In “Alice,” Gunros confidently steps into the limelight with a premiere that’s both familiar and newly charged with feeling. The track is an expansive sprawl, a late-night drive through illuminated city streets brooding at first but slowly putting out feelers of something warm and rhythmic, quietly heartening.
“Alice” is distinguished by its meticulously constructed atmosphere. Textured guitars set the tone, creating a dark undercurrent that is neither overbearing nor inviting. And there’s a tension that grows from page to page, not through what is excessive but through what is restrained. Every ingredient in the mix feels purposeful, leaving this track room to breathe while propelling it forward with a trance-inducing groove.
“Alice” is dance music with a bright vibe and sturdy 80s construction. The spirit of that era reverberates throughout, tangletipped production and melodic self-assurance reflecting a time when pop and dance music were equally openhearted but still hooky as hell. Pulling from the clean, catchy songwriting aesthetics commonly associated with Max Martin, the track rides the line between metered pop and thoughtful meditations, appropriate for both a night out or in.
The singing is worth mentioning immediately. It’s sweet but measured, and carries a tender openness that feels beautifully juxtaposed with the song’s rhythmic push. The vocal gives that invitation rather than demanding it, and the emotional pull is cemented without shattering the song’s calm composure.
“Alice” feels like a moment of arrival for Gunros, a cut that knows the power of subtlety but isn’t shy about exerting energy. It’s a song that visits, then doesn’t leave after it’s gone, softly glowing with memories, movement, and a feeling of release that looks hopeful.