Press interview with Paul McCartney • Jul 29, 1966 for New Musical Express

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PAUL: I get caught out in street in underwear!

“THIS is James Paul McCartney Esquire,” he said as I began to take notes, “and yes, I do dream. Every time I sleep I ’ave a dream. I ‘ave some good ‘uns and a lot of bad ‘uns. But that’s the reason you dream isn’t it — to get rid of all the nasty thoughts you’ve been storing up throughout the day. Actually, from what I read dreams are supposed to be a sort of release from tension and reality. All your subconscious troubles come to the surface. BUT YOU KNOW, ALL SORTS OF IDEAS GO THROUGH MY OWN MIND WHILE I’M ASLEEP; THINGS YOU WOULDN’T EXPECT. NOT LONG AGO I HAD ONE WHERE I WAS QUEUING UP AT A LABOUR EXCHANGE, SHUFFLING ALONG THE LINE WAITING TO GET ME DOLE MONEY.”

Violent death!

“I’ve also dreamt about violent death and times when I’ve needed to run for my life — but I think that kind of thing happens to everybody at some time or other. It’s an insecurity thing. I think I’m pretty normal in that I don’t remember too much about them, once I wake up. I might recollect a dream for just a few minutes over breakfast. After that, it just goes right out of my mind, and I spend the rest of the day thinking: ‘What WAS that etching dream you had last night, Paul? Come on man, what WAS it?”

“USUALLY IT’S NO USE. IT’S FORGOTTEN FOREVER.

“Occasionally I have a dream so memorable or frightening that I just can’t forget it, and I’ve ‘nd a few like that about flying. I’ve dreamt I’m up in the air and the plane keeps going to crash, or the weather’s bad and we’re being rocked about all over the place. I also have the normal ones everybody has, about being caught in the street in my underwear. But everybody has them, don’t they?… according to Freud!

“Once upon a time, I need to dream about holidays a lot. I suppose it was when I yearned to be famous and have lots of money. There I’d be, lyin’ in the sun like a millionaire, with the toes tickin’ in the sand and me hand reachin’ out for an ice-cold coke.

“THEN I’D WAKE UP.”

He had been sitting astride a chair the wrong way round. Suddenly he stood up and swivelled it forward. Then he sat down again and cupped his chin in his hand in a pose like a piece of Greek sculpture.

Hitch-hiker

“The funny thing is George and I used to go on holiday to sunny places at that time — in real life, that is — but we used to get there by hitch-hikin’. We had hardly any money and we used to take hover-sacks filled with tins of Ambrosia creamed rice and a little portable stove for cooking with. Not for drinking; I haven’t drunk that stuff yet!”

I asked him to tell me about a dream he might have the night before.

HE STARTED LAUGHING, “I CAN’T REALLY; NOT THE ONE I HAD LAST NIGHT. THAT WOULD DEFINITELY GET AN ‘X’ CERTIFICATE, THAT ONE!

“I like dreamin’, y’know, I ’ave a good time, dreamin’. In fact, I just like being in bed. It’s great. Best place on earth, folks!”