Seems like Ghost (or Ghost BC, as the lawyers like to call them now) has made a deal with the Devil. They got a major advance for their sophomore album – $750,000 buys a lot of face-paint and incense. You can hear it in the production and atmosphere, as thick and as decadent as blood poured on tits in black velvet. You’ll see it on their current world tour, sure to feature an even more impressive stage show than last year’s theatrical, fog-shrouded seances. And you’ll know it’s worked when the band has finally made the climb from the metal underground to the racks at Hot Topic.

And I’m happy for their success. I loved Opus Eponymous and its saccharine, satanic retro-occult shtick (which one reviewer brilliantly termed as “Scooby-Doom”). Yet something didn’t turn out quite right on Infestissumam. It sounds fantastic, and it brings in new elements like ABBA worship and surf rock shimmy, but for Pinhead’s sake, where are all the hooks?

“Ritual” was a perfectly subversive pop song, a shot of devilish glee (and viral-savvy success) that combined churchyard organs and doomy riffs with deliciously blasphemous lyrics. Most of all, it had an insidiously singalong chorus that wormed its way into your brain and pulsed there like a parasite. First single “Secular Haze,” by comparison, features creepy carnival organs with a lurching rhythm, but the chorus is as lifeless as a corpse in a failed, well, ritual. That’s a real sin, especially for a pop song. (Loved the ’60s Top of the Pops-style video though.) “Per Aspera ad Inferi” has the same problem – the verses are a pounding Gothic dirge, but the chorus is all crescendo, no climax. It’s a relentless serial-killer chase that somehow never catches its quarry. At least “Secular Haze” and “Per Aspera” sound like eerie ear-candy; “Body and Blood” and “Idolatrine” abandon the sardonic, minor-key menace that made Opus Eponymous so memorable. If “Ritual” was a sugar skull filled with bile, then these two songs are little more than Halloween cookies.

Onto the good stuff: the remaining five tracks on Infestissumam are closer to ‘Goddamn!’ than ‘Fail Satan’. “Year Zero” is the real standout here – a thundering, tell-tale heartbeat complete with Gregorian vocals, Grand Guignol organs and a soaring and dramatic chorus. With its anthemic chant of “Asmodeus, Satanas, Lucifer,” it’s “Year Zero,” and not “Secular Haze,” that should be freaking out parents across the country as their kids don T-shirts emblazoned with the death’s-head grin of Papa Emeritus II. “Ghuleh/Zombie Queen” is the other campy album highlight, and strands David Bowie, Dick Dale and ABBA on a deserted island with the Horror of Party Beach. It’s really two songs in one – the first half a piano-driven croon, and the second a psychedelic surf rock shamble. Another great chorus too, especially with the wild organs echoing in the background. “Jigolo Har Megiddo” is a gloomy, organ-grinder Beach Boys tune with burlesque-swagger drums and a creepy-cool falsetto during the solo/bridge. The album closes with two solid spook-rockers, “Depth of Satan’s Eyes” and “Monstrance Clock.” Both feature the sinister lyrics and hooky melodies that made tracks like “Elizabeth,” “Death Knell” or “Stand By Him” so much fun on the debut.

There are also two bonus tracks if you get the deluxe version of Infestissumam – “La Mantra Mori,” an understated and atmospheric ballad, and an off-kilter cover of ABBA‘s “I’m a Marionette,” a song which was already kooky and theatrical to begin with. Ghost‘s version just makes it a bit creepier, but it’s nowhere near as inspired as the brilliant, dark transformation of The Beatles‘ “Here Comes the Sun” from Opus Eponymous.

Remember what Mia Farrow said at the end of Rosemary’s Baby when she sees baby Andy (Christ) for the first time? He’s a perfectly formed little baby, all pink and warm and full of promise, but his eyes! “What have you done to it? What have you done to its eyes?” Infestissumam is unholy, but it’s also uneven. Despite the superior production, atmosphere and overall listenability, it should have been bristling with better hooks – especially given the band’s subversive pop ambitions. The Nameless Ghouls have plunged their gilded dagger into the mainstream, but they slice an artery when they could have punctured the heart.

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