I dream about music.
The most recent dream was me quitting my job and becoming a one-man Ben Harper cover band who played the restaurant circuit (this song featured prominently). This is weird because I cannot carry a tune in a bucket, have never successfully played a chord on a guitar, and can barely play a C-Major chord on a piano.
I have never flown under my own power before either and I do that all the time in dreams so maybe it’s not *THAT* weird. Still weird though.
Sometimes I write my own songs in the dreams, sometimes I take an existing song and tweak the lyrics here, the chords there, and make the new song my own… and it’s so much better than the old one. (One song had me turn Californication into a song about the difficulties of being a real person in a real relationship with another real person and the main metaphor in the song was mining for rare earths… I woke up and the lyrics evaporated. Which is too bad because I’m pretty damn sure that they were better than the tripe in the real song.)
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about Chinese Democracy and how it reminds me, if anything, of the music that I’ve dreamed. Specifically, of the music I’d be stuck making if I had the skills to try to recreate in the real world some of the songs that I wrote while on the other side of sleep. As such, I guess that that album is something that I very, very much enjoy but cannot in good faith recommend to anybody else.
There are 14 tracks on the album and there are only three that I bother seeking out when I put the CD in the player (Better, Catcher in the Rye, and Madagascar) which is nowhere *NEAR* the ratio of listenables on any of their other albums (excepting that one which was totally awful). The reviews of the album you’ve read are pretty much right: This album is a hot mess. Indeed, one review I read said that all of the songs are either about Stephanie Seymour or about how difficult it is to make an album like Chinese Democracy.
Which brings me back to dreaming about music. This album reminds me of the evaporations of music that fall though my fingers first thing in the morning. Which is why it’s a guilty pleasure that I still listen to.
I can’t really recommend it, though.
Wierd, I have never dreamed about singing. I wonder what that says about me.
It’s what you *DO* dream about that gives us fodder for jumping to conclusions about what your dreams say about you.
If you’re going to become a one-man cover band, it’d be hard to pick a better candidate than Mr. Harper.
I dream that I can drum and play the saxophone every once in a while. I never learned how to play anything. When I sing, the voice I hear in my head is nothing like the one that comes out of my mouth, which represents a problem.
I can’t get past the difference between Appetite for Destruction (which I thought was good, but not all that and a bag of chips), Gn’R Lies (which I thought was raw and really good and underrated) and Use Your Illusion I & II (which was one halfway decent album’s songs mixed with a really crappy album’s songs and then released as a “make mo’ money” set). Guns and Roses just never got any better than Lies.
One could take 3 or 4 songs of off each of those 4 albums and make the perfect record.
The ability to make a perfect record is something that very, very few bands are capable of doing. So few have so much as a song that belongs on a mix tape…
You just gave me tomorrow’s post.
DANGIT