How's It Going to Be

There's a particular grief that lives in the recognition that something is already over even while it's technically still happening, and "How's It Going to Be" captures that feeling with uncomfortable precision. The song is built on a guitar melody that circles back on itself like a thought you can't stop having, and the production has a slightly chilly quality — not cold exactly, but distanced, as if everything is being observed through glass. Jenkins sings with an aching clarity here, his voice carrying none of the manic edge of the band's more urgent material. The tempo sits at a pace that feels like the last slow dance before someone leaves — measured, deliberate, saturated with the awareness of an ending. The lyrics circle around the moment after a relationship fractures, asking questions that have no good answers and cataloguing all the small futures that will never happen. There's a bridge that opens into something almost spacious before contracting back into the verse's tighter emotional register, which mirrors exactly how grief works: those brief moments where you almost forget, then the closing back in. This is the song for sitting in a car outside a place you used to share with someone, unable to go in or drive away. It belongs to the transitional space of the late 90s, when alternative rock had learned to make emotional precision sound effortless — a breakup song that resists sentimentality by being too honest to indulge it.