So there’s this band from Seattle called The Hands, and their new record (self-titled on Selector Sound) has some of the ickiest album art I’ve seen in years.  It’s all teal and rust and it’s a painting of bloody, finger-stubs rubbing against a cheese grater (see above).  Gross-out city.

Because of this unfortunate creative decision, I unintentionally gave them a 2 week, time-out before conceding to a listen.   Verdict: Rolling Stones-ish garage rock on a date with Blur.  Fine retro renderings put in modern context.
 

Which is all good, except that it lacks an x-factor of production beefiness, and winds up sounding a little, er, thin?  The album itself is not quite shiny enough to glorious, and conversely, not quite dirty enough to be dangerous. 

However, the rock ‘n’ roll mythos kicks through successfully and leads you to believe they put on a fiercely respectable live show.