Volt is three people. A trio crackling with sensual energy and electrode power. The power to fend off the lackadaisical proto-whatever musical conventions feeding the grist mill that is your record collection. The power to easily slip off the confining clothing of genre and wring sex-soaked songs out of them. Volt music is unlike any music you’ve heard before.
Their songs blast categorization out of the heavens like the lame-duck that it is. Songs that flirt and lure you on to the sweaty, smoke-filled Parisian dance-floor abyss. Songs that drip with danger and lust. Industrial strength beats. Brooding synthesizers. Buzzsaw guitars that cut off your feet as you attempt to dance. Promiscuous voices playfully taunting you. Poking at the seedy underside of life and relationships. Twisting knives and knobs into the over-exposed and bloated belly of music moderne. Revolt on twelve black vinyl inches.
They write songs about couples. Songs about fucking. Romance. Sexual frustration. Dogs barking. Unrequited love. Mental paralysis. Warmer than Cold Wave and colder than your beating heart. Volt has finally arrived to give you that big black eye and French kiss for which you’ve always been yearning. You wanted it, you got it.