I’ve been having some mighty weird dreams in the last 6 months. I’ve always dreamt and my dreams have always tended to be on the weirder side of normal. But in the last 6 months things have really taken an odd turn for sure.
There was the Mogwai dream where I was in a cafe drinking coffee when they wandered in with all their gear, set up and started practicing. Thing was, it wasn’t very loud, even though it was – if that makes sense. So anyways, I sat and drank my coffee and then when they started playing ‘Friend of the Night’ I sat down at the piano in the coffee shop and started playing along with them. Stuart then wandered over to me and asked me to stop because I was too loud and they couldn’t hear themselves. Odd.
There was the Harrison Ford dream. But I don’t like to talk about that one. Odd.
Then last night I dreamt that the Felice Brothers had come to town to play a show that I was promoting. They arrived and I helped them in with their gear – not sure what the gear was but it was incredibly heavy as I helped Christmas with this big stack, which could have been a bass stack but looked more like a grand piano. Once the gear was in, we settled down to watch a documentary on the screen behind the stage and the lead singer of the band started hitting on me. Petting me and giving me big gooey eyes. Eventually, after trying desperately to squirm away I had to tell him that I didn’t like boys in that way, which really upset him. So I sat down at the piano and he started asking me if I could play Frankie’s Gun! – which of course I could and this made him feel better about my earlier rejection. Odd and odd.
I do love dreams. I have never been one for interpreting them, not interested, just enjoying the madness of them. It’s kind of like you save up all the madness in your head and then when you go to sleep your brain releases a valve and a giant wave of crazy bursts into your brain. Like pulling a stick out of a damn and watching it flood the normality below. Kind of makes sleeping more exciting.