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. Men