In Dreams, We Find What We Have Lost
There are some songs that, with a single, trembling note, transport you back in time. They don’t just evoke a memory; they conjure a feeling, a scent, a touch. Roy Orbison’s masterpiece, “In Dreams,” is one of those timeless pieces of art. Released in February 1963, this operatic rock ballad wasn’t just another pop hit; it was a heart-rending confession set to music, a testament to the raw power of unrequited love and the cruel solace of dreaming. It’s a song that has been a staple for generations of heartbroken souls, who’ve found a kinship in its profound sorrow.
Upon its release, “In Dreams” soared up the charts, reaching number 7 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the U.S. and a respectable number 6 on the UK Singles Chart. It was a remarkable achievement, particularly given the seismic shift in the music landscape at the time. Orbison was touring with The Beatles in the UK, and while the “Fab Four” were the new sensation, Orbison’s unique blend of vulnerability and vocal prowess meant he was often upstaging them, even before their meteoric rise to global fame. The song itself was the title track of his fourth studio album, also named “In Dreams,” which was released later that year and peaked at number 6 in the UK Albums Chart.
The story behind the song is as ethereal as the tune itself. Orbison claimed that the song came to him while he was sleeping—a theme that would be central to the song’s meaning. He often heard music in his dreams and would wake up to write it down. “In Dreams” was no different. He awoke one morning with the melody and the idea of a “candy-colored clown” who would put him to sleep, and he wrote the song in just 20 minutes. This genesis speaks to the song’s intimate, almost subconscious feel. It doesn’t follow the typical verse-chorus structure of most rock and roll songs, but instead flows like a narrative, moving through seven distinct musical sections that mirror the journey of falling asleep, dreaming of a lost lover, and waking to the bitter reality of her absence. This unconventional structure, combined with Orbison’s phenomenal three-octave vocal range, gave the song its signature “operatic” quality, setting it apart from anything else on the radio.
At its core, “In Dreams” is a tragedy of the highest order. It’s a crushing ode to a love that only exists in the sanctuary of sleep. The lyrics paint a picture of a man who finds his only happiness when he drifts away into the night, where his lover is with him “all of the time.” But the song’s beauty lies in its heart-wrenching climax, as the dream fades and he wakes to find her gone. The final, powerful crescendo—”It’s too bad that all these things / Can only happen in my dreams”—is a raw and emotionally vulnerable confession, a moment of gut-wrenching realization that is as universal as it is personal.
The song’s enduring legacy was unexpectedly cemented in the 1986 film Blue Velvet, directed by David Lynch. The film’s use of “In Dreams” was a pivotal moment for Orbison’s career, which had waned in the 1970s. Lynch’s decision to have the psychotic villain, Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper), lip-sync the song added a sinister, unsettling layer to the seemingly innocent lyrics. It proved that a song’s meaning could be transformed by its context, revealing the inherent darkness and fatalism that lay beneath the surface of Orbison’s sweet melody. Though Orbison initially hated this use of his song, he later came to appreciate how it gave his work a “whole new dimension,” introducing his music to a new, younger generation of fans.
Oldies Songs