is most DEFINITELY what I look for in the music I listen to!
The song balances intimacy with rich instrumentation. How did you and producer Martin Vinje approach building that sonic landscape?
We were very focused on protecting the core emotion of the song (as we do with all songs). It was all Martin who found these amazing musicians, and especially the fiddle-idea was all him. We wanted it to sound like a mix of Nordic folk and Nasvhille combined. It was really fun to create that.
Your music often explores love in all its forms — what draws you to that theme again and again?
I am an EXTREME lover girl. I couldn’t function without some kind of infatuation, heartbreak, or some sort of feeling that love provides – be it painful or joyous. If I find myself in a situation where there is no “friction” so to speak, or something happening on a romantic level, I just go back in time to relive it. That way I am always content, because even a boring phase in my life then becomes interesting. Whether it’s romantic, platonic, or even self-love, it tends to shape the biggest moments. It’s also where I feel things the most intensely, so it naturally becomes what I write about.
The album was recorded with a full band. How did that collaborative process shape the final sound compared to writing on your own?
The musicians I’ve worked with here in Norway are incredibly intuitive and respectful of my songs, so it never felt like losing control — more like expanding the world around each track. The musicians recorded it separately, so not recorded as a band together, but I was a part of each session and it was an amazing experience.
Looking back, what did writing this album teach you about letting go?
That letting go isn’t a single moment, it’s a process. I have never been good at “clean cuts”. I think I used to wish it as something very final, but writing this album made me realize it happens gradually. You revisit things and people, you process them from different angles, and eventually they lose their weight.
Could you list a few records that influenced the music you are making today?
I listen to so many different folk, country and indie artists that it would be impossible to mention a specific record. I give references like Joshua Slone, Lizzy McAlpine, Laci Kaye Booth at the moment when we start production and creating a sound-image. It is a mix of everything. But in terms of how I write songs, it is way more Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, and Stevie Nicks that I draw inspiration from.
How do you take care of your mental health on a daily basis?
Slowing down has been the biggest thing for me. Living closer to nature, having quiet routines, cooking, gardening — just doing simple, grounding things. I spend a lot more time alone now, but in a way that feels peaceful rather than isolating. And I try to stay connected to the people around me who really know me. I also talk a lot with God, and when I need help, just asking the universe for guidance really seems to be a thing that works for me. Why that little ritual always seems to work, I don’t know.
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