The Zoltars hail from Austin and are a four piece that play sensitive, bedroom garage pop. Their sophomore album, Walking Through The Dark was released late last year and is a slice of contemplative distorted pop that through a minimalistic, musical approach coupled with simple, yet suggestive lyrics creates a beautifully awkward tension.
Here In My Room, the album’s opener is like a self imposed prison stay, that you easily can get out of if you just pushed the door open. It’s springtime, it’s been raining incessantly for the past few weeks and you keep delaying a trip because you check the weather forecast every evening and it spells rain for the following day. Come today, you look out and realize you can’t take being inside anymore, you pick up your feet and go outside, it’s still raining but you don’t care. You walk past the office block, past the residential lots, past the sports stadium, past the suburbs, and into the country. Suddenly you look up and realize that the rain is gone and take off your coat and hang it on a tree around which birds are chirping. The sun breaks through the clouds and starts to shine, you start smiling and walk towards a lonely pic-nic that’s waiting for you to begin.