Do It

"Do It" is DMA'S in full Britpop-revival swagger, the Sydney trio wearing their Oasis worship without apology. Off their 2016 debut *Hills End*, the track is a jangling, fuzz-edged anthem built for festival fields — strummed guitars layered into a wall, a chorus engineered to be shouted back by a crowd, drums that march rather than dance. Tommy O'Dell's vocal is the surprise: he sings in a high, slightly nasal Mancunian-by-way-of-Newtown lilt, world-weary and yearning at once, the Australian accent sanded into something deliberately transatlantic. The lyric is loose and gestural — encouragement and resignation tangled together, "do it" functioning less as a command than a shrug toward action, the sound of someone talking themselves into living. That elliptical quality is the point; DMA'S traffic in feeling over narrative, and the words exist to carry the melody's lift. Despite the lad-rock costume, the band started as a bedroom project, and you can hear the songwriting craft under the bluster. It's a song for the back of a moving car, windows down, or the cathartic middle of a sweaty gig — built for collective singalong, nostalgic for a '90s these musicians were too young to have lived, and somehow earnest enough to make the borrowing feel like devotion.