Just when you thought all the sub-genres in the universe had been exhausted, along comes Zebracore. Needless to say, this is presumably a joke term conjured up by Isle Of Man act, Postcode, although given the fixation with the black and white striped mammal throughout the cover art, album and song titles, you’d be forgiven for thinking the branding has gone to their heads. In reality, though, their music is relatively straightforward and nostalgic for a time when British indie ruled the airwaves.
‘Yggdrasil’ begins with duelling jangly guitars and Marie Reynolds’s cool, cooing vocals will possibly win favour with lovers of any number of 1990’s female-fronted indie bands. The lengthy ‘At Last’ moves amicably enough between mid-paced fare and rousing anthemic rock. There’s more emphasis on acoustic guitar for the pleasant, gently seductive ‘Blue Fluff’ but the EP refuses to catch fire until the end. That moment occurs on a classy ‘Letting Go’, which has a similar lilting feel to ‘Blue Fluff’ but the fuller arrangement and wistful melancholy are wonderfully judged. They finish with a flourish too, thanks to the grungy, visceral ‘Boardwalk’; an energising song tailor made for closing out a live gig and an indicator of what is to come on the harder-edged ‘Part Two’.
One can imagine Postcode being signed to Kitchenware Records if they existed twenty years ago and they certainly bear a strong resemblance to Hug from that same label. Overall, ‘Year Of The Zebra – Part One’ is solid – if rather dated – indie rock fare but the ending to the EP certainly suggests they have special songs in them. Those seeking more darker, psychedelic adventures, however, should check out the more recent ‘Part Two’.