Trapped in the Pentagram

“The Bishop’s lips around my cock… spit on the priest, shit on the feast… the-" Oh, er, sorry, didn’t see you come in. No, aha ha ha, I’m not telling you about my plans for the weekend, hoho, I’m just singing along with Spite on their new EP, Trapped in the Pentagram!

A familiar template here, then: a two-piece (from New York), with a back catalogue of about three songs across a couple of splits and demos, now releasing their first EP. The sound is traditionalist. The delivery is fast and loose, almost rock and roll at times, but this is nothing like Midnight or Chapel, because the riffs are as black and inhospitable as can be. There are only two songs. The title track reels off a spindly riff, very A Blaze in the Northern Sky, and all that, and the overall band sound is thin and ghastly-pale. A fine opening uuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAACK! gives it a touch of charisma, and the fact that it actually has a proper chorus (“Trapped! in the Pentagram! Trapped! in the Pentagram! Trapped! in the Pentagram! !Trapped! In the Pentagram! WAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”) is nice.

Then there’s Desecration Rites (a rerecording of an older track I believe). The funny but unusually-decipherable vocals (featuring the lyrical gems with which I began the review) are given a wacky 80s thrash feel by Malebolge’s penchant for unexpectedly leaping up several octaves into a puncturing squeak mid syllable. The riffing is sharp and hook laden throughout. Very nice. Now if you’ll excuse me.