At my parents' house, some gathering, my father is playing records and/or trying to fix something. I go to my old room, which is oddly similar to how it used to look. I find this audio cassette set I'd gotten for free somewhere, a 3 tape set of records by Kermit the Frog. I go into the den to show my sister, as I'm excited and am also thinking I can make a copy for my nephew, but she is not that interested. My interest also decreases when I remove the tapes from the set case to find the individual records are not of Kermit, but rather, of some other mysterious muppet called "Tessie," who is apparently trendier in hipster circles since he wears a toupee. Unfortunately his voice, I seem to remember, is annoying, so I can't imagine a 3 tape set of him holding much promise.
Outside in a crowded area at night, near some building, lots of high school characters figure. I see someone slightly resembling G, who then suddenly not only greatly resembles but definitely IS G. Do not get to say hi, talking to DJ. Sit up on steps next to PB. I know he's retired but figure he's still active so I ask him what music stuff he's involved in. He nods to acknowledge my deduction and also mentions he's 55 years old, which is younger than he is.
George Harrison and Jeff Lynne appear to be making records in a closet similar to my own, and I make some flattering comments and am eager to be there and learn. GH leaves and I sit in a main room with JL. I tell him that when I was younger, the ELO song "It's a Livin' Thing" scared me because I didn't know what he was referring to in the chorus. He tells me now that he was referring to "love." I feel foolish for not knowing. At one point I badly mimic the opening violin line on a nearby piano.
Next it's time for David Byrne and me to chat. We're talking about songwriting, he asks me if I've written any, I say yes and he hands me an acoustic and tells me to play it. "2 measures," he says but that seems awfully short so I decided on the last "8 bars" of Our Day Will Come, and actually play and sing the last verse and outro. DB grabs another guitar and tries to follow a little. I'm worried that I'll be drowned out by a record JL is putting on nearby, but it turns out to be a quiet, unintrusive instrumental piece. I sound ok and DB seems to appreciate it. Instead of starting another song, I tell him I saw him hanging out at CB's Gallery (in reality it was Seventeen.) He looks different now, younger, dark hair again. He says he had a bicycle injury and pulls up a pants leg to show me a grotesquely swollen, watermelon-size upper thigh. There are some hippie pharmacists behind a counter near him when he backs up and shows me. DB talks about how he has to get it drained now and then, and that he sends the medical results out as gifts as a joke sometimes.
There's a short final sequence where I'm walking down 92nd in Queens Village in daytime near my grandparents' old house, which has now become a recording studio in the dream. A lot of techie types are running about out front, self-importantly making sure they control everything that comes near, and this bothers me. Something about their cleaning and throwing antics reminds me of New Orleans.
Another night recently I had a small fragment in which I'm hearing someone playing Pee Wee Ellis' tune "The Chicken" so I follow the sound, pick up a nearby upright bass and start playing the Jaco bassline along with this piano player. I'm listening to him to hear if he is indeed playing the tune I thought it was, and when he goes to D7, I'm certain. At some point in this dream, I look up from the street and there, about 6 stories up, peering down from the roof, a stylized sort of Grim Reaper/Angel of Death type appears to be looking down at me, just letting me know he's there. The way I'm situated, he's upside-down, since my back is to the building he's peering down from.
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