Had a bit of a nap coming to me this morning already, as the youngest awoke at a ghastly hour of 5:30 am on a Saturday - a most cruel and unusual punishment. The fitful piece of a nap that took place in the worst of places - a couch with all manner of commotion still spouting off around me - was only good enough to make me feel more tired than I already was and for those strange, truncated bits of dreaming. The only thing that came to me, that I remembered later was that someone ruined my weekend because they told me that my cousin was going to be getting married this afternoon - something I hadn't been informed of - and that it was absolutely required that I be there for the ceremony and the reception, that I may even have a duty in one or the other so I was going to have to really put on the good clothes and not just half-tuck it.
It was something of a mild dream to have to go through. It was nothing that was going to freak me out or unsettle me for longer than its duration and though the London band Weird Dreams has a name that would suggest otherwise, the dreams that seem to come out in its songs feel as if they are milder than advertised. Lead singer Doran Edwards sings on "Little Girl," "In the morning when we wake up/We'll make a little fun of weird dreams…/I know I've had my fair share of weird dreams," but those weird dreams are never fully outlined or really even hinted at too much. We're just to take his word for it -- that he's slept through some really warped stuff that he's remembered quite well enough to relay them to others after waking up.
Also in the aforementioned song, Edwards seems to be addressing the skiddish night behavior of a young lady, convinced that there are spooks and intruders padding around in the dark home, making it impossible for her to rest easy. The protagonist is just trying to make her feel better, telling her that he's felt some of the same things, that there's nothing abnormal about that, but he was there and she was going to be alright as long as he was. Weird Dreams music is made up of all the specific sensations that can be sensed in the song "Velvet Morning," a warm rush of wonderfully methodical melancholy. It's a dash of crystal light and a yellow glow that makes everything touching your skin or hitting your eye feel soft as a puppy. It's about waking up and making everything else - all that was before - wash completely away, the weird dreams or the emptiness.