The Sundays- “When I’m Thinking About You” (Static and Silence-1997)

(Revisiting post 18 years later.)

The Sundays- “When I’m Thinking About You” (Static and Silence-1997)

…And today, I did, indeed, think about you, Harriet. I remember it perfectly. The year was 1997, and my boyfriend had surprised me with tickets to see you, The Sundays—my favorite band of all time. I was ecstatic. We arrived an hour before the concert, hoping to catch a glimpse of the four beings who had so blissfully adorned my life with beauty and ethereal melodies for almost eight years.

An hour later, which felt like an eternity, the lights finally dimmed. One by one, Harriet Wheeler, David Gavurin, Patrick Hannan, and Paul Brindley appeared on stage. I was ecstatically aphonic. I could hardly believe I was standing there seeing them play live, so close to the stage I could feel the heat of the stage lights on my face. I was overwhelmed with gratitude, unable to contain my excitement.

The Sundays-Patch Hannan, Harriet Wheeler, David Gavurin, Paul Brindley

I will never forget the instant I saw Harriet as she entered the stage from the left, gracefully waving and bowing to the audience. She looked as if she had stepped out of one of the countless photos I had admired over the years—denim overalls, yellow Doc Martens, and her hair loosely pinned into a French twist. It felt like a surreal moment, one worthy of being immortalized by Dalí. No, I wasn’t hallucinating. That was truly Harriet standing before me.

When the band began to play, and Harriet’s voice filled the air with roses, I thought: this is it. My purpose in life—thought back then—had been fulfilled. For nearly two hours, I sang along with my Siren, utterly elated by the experience.

After the concert, my soul was fulfilled—content for a lifetime. But I convinced my boyfriend to stick around the premises and see what might happen next. Fans hung around, some chatting, others conducting interviews or taking photos. And then, suddenly, a group of people gathered near the back door. To my astonishment, it was The Sundays who had re-entered the venue. A wave of emotion rushed through the crowd: cheers, screams, tears of disbelief and joy. And, of course, I joined them.

David – “Joy” (Reading, Writing and Arithmetic – 1990)

David Gavurin and Harriet Wheeler

The first member I encountered was David Gavurin. He asked me my name, and for a moment, I froze. I couldn’t utter a single syllable. Luckily, my boyfriend, ever the calm one, became my spokesman, rescuing me from complete embarrassment.

When David learned I was of Hispanic descent, he became intrigued. He led me to some nearby chairs and began speaking to me in Spanish. It was surreal! We talked about the places he and Harriet had visited, his love for speaking Spanish, and their gratitude for being on tour. But he also wanted to know about me—my background, my experiences, and my perspective on American life through a Hispanic lens. What a joy of a man! And to top it all off, to make things even better, David called Harriet over to meet me.

Harriet – “She” (Static and Silence – 1997)

If I hadn’t melted when David spoke to me, I definitely liquefied when Harriet joined us. David had told her how I’d been listening to their tape non-stop for an entire year. She smiled, ever so gracious, and gave me a big hug. “Thank you for your listening ears,” she wrote on my playlist, “Love, Harriet.”

Back to 1989- “My Finest Hour” (Reading, writing and Arithmetic- 1990)

I first discovered The Sundays in 1989. I had just managed to convince my father to give me some money, so after school that day, I wandered down to Bayside for my usual afternoon stroll. Naturally, I ended up at the record store. As I browsed through the tapes, I came across one with a grey and black cover featuring fossils. The band was called The Sundays, and the album was titled Reading, Writing and Arithmetic. I didn’t know who they were or what they sounded like, but I liked the cover and decided to buy it.

Back to 1989 – “My Finest Hour” (Reading, Writing and Arithmetic – 1990)

And so began my love affair with The Sundays. Like many great bands, they started in Manchester, England, with vocalist Harriet Wheeler and guitarist David Gavurin. They met at Bristol University and began writing songs. In 1988, they were invited to perform at the “Vertigo Club” in Camden, London, which marked their first live performance. They added drummer Patrick Hannan and bassist Paul Brindley to complete the lineup. The Sundays were born.

A year later, they released Reading, Writing and Arithmetic. Though the album received critical acclaim, the band went on hiatus shortly after. It would be three long years before they released anything new.

Hiatus – “Goodbye” (Blind – 1992)

In 1992, The Sundays released Blind, their second album. This record showed a more mature, adventurous side of the band and was met with great success, earning a gold sales certification and broad international recognition. However, despite the accolades, Harriet and David decided to retreat from the public eye and focus on their personal lives. During this time, they married and had their first daughter, Billie. The band’s third album would not be released until five years later.

I Miss You… “So Much” (Static and Silence – 1997)

The year was 1997, and I was shopping at Media Play when I heard Harriet’s unmistakable voice over the store speakers. The melody was unfamiliar, so I initially thought it was some other singer trying to replicate her sound. But then I realized it was her. After asking around, I learned that The Sundays had released a new album, Static and Silence, and the song playing was the single “When I’m Thinking About You.” Months later, I found myself in the front row, witnessing them perform live.

“What Do You Think?” (Blind – 1992)

Will they ever return? It’s been almost 10 years since Static and Silence, and there’s still no indication that The Sundays will ever make new music. Still, I know one thing for sure: The Sundays will always be my favorite band. Their music will forever resonate within my heart.

To you, Harriet, David, Paul, and Patrick—wherever you are, I love you.

(It’s 2019, and I still miss you.)

Update: Revisiting 18 years later (2025) and I still miss you.