Bloc Party - Sunday

Pondering on yesterday's post, and on how the mere act of dreaming can conjure up so much from your past, I had a flood of memories this morning, and it does tie into a theme I'd touched upon before, which is remembering the exact first time you listened to a song.
I'd been impressed with Bloc Party's 'A silent alarm', but not so much so that when their sophomore album 'A weekend in the city' came out, I rushed out to get it. Or even listen to it. I did listen, though, to maybe a couple of singles - 'Hunting for witches' to be sure, at least.
Now here's where the math doesn't add in my mind : the album was released in February 2007, and my recollection of listening to 'Sunday' was certainly - in my mind's eye, at least - on a summer's day. It could very well be that this was so, though I can't really account for that gap.
It was, and of that I am sure, first listened to on a very apropos sunday. At the time I was dating Sil and this had to have happened before she left to the Netherlands in September. I was also DJing at the time, and usually I did my gigs on saturday nights, meaning that my sundays would normally be very hung over. The folks at the bar where I played made sure I always had something to drink, especially Lisa, who I knew from another bar where I also played, she'd give me these massive glasses full of vodka and red bull - like 80% vodka, and man, there were some nights when the trip back home would be quite the chore.

Anyway, I was lying in her bed, a tiny thing barely enough for her, let alone the two of us. The radio was on, she was already up, and the noise from outside kept me from sleeping in. I got up and sat on the bed, still bleary eyed, still groggy from the previous night. I notice that the radio was on, I'd been ignoring it so far. She sidles up to me and serves me a bowl of cereal and fruit she'd kindly prepared for us, and we just sat there, in silent contemplation of her coming departure. Then the drums come in, accompanied by an almost churchlike organ before Kele starts singing. We sat there, munching to our heart's delight, and the song played.
A few months after that we'd be trying - and failing - to make it in London, and Bloc Party became part of my soundtrack to those days. Both this album as well as its follow-up, 'Intimacy', were an integral part of my day. So many hours spent traversing that sprawling city, embedding its nooks and crannies in my mind. I once plotted - but never followed through on it - a trek through London based on a chapter of Alan Moore's 'From Hell', where Sir William Gull guides his driver Nettley across the history of the city, going back hundreds and hundreds - maybe even thousands - of years.
Ah well, maybe next time, eh?