Poison Rites serve up some crazed, twoaccelerators-and-nobrakes speed rock from Denver that makes Motörhead sound like Sabbath. It’s like the Dead Boys hurtling off the tracks on a bullet train, or like a stack of NWOBHM singles melted into a ball of flaming murder and shot out of a cannon. Wear leather, rock hard, repeat until your neck breaks.
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