The following article appeared in New Musical Express on July 29, 1966, page 8. Written by Alan Smith.
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. 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'.
This is James Paul McCartney Esquire," he said as I bgan to take notes, "and yes, I do dream.
"Ev'ry 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.
"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 exciting 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 'ad a few like that about flying. I've dreamt I 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 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 used to dream about holidays a lot. I suppose it was when I yearned to be famous and have pots of money. There I'd be, lyin' in the sun like a millionaire, with me toes ticklin' 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 pose like a piece of Greek sculpture.
"We had hardly any money and we used to take haver-sacks filled with tins of Ambrosia creamed rice and a little portable meths 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've 'ad a good time, dreamin'. In fact I just like being in bed.
"It's great."
"Best place on earth, folks!"