My dreams have become more intense in the eighteen months since Isaac died (and I remember more of them when waking). I've written before about how disconcerting and unsettling it has been on those occasions when I've woken up and have bene dreaming about him. I haven't dreamt about him for a while now, now I think about it. But my dreams remain vivid and intense, often quite stressful, a sign maybe that my subconscious is working overtime, that my brain is processing a lot. The last few weeks have been hard in some ways, the never- ending slog through grief and loss taking a toll. I've got constant low level illnesses, one after another, my immune system clearly not functioning fully. The feeling of dread and emptiness that strikes out of nowhere some days, a sense of being aimless and adrift, not quite sure where the centre is any more.
The times I've felt best in the year and a half since he died have mainly been connected to music and in the company of crowds/ others. Evenings watching bands, where I'm a member of the audience, one person in a crowd. Those weekends DJing at The Golden Lion and Blossom Street. The occasions lost on the dancefloor at the Lion, dancing to the music being played by David Holmes, Justin Robertson and Sean Johnston. These have been the times when I've been lifted out of myself, a few hours of respite and uplift.
This song, Dreams (On The Strip), came from one of those situations. Martin played it when we warmed up for ALFOS three weeks ago and listening to it recently has been a bit of a joy- rippling, gliding, euphoric psychedelia, drums and synths, summer sounding vocals and, in the video, a Lebanese- American belly dancer Alia Mohamed.
Dreams (On The Strip) is by London band Flamingods. It came out at the end of May this year, their first new music since 2019. Well worth the wait. At Bandcamp you can buy it for one pound (dollar/ euro/ unit) and it's worth every penny/ cent. A song that sounds like the sort of thing that should be the soundtrack to our dreams.
