Best New Music: Arctic Shelf – Swirling Derby EP

Unlike The Pothole Legacy, Cambridge’s Arctic Shelf can claim to be breaking out of the underground and setting course for open seas. Previous EP, Spagnola Sunrise Starry Mansion, literally stank of shoes that had been gazed at rather than popped in the washing machine at 40c. The band had personally stood on all releases – and it got to number 3 in the chart. Guitarist Paul Tonkinson designs and builds his own pedals, giving the band that bath bomb fizzing sound that the entire Thames Valley has gone gaga for. They’re calling it hurumphcore or shruggaze. I call it shrugcore because I can.

If you get a chance to catch Arctic Shelf live go, if only for the way singer Rory Rolando manages to make holding a microphone look pathetic. He stands there amidst the fucking noise nearly giving up, shrugging his way  towards the end of each song, whilst all around him the band do their best to stay on their feet.

There’s something nauseating about Arctic Shelf. It’s the sound. Opener Shit Zip slowly creeps along on an aggressive gorilla beat. It’s as if that Phil Collins monkey went mental during a jam with Kevin Shields – it’s ecstatic and instantly hurts your ears. The rest of the EP tails of into feedback, Rory Rolando muttering and cooing love songs over the mulch. At one point the band collectively play the same unbended note and Rolando sings a triuamphant, yeah! And then it’s all over too early. Get it before it gets stale.

Reviewed by Peter Ballast