Bloc Party started off under a different name as a small two-piece band in 1998, nowhere else than London. However, it wasn’t until 2003 that their music made it one the radio and fellow artists started to notice them. 2005 at last, saw the release of ‘Silent Alarm’, their first full record, preceded only by some EPs and now as band of four members.

Silent Alarm turned Bloc Party into one of the most successful indie bands, making them famous not only in the UK but all across the globe.

In early 2007 then, the band released their second highly anticipated CD A Weekend in the City. The record leaked before the actual release date and gave anyone who wanted an early chance to listen and hear for themselves what the critics had so harshly pointed out.

The lyrics on AWITC point the finger at the malfunctioning integration of immigrants in London society, the prejudices people are met with, the racism, even in advanced times as ours.

As someone of African origin, singer Kele recounts tales of difficulties he had to overcome but somehow, so much honesty and truth didn’t seem to sit well with the critics.

Musically, AWITC is different from the first record but the sound remains uniquely Bloc Party.

The same can be said for Intimacy, the newest record. It sounds different, a lot more electronically influenced but the guitar and driving drum beats give the band away easily.

Any new band that comes into my life will probably always fail at this one test: Comparing to Bloc Party, who are, hands down, my favourite band.

Just as I think Hallelujah might be possibly the best song written, Bloc Party seems to be the best band formed (in our time, that is. I still love me some good, old Beatles tunes. And yeah, it’s not PATD, shocking, I know).

There are a lot of their songs which I love – the ones that make me dance, the ones I curl up to on the couch and those I listen to when I want to think.

Uniform is one of those. I chose this song to talk about because I’ve recently started to think about the subject it approaches.

Just the other day I was IDed, asked whether I was 18 already when I am in fact 23. I don’t look it because I dress like all the youngsters. In striving to be different, I actually manage to re-create an impression of my 17 year-old self (only that I wasn’t quite so cool at the time).

It’s funny, really, a lot of times, I find myself standing at the bus stop being given the once over by kids who are so clearly half a decade younger than I. They cannot know my true age, of course they can’t, but what makes them angry is that someone is trying to pull of their look which they think of as entirely unique. In reality though, everything is taken from the window shops and fashion magazines.

Now only does Uniform touch upon this subject. It also criticises the kids’ abuse of alcohol and drugs; it criticises the speed of consumerism and how the world today isn’t bearable for the youth anymore (without substance abuse). I guess recent studies in Germany underline that statement.

It pains me to think that these are the kids I’ll maybe have to teach one day but it also makes me ambitious to perhaps offer them a different outlook on life, to show them that it can be so much more than fashion brands, reality TV and alcohol.

The above picture of Bloc Party was taken by me.