Imagine you’re drifting through a humid, neon-drenched Hong Kong market at 3 AM, your consciousness caught in a glitch between a Wong Kar-wai fever dream and a cosmic supernova. You’re not quite awake, not quite asleep, and then this voice hits you—a shimmering, ethereal frequency that feels like it’s being broadcast from a satellite orbiting a planet made of pure silk. That’s “夢中人” (Dream Person). It’s the musical equivalent of a silk ribbon caught in a jet engine: delicate, soaring, and dangerously captivating.
This isn’t just a song; it’s a masterclass in atmospheric alchemy. A Cantonese cover of The Cranberries’ “Dreams,” it strips away the Irish moor grit and replaces it with a crystalline, dream-pop sheen.
Faye Wong’s performance is a celestial event. Her use of breathy registers and that iconic yodeling technique—clearly nodding to Dolores O’Riordan but infused with her own detached, cool-girl energy—is staggering. At [03:00], the vocal runs don’t just hit notes; they pierce the veil of reality.
The jangly, distorted guitars at [00:10] provide a solid Britpop foundation, but the production by Alvin Leong adds a layer of reverb that makes the whole track feel like it’s underwater.
While the original was about the rush of new love, the Cantonese lyrics (penned by Chow Lai-mau) lean into the surrealism of a “dream lover,” perfectly matching the song’s hazy sonics.
Honestly? This track slaps so hard it’ll leave a handprint on your soul. While some covers feel like cheap photocopies, Faye Wong turned “Dreams” into something that feels more “real” than the original in the context of 90s urban isolation. It makes modern “lo-fi beats to study to” sound like a broken radiator. Listening to this is like being ghosted by a goddess—it hurts, but you’re just honored she noticed you enough to leave. It’s the ultimate “main character” music for when you’re staring out a train window pretending your life is an indie film.
Released in ’94 on the album Random Thoughts (胡思亂想), this track became the heartbeat of Wong Kar-wai’s cult classic film Chungking Express. It defined the “Cool Hong Kong” aesthetic of the 90s. Faye Wong was the bridge between Western alternative rock (think Cocteau Twins and The Cranberries) and the polished world of Cantopop, effectively dragging an entire industry into the avant-garde.
- Highs:
- The yodeling is a 10/10 level of difficulty executed with 0% effort.
- Instantly teleports you into a masterpiece of world cinema.
- It sounds as fresh today as it did thirty years ago.
- Lows:
- You will play this on loop until your neighbors call a priest.
- It might make you want to break into a crush’s apartment and clean it secretly (don’t do that, it’s a crime, even if Faye does it in the movie).
Final Verdict
9.5/10
A supernova of 90s cool. Play this while running through a rainstorm in slow motion or while trying to convince yourself that your life has a sub-plot. It’s essential listening for anyone who wants to hear what a dream sounds like when it’s captured in a bottle.