“7a…”
“What number is this, Chip?”
“7A!”
“Okay, don’t get excited, man… It’s because I’m short, I know.”
If you’re a “Monkees fan”–or just a purist of music–this opening immediately says to you what will follow next.
It’s “Daydream Believer“–The Monkees flagship love song. Released October 25, 1967, the single reached number one on the Billboard chart in 1967, remaining there for four weeks.
It continues to have legendary popularity.
“Daydream Believer” often reminds me of the concept of “a smile is a universal language”–because all over the world, regardless of people connecting with the lyrics, or even understanding English, “Daydream Believer” brings people together. Hearing “Daydream Believer” gives so many people hope, happiness, peace, faith, optimism, and even sometimes spirituality and a sense of God [or your word for/understanding of God]. Whether it’s The Monkees’ tours playing “Daydream Believer” at the end of their concerts, or “Daydream Believer” is being performed by other admiring bands, the haunting song will bring a whole audience to singing and swaying together, joined in a chanting, harmonious group-peace. ☮︎
“Daydream Believer” is a truly transcendental song.
“Daydream Believer” was written by John Stewart of The Kingston Trio. After it was turned down by other bands, John offered it to Chip Douglas, The Monkees’ producer, for The Monkees to record. It was recorded in 1967, and features all four of the Monkees on the track. Davy claimed he was annoyed during the takes, hence the well-known opening of the song.
John Stewart’s feelings about The Monkees cover of his song are mixed. While he was thrilled by the success of the song, he did not like that the Monkees changed a key word in the lyrics, changing the meaning all together.
“I never thought it was one of my best songs. Not at all.” John Stewart said in an interview with Henry Diltz, “And then when I heard The Monkees do it, I said, ‘My God ! The line was supposed to be, “You once thought of me as a white knight on his steed/now you know how funky life can be.” You know, after the wedding how things can get funky? And then Davy [Jones] sings, ‘Now you know how happy life can be.’ The record company wouldn’t let them say ‘funky.’ ”
I don’t know why a record company wouldn’t let The Monkees sing the word “funky”. Nor do I know how “after the wedding how things can get funky“–although perhaps this is because I have never been married myself.
What I do know is The Monkees recording of “Daydream Believer” is magical. And magical to me on a personal level. So perhaps this change from “funky” to “happy” was meant to be. It is a significant part of what this song means to me.
Years ago, when I was young, I wrote a long, detailed “analysis” of what I felt “Daydream Believer” was about. I have no copy of this writing, nor do I recall the exact details of what I wrote, but knowing my consciousness during this time of my life I am sure it would embarrass me now, so I’m pretty grateful it doesn’t exist LOL.
Nonetheless, somehow it caught the attention of John Stewart, if only for the fact that it was probably the only writing of it’s kind knocking around the early 2000s internet [to say the least]. He was touched by the fact I wrote it, and intended to meet me after one of his concerts, which I was going to go to with my boyfriend at the time [who also loved The Monkees]. Sadly, we mixed up the dates, thinking it was the following day after the event, so we didn’t make it. What’s more, I learned from people who went that after John performed “Daydream Believer” he looked into the audience to acknowledge me and say he played it for me, and I wasn’t there. Given that it was the early 2000s and I was an awkward college student, I didn’t have the physical or emotional resources to try to resolve this–I may have reached out to John to apologize, but I don’t remember. And tragically, while an older me would now find a way to communicate with John and make sure he knew I appreciated his gesture and thanked him regardless of accidentally missing the event, he has since passed. I still feel mortified and disappointed with myself over this to this day. As silly as it sounds, it is probably one of my greatest regrets because it is something I truly cannot fix now.
But maybe this is another moment of God working in mysterious ways, like The Monkees change of the song lyric, because for all I know early 2000s me would have said something weird or embarrassing to this great artist back then.
Regardless, my thoughts on the meaning of “Daydream Believer”, both then and now, are not at all what John’s meaning were behind the lyrics when he wrote it. I don’t mean this in an arrogant way, because clearly as the author, his meaning is what should be honored. But maybe this is why my writing caught his attention in the first place–because my personal projection was simply so different than anything he intended. And maybe as an artist, he’s flattered to see other people find other meaning in his work than he initially intended.
My feelings about the song have actually deepened, or evolved, since the passing of the lead singer, Davy Jones. Davy’s passing is another death I have regret around not communicating more before he passed, because Davy, who I had met before but did not really know, actually offered for me to hang out with him and a mutual friend in November of 2011, but I turned down the opportunity at the time because I didn’t want to make a long drive in my old Sebring, and I assumed the opportunity would “always be there”. Three months later, Davy had passed.
But now, hearing the lyrics, there is an ironic way it connects me to Davy, and all people who have passed. Because I believe the song is about life beyond the physical, the astral plane, the duality of the physical world and the non-physical, the soul world that is behind it all.
No: not what John Stewart meant at all.
I should probably explain at this point that I began having metaphysical experiences around the song, “Daydream Believer” long before I ever thought about the lyrics at all. I cannot easily explain these experiences with “science” as they say, but these experiences are entirely real and changed my entire life. While I have had some level of psychic experiences all of my life, when the song “Daydream Believer” entered my life it was part of the turning point of when I began to experience the world on an entirely new [and sometimes terrifying] level.
There seemed to be something around the song “Daydream Believer” that was not only magical, but connected to me personally on a magical level as well.
I don’t say this to make a claim to the song, but for some reason others have made that same connection with me and the song, and voluntarily shared that, such as anecdotal stories of people saying the song played in their head moments before they met me for the first time.
To be honest, the song haunted me.
But I learned in time that maybe this haunting was a good thing–and to not be afraid of these supernatural experiences.
It began when I first heard “Daydream Believer”. I liked it, no, loved it, along with the other songs on The Monkees Greatest Hits CD I had–but then it haunted me, and I began to begin to wonder if I had buyers regret. Not buyers regret in wanting to return to the music store in Virginia where I had bought the CD on vacation to return it, but buyers regret in suddenly realizing something absolutely terrifying seemed to be happening to me and there seemed to be no turning back.
Something terrifying because it was metaphysical. The night this started I had been listening to the song, through headphones, then I turned off the music to go to sleep. But for whatever reason, I could not stop hearing the song. Now people talk about getting songs stuck in their head, and it happens all the time–but this was different. Because it didn’t actually sound like it was in my head, it sounded like it was all around me–everywhere. LOUD. It felt like an auditory hallucination, and I couldn’t turn it off. And it played, and played, and played, and played… I had never experienced anything like this before.
And after that, I was changed.
Everything seemed different. Even my physical senses seemed to be different–I heard sound differently, tasted things differently, saw the world physically differently, as if new rods and cones grew in my eyes, new tastebuds grew in my mouth, new sensory cells grew in my ears…
But I also began to have other things happen too, like: dreams of things before they happened. Hearing someone’s speech in my head before they said it out loud…
And after Davy’s passing, I felt a visitation from him. I have no doubt this was something real, because this was no fantasy and I was absolutely terrified. The reason is, at least for me, when dead people visit me, and I am aware they are indeed dead, it feels like I am going to where they are–where people are dead–not like they are coming to where I am–where people are living.
It feels like maybe I am dying too, because I am no longer in the physical world with my physical body. And I fear I won’t be able to go back.
After it’s over, and I realize I’m alive, I can laugh about it and be like, “it wasn’t so scary, why was I so scared?”, like after a roller coaster ride is over: but you know you were screaming on that roller coaster.
At any rate, how did the visitation from Davy Jones start? With me hearing the opening chords, that famous piano written and played by Peter Tork, of “Daydream Believer”. And suddenly I’m thinking, “oh, it’s happening again…”
Haunted.