Alright

There's a giddy, almost uncontainable energy to this song — like someone bottled a summer afternoon and punctured it all at once. The guitars are bright and slightly crunchy, riding a rhythm that tilts forward constantly, never quite settling. The drumming has a loose, almost tumbling quality, as if barely keeping up with the momentum. What makes it distinctive is how young it sounds without being naive: the harmonies have a Beatles-ish sweetness, but the delivery is scruffier, more wide-eyed than polished. The vocals feel like they're grinning, practically breathless, carrying a lyric about the simple intoxication of being alive and young and free with zero irony. There's no darkness hiding behind the joy here — it's genuinely exuberant, which in the mid-nineties Britpop landscape was almost a radical act amid all that studied cool. The production keeps things lean and punchy, just enough reverb to feel alive. You reach for this one when the weather suddenly turns good and you want something that matches the feeling without overthinking it — windows down, the day still stretching ahead.