In some kind of weird latter-day Jimmie Nicol deal, I got co-opted into the Beatles. McCartney was absent for some reason, so I was to play bass at the evening’s gig. Lennon was the only HJH around, no sign of the other two. The set list seemed to include a lot of latter-day Lennon – I said I didn’t know that stuff too well, plus playing bass would be a problem since I wasn’t left-handed and didn’t seem to have a bass of my own. Lennon just brushed this aside – it’ll be fine, he said.
It wasn’t going to be a huge gig – just a couple of amps and a drum kit set up on what looked like a bomb site. I didn’t seem to have an amp either, but Lennon said I could share his (possibly a reference to my time in unpopular beat combo Paul and the Dynamics, when I and the rhythm guitarist shared a Vox AC30).
Next problem: the Beatle Bass didn’t have a strap. Cue a dream subplot, where I eventually got one from Ali, the brother of my stepson’s partner. He’s an actual pro musician. The strap was made entirely of brass, and was totally unbendy, but it seemed to be the only one he could spare – jealous, probably. Like everything else, it didn’t seem to matter.
The gig happened, but not in my dream, frustratingly. Lennon was pleased with my performance, and seemed to be hinting that there might be other gigs in the offing. I was modestly pleased with myself, naturally, while not understanding about what had happened or why. All through the dream I was running through Beatles songs in my head, with particular reference to bass parts. When I woke up I was playing bass on Girl…
What does it all mean?
Mike, perhaps one explanation is that you’ve been thinking about the Beatles a lot recently. Have you by chance been spending time in person or online with a group of people who are mildly obsessed with the Beatles?
I dreamt about Boris last night, I’m worried to say. I was at a GP commissioning meeting, and it was, as often, interminably dull. He came and sat next to me, and, as we knew each other, in the dream, we nodded and made brief how are yous. The meeting went on and i got progressively bored, lying on the table top a la Rees-Mogg on the front bench. Thank goodness for the alarm.
Did you fall out of bed twice?
There is that story about Lennon being unprepared for the Toronto concert, and trying to rehearse on the plane over, throwing up with nerves before the gig etc. Did perennial crowd favourite Revolution #9 get an outing at the gig @mikethep ?
Since the whole gig is a blank, who knows? Since there was no sign of George and Ringo, perhaps I was Yoko? That’s an unsettling thought…
Did you wake up screaming?
Actually no, I woke up singing, Is there anybody going to listen to my story….then I thought, That gives me an idea…
I dreamed I saw Saint Augustine… wearing a Biffo onesie.
You see worse in real life down Aldi, to be fair.
Asda in Bridgwater. Once saw someone in the middle of the day going in, in fluffy slippers and jim-jams, with a dressing gown over the top. NFB. . .
Once dreamt I was in The Beatles during the making of Let it Be, nightmare of course.
We’re you naked?
No only naked in dreams where I am late going to school for an exam, finally arrive and realise I have forgotten to put on my uniform (or anything else)
I used to have a similar recurring dream where I was about to go stage at the Festival Hall with Weather Report, and I was the keyboard player.
When we were all just behind the curtain I’d point out to the band that I couldn’t play the piano at all, but it didn’t seem to bother them.
I don’t know where Joe Zawinul was in all this – someone else’s dream perhaps
Blimey, that’s ambitious!
It’s fusion mate, just play any old shite.
….as Jaco used to say