They might be dealing out the usual laddish, Loaded-generation cliches about being 'proper common like' and wanting to ''ave it', but The Enemy, much like Kasabian before them, are getting away with it because they're dab-hands with magnificent pop-rock tunes. Tom Clarke may look about as appetising as a bucket of vomit with a custard chaser, and his cronies may look like they should be carrying baseball bats rather than guitars, but when you're just left with their songs, they actually sound like quite decent, sweet chaps.

Sadly, the single version of this track chooses to crudely edit out the Warburton's advert brass intro, but it's still a highlight from their debut album. Clarke sings about the desperation and negative attitudes of small-town Britain, but adds a defiant and fist-pumping chorus line to perk us up during the miserable tale. The song perfectly captures why The Enemy have shot from Coventry sideshow to nationwide rockers in the space of a year. There's more to them than just boorish ladism. The band don't just paint grim tales of life up North; there's hope and optimism laced around their riffs and tub-thumping as well. We couldn't quite give it five stars because the tune's a Jam rip-off, but other than that, it's pretty ruddy excellent.