Crossing the Pond: Lola Colt

Something wicked this way comes, my friends, and I'm not just whistlin' Shakespeare when I say that. From the great sprawling smoke of London comes Lola Colt, a juggernaut of beautiful, fearful tremors of irresistably seductive sonic witchery. 

Everything that I've heard from this band is impeccable, from vocals that undulate with the guile of an underlying, undeniable sexy smokiness to that perfectly gritty, bluesy muddle of noise that finds itself hovering somewhere between the underworld of an after-hours bar and the unbearable lightness of being in the middle of a spooky, spooked midnight desert. Lola Colt's songs crackle with an electric provocation you won't often find in a fairly new band. The pair of songs currently on offer are nothing short of bewitching, and certainly not for the ears of nice young girls and boys.

I love this band, and I sincerely hope you'll share the sentiment. Remember their name, as I suspect this won't be the last you'll hear of them.    


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