From 1998's Spread It All Around. By 1998 anyone who listened to "alternative rock" had their bullshit detector wound tight to flash NO NO NO if they were offered a UK guitar band who were "sort of grunge, but not really". But this Scottish single deserved better (if not the rest of the album--I couldn't get into it). The guitars sound like shoegazer guitars to me, only with too many notes in the main riff to blend in on a My Bloody Valentine record; singer Hugh Duggie has an initial twinkle-eyed cool that gives way to moments of Eddie Vedder snarl on low notes and little-kid glee on high notes, all without actually sounding versatile or anything. He's just this guy, and for four minutes he is WINNING AT LIFE.
Which is the real reason this song is not plausibly marketable as grunge: it screams and grinds a little, but it kind of makes me want to hit a home run and then eat ice cream.