Just another dream, here’s the setup: a large formal hall, diners seated. Some singer walks off stage. I learn from the guests at my table that the singer has a pamphlet.
I opened the colorful brochure and thought that’s a good idea. Promotion. Good photos, description. He was some Middle Eastern guy, apparently. There was even Arabic writing I couldn’t understand. Odd.
But then I remembered the song he had just sung. It was that song. That’s the guy?
“He’s local?” I asked. This was a famous song that really sat in the back of my brain. I started to sing it.
“You made me feel like the one. Made me feel like the one…”
In a loud, passionate refrain, I sounded so real with all the tiny imperfections, the subtle reverb off the walls, and the air giving out. But, damn, I could sing that song. I couldn’t remember the name. It was that guy?
Of course, it wasn’t that guy. It was the Stereophonics and Dakota.
That song is buried deeply in me, which I didn’t know, and not just because of the soundscape, but because of the story. Dakota is Chris, if you had read my short story. The website it was published at is now defunct. That song and my own nostalgia blend together. Dakota is the idealized, voiceless version of Chris in the video. The feelings brought out in the song and the life chapter match up like transparent layers, one over the other.
I don’t think that music video does justice to the song, but it does hint at what I’m getting at.