A dream’s forgotten sorrow

I love taking Wednesdays off from work. There is something about splitting a week into two “mini-weeks” that delights the hell out of me. Dealing with a couple of short weeks instead of one long one makes the typical work week much more bearable.
Taking Monday or Friday off is the approach favored by most since everyone wants that long weekend but it’s so cliched. I don’t have much of a weekend life (as defined by the Majority), so having 3 consecutive days away from work does nothing for me. If anything, having that many consecutive days off allows me to build a doomed momentum as I descend into an overly focused state of enjoyment and leisure; invariably, my third day off is spent in differing states of vague sadness because I will be heading back to work. However, when I split up the work week with a Wednesday vacation, this isn’t as likely to happen, for the day off only represents a hiccup in the week and there is little to no despair at the passing of a day off, for I never really left the work frame of mind to begin with. It’s a psychological ploy, I’m fond of those.

It was a nice day off.
I took my son to the Guitar Center in Hollywood with a quick stop beforehand at Amoeba Records so he might see for himself how music stores looked back in the day when we bought music in cases from stores dedicated exclusively to music, and the kooky vibe that goes with it. On the way home we were hungry, so we stopped at Fatburger in Hollywood, just up the street from Kaiser Hospital. On the way out a homeless guy lounged on one of benches in the sun. I gave him my change, 17 cents. It was all I could summon but I suppose when you’re living on the streets every little penny helps, even 17 of them.

In the course of the day off, as outlined here in my cheesy link-filled narrative, I heard a song which strikes me deeply whenever I hear it. And I simply don’t know why. Most times, when I hear Champagne Supernova by Oasis, a numbly agonizing wave of sadness washes over my soul. If I’m in the right frame of mental disrepair, I may even need to swallow a light sob.

The odd thing is, it wasn’t always like this.

See, me and Champagne Supernova, we “go back.”

I had a dream about the song…well, it wasn’t about the song, per se.
I have these dreams, strange and disconcerting faux-nightmares which leave me rattled. They aren’t nightmares in the typical sense. They are subdued and disguised rote insignificant snippets but seem enormous when they visit me in their nocturnal form. These dreams, seen in hindsight from the normalcy of the daylight hour, seem like ridiculously tame chapters of nothingness, but at night, when they rouse me from my sleep, are immensely frightening.

My dream…I don’t remember it very well. The only thing I remember is that it had a “soundtrack” and the track was “Champagne Supernova.” I have no idea what the dream was about, its “story,” but I know that the song played in the story’s background and that its sad refrain left me crying in the dream. When I awoke I was still reeling from the same sense of despondency I had tracked back from the dream.

The dream was suffused with a sorrow which I’ve been unable to detach from the song. It’s as if the song, while playing in the dream’s background, was interlaced with the grievous laments of the dream itself (which I’ve forgotten), and now, any time I hear the song, fugitive memories of its partner dream elicit the emotionality in the absence of the dream’s details which appear to be buried deeply and irretrievably in my memory.

I knew the song prior to my dream, but it didn’t affect me then as it does now.
I’ve dissected the lyrics for hints or clues that might lead me toward recognition.

Noel Gallagher himself has not revealed what, if any, meaning or significance the lyrics represent.
According to Wiki:

In a 2009 interview, Noel told the following anecdote:
This writer, he was going on about the lyrics to “Champagne Supernova”, and he actually said to me: ‘You know, the one thing that’s stopping it being a classic is the ridiculous lyrics.’ And I went: ‘What do you mean by that?’ And he said: ‘Well, Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball — what’s that mean?’ And I went: ‘I don’t fucking know. But are you telling me, when you’ve got 60,000 people singing it, they don’t know what it means? It means something different to every one of them.’

Indeed. As with any form of prose or poetry, interpretations are often up for grabs. What is a champagne supernova?

Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dreams, she never dies
Wipe that tear away now from your eye
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova
‘Cuz we don’t believe
That they’re gonna get away from the summer
But you and I will never die
The world’s still spinning around we don’t know why
Why-why-why-why-i-i

Who knows.
The tone of the song and its lyrics, when examined from a broad and displaced perspective, have always struck me as a sentimental remembrance of high school, youth, of wild and reckless abandon. How much stock can we place in such an interpretation when the writer himself disavows any intricate symbolism? The only hope is to interpret these lyrics as a subconscious indication of Gallagher’s latent emotional issues, much like a psychologist might scrutinize one of his patient’s Rorschach tests.

Well forget that, I’m trying to figure out what the hell my dream was about. That’s my quest. Not Noel Gallagher’s hang-ups.