I had the strangest dream about Gavin Rossdale…

So I have this bizarre dream last night that I’m walking through the underground halls of the Hard Rock Live with Gavin Rossdale, the lead singer of Bush, and we’re eyeing the memorabilia on the walls as we go. Gavin points to a photo of Black Francis of the Pixies, refers to him as a deity, and asks if I’m into them. I sheepishly admit that I was a little too young to be into the Pixies back when they were still together, and even after bands like Nirvana kept referencing them, checking out their music has remained on my to-do list for some fifteen years. I make a mental note to grab the first Pixies album from iTunes I can find, as soon as I wake up from this.

I realize I’ve just said the word “Nirvana” to the guy from Bush, and pause to think about the ramifications of that one for a moment, but Gavin doesn’t flinch. I notice that his traditionally longish curly hair has been replaced by a fairly standard cut, and I ask him what happened to his hair. He takes a look at my shoulder-length tresses and slyly says “I gave it to you.” At one point we’re discussing the lineage of our respective middle names. Shortly thereafter I’m telling Gavin the story of Peter Rabbit.

This has become the strangest dream I’ve had in some time. We’re in Gavin’s dressing room and most of our conversation centers around his upcoming album and the launch of his solo career, save for one or two questions about his wife, who happens to be Gwen Stefani of No Doubt, and who happens to make a brief appearance on his new album. I inform Gavin that his newly released single has already charted in iTunes despite the fact that it hasn’t yet been sent to radio, and he seems surprised. I notice a bandage on his wrist and ask him if he’s got a good rock star story to go with it, and he tells me that he developed some wrist pain while carrying around his young child. We talk about the fact that Gwen is pregnant again, and how the August birth will impact the promotion of his new album. I ask him if his solo career means Bush is dead, and his answer is a minor revelation. We part ways, and the next thing I know I’m leaning against a stage and Gavin walks out to the opening notes of Machinehead.

The kicker, of course, is that last night’s dream wasn’t a dream – it actually happened. And you can read all about it later this week…