It was one of those songs that came largely in one go, which doesn’t happen very often, and is usually a good sign. In a sense, it was a private message from me to someone who was withdrawing from their world.”
Neil Finn, “The Story Of The Song: Don’t Dream It’s Over” by Consequence Podcasts, 2021.
So often, while conducting the basic background research for the entries in this series, I discover that the particular song I’ve always adored more or less poured out of its composer fully-formed within the span of a few hours, sometimes even minutes, as if it had already been written by somebody else, or by some paranormal musical force that somehow infiltrates the subconscious. So it was with Don’t Dream It’s Over, Neil Finn’s gorgeous, anthemic, late-Eighties classic that became his signature tune, and a big international hit for his band Crowded House back in 1987. Finn was sitting at the piano in his brother’s house, in the middle of a bad day, grumpy, feeling anti-social and trying to avoid getting involved with a number of guests who’d been invited over by bandmate Paul Hester, when out it flowed, and right away he knew he had something special. Still, subsequent recording sessions didn’t really gel until producer Mitchell Froom suggested a bluesy bass line and the addition of a Hammond organ to add texture, the latter lending the song a nostalgic, Whiter Shade of Pale sort of vibe that caught on throughout a global pop music audience grown weary with electronic drums and synth-soaked New Wave danceable toons.
Written in E Flat Major, said to be “the key of love, of devotion, and of intimate conversation with God”, Don’t Dream It’s Over charms not merely on the strength of its typically sublime melody, but also an evocative yet straightforward set of lyrics that convey genuine emotion, as the singer pleads with his lover to fight for their relationship, despite nebulous outside pressures that threaten to tear them apart. They come to build a wall between us he sings, anxious that she doesn’t understand, or worse no longer cares, as expressed in the seemingly offhand observation that In the paper today, tales of war and of waste / But you turn right over to the TV page, as apt a description of dull affect as you’re going to hear this side of I read the news today, oh boy. Maybe she’s growing distant, and indifferent, but he’s not about to give up. Find me a better expression of longing, optimism, and steadfast commitment than this:
There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There’s a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you’ll never see the end of the road while you’re travelling with me
He’s not saying anything’s going to be easy. He’s not denying that to her, he might sound absurdly optimistic. He’s just saying this thing isn’t over. Or at least, it doesn’t need to be.
You can’t help but wonder whether his plea is falling on deaf ears, and that’s what really tugs at your heart.
the needlefish 