My colleague, Stuart Kay, and I had been asked to open for the German experimental rock band Einsturzende Neubauten. We walked on stage with our ukuleles and confidently played Elvis Presley's "Wooden Heart" to great acclaim.
Notes for Freudian Interpretation
Stuart has never played a ukulele in his life. His novelty instrument of choice is the mandolin, but, in any case, I haven't talked to him about playing music for a while. He sits opposite me in the office and the day I had the dream, I stretched out my legs while reading my book and accidentally kicked him under the desk, for which I apologised immediately.
I haven't heard anything by Einsturzende Neubauten in years, but, at the weekend, I passed a hairy, slack-jawed student who was shuffling through the Meadows wearing a T-shirt with their logo on it. I noticed that, although I obviously had very little in common with the student and, to be honest, didn't much like the look of him, I was pleased to be part of the minority of people who would recognise the obscure reference. The reason I recognised the logo is because, years ago, when I was a hairy, slack-jawed student, a friend of mine got it tattooed on his upper arm. He wasn't a huge fan of the band; he just wanted the exceedingly hip people who knew the band well enough to recognise the logo to assume that he was the kind of exceedingly hip person who liked that sort of music well enough to get Einsturzende Neubauten's logo drilled into their body for ever. What a moron!
I haven't ever played "Wooden Heart" on my ukulele and I don't even like the song. Of course, it was a German folk song originally, which is presumably why I decided it would be suitable. The crowd certainly liked it, which is nice to know.