Hailing from Paris, France and sporting one of the daftest monikers since a group of Minneapolis natives decided to call themselves Anal Blast, Darkness Dynamite sound like a ragged quilt of Fear Factory, Machine Head, Pantera and every other en vogue act from the early to mid-Nineties that you'd care to mention. Their debut is draped in a slick production sheen that smacks of a halfway decent recording budget, and on "Hell Eve Hate" they almost convince us that there's more to them than overblown marketing bluster. That feeling evaporates like a fart in the wind in the face of the nine tepid attempts to rock out that proceed it. Darkness Dynamite aren't clever, miles off being original and about as unthreatening as Paris Hilton's pet Chihuahua.