Let's travel back in time to 1994, where three ten-year old kids somewhere in the progressive university city of Durham, NC are smashing out original compositions and covers of local bands. A young age to start says our Shirley-Temple-O-Meter. The force may be strong in this trio.

Fast forward thirteen years to the same location, which lies halfway between the majestic Appalachian mountain range and the East Coast of the US, where the three ten-year old's we knew sport proper adult teeth, beards, laryngeal prominences and other such symbols of manliness, and are happily engaged in rediscovering the indie-rock and grunge that soundtracked their childhood.

Straight guitar, bass and drums three-piece bands often produce a fantastic raw, stripped down sound - think The Police, Motorhead, The Jam, Husker Du and appropriately here, Nirvana. And on second album Black Shark, Hammer No More The Fingers go some way to meet such expectations by proffering an abundance of loose and sustained bass, chugging rhythm, extravagant tom rolls and plenty of epic lead guitar.

What HNMTF really have going for them is a polished vocal style that sits somewhere between The Bees and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers - harmonic choruses of guitarist Joe Hall and drummer Jeff Stickley, punctuated by the soaring voice of lead singer and bassist Duncan Webster work well on tracks like 'Your Nutrition Is My Mission'. What they don't really have is the little sparkle that sets their sound apart from the best of the mid-nineties output from bands like the Foos and Candlebox.

'Atlas of an Eye' launches the album with an idea that probably works best on paper only, a kind of rock waltz, a time signature that jars with the piercing and powerful guitar riff crashing in halfway through.

Second track 'The Agency' matches lyrical flow to guitar melody while 'Shark' and 'Thunder and Rain' are both straightforward rock-by-numbers. Despite having more bounce per ounce in comparison to the rest of the album, the string arrangement and jangling bass in the last third of 'Leroy' isn't quite enough to warrant much attention.

'Steam' promises a departure via some nifty Franz Ferdinand style disco-rock drumming, hooks and a catchy chorus. Unfortunately after reverting to type, it fizzles out with a whimper.

I have to be honest. The formulaic approach to 'It's About Caring' and 'The Visitor' really only conjure up visions of Mike Patton with long hair and Kerrang! cover price increases during the late nineties for me. The last track being the final 'Fingernails' in the coffin.

In the end, HNMTF seem no more than a bunch of long time friends having fun and playing the music they love well. Hell, there is probably a good Friday night show somewhere out in The Triangle in it all too, however they lack the edge and distinction that could set them apart as the 90's post-grunge rock revivalists and successors to Nickelback's throne. Searching for a new band to soundtrack the next One Tree Hill or The OC type serial-drama that you're producing? HNMTF are the androids you're looking for.

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