My Renaissance Dream

I have always regarded dreams as the "garbage collection of the brain," i.e., without rational or temporal significance.  Occasionally I will remember snippets when I wake up and promptly ignore and then forget them as the day wears on.  It doesn't have to wear on too far—by the time the bun has been bananafied, the dream has been deprecated.

Last night I dreamed differently.  In this dream I was sitting by a pool and a Renaissance song was playing.  I'm a big Renaissance fan, but as with most of my fossil bands, I don't listen to the them regularly.  Perhaps I'll go on a Renaissance kick once or twice a year, listen to an album or two, and move on.  I hadn't done this for many months at least and the song in question was definitely not something I'd heard recently.

In this dream I "heard" the song vividly.  Every word could be made out.  Every instrument was clear.  I play drums as a friend of mine claims to play chess:  "As a game of chance."  And yet, while "listening" to the song in my dream, I "heard" a very specific drum figure, clear as can be.  The only thing I couldn't figure out was the actual name of the song; apparently in the dream I had only heard part of it before moving on to some other improbable mental fragment.  When I woke up, instead of instantly dismissing the dream as I normally do, I decided to track down the song.  I had to listen to several Renaissance albums before I found it. 

Here is an excerpt of what I "heard" in my dream.

At least I can't be accused of dreaming ugly music!  The reason I couldn't place the name of the song immediately is that the segment I dreamed did not contain the title.  It's a long piece and the different sections (separated by a lot of lalalas) have different themes and feelings.  It's named "Things I Don't Understand," the final song on Side 1 of the "record" or Track 3 if you somehow acquired the CD.

If there is any point to this blogitem, beyond the (to me) bizarre notion of actually remembering—and even enjoying—a dream, it is that my theory of dreams has to be slightly modified.  Above, I mentioned that I have regarded them as "garbage collection of the brain."  Apparently, they are "garbage creation of the brain" as well.  Remember that drum figure I "heard?"  Listening to it on the record, I realized that my perfervid imagination added precisely one snare hit when I replayed it from my neurotransmitter-soaked wetware.  Not so bad?  Well, it seems that I also "wrote" an additional verse.  It was very good one, too.  I wish I could have remembered it upon awakening.

NP:  "Things I Don't Understand" - Renaissance (what else?)

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