If the lyrics are anything to be believed, they been a-waitin' on no-one, they done found their gold, they been buyin' their way to heaven, and - rather more cryptically - they got a bone handle on they knife. The down-and-dirty, downtrodden blues vibe runs so deeply through Tintype that you'd never guess the band were from a country with Canada's commendable standard of living.

They cite influences as diverse as Leadbelly, Janis Joplin and the MC5; but for the first half of the album the real touchstone is the White Stripes. And that's not just because there are only two of them.

Like Jack and Meg, The Pack A.D. pump out primal electric garage-inflected blues fired by free-floating guitar solos, thumping drums without embellishment or flourish, and plenty of visceral distorted yowling. Oh, and they're they only two acts I'm aware of to deliver a debut album with seventeen songs in under 50 minutes.

In the intervals where vocalist Becky Black isn't singing, much of the music sounds exactly like Detroit's finest. Whether or not they've just absorbed the same influences in a similar way is a moot point, but it's fairly safe to say that if you liked the Detroit blues revival of the early 2000s you'll be engaged, but probably not enlightened by any originality.

In the opening tracks, Black's vocals are fiery and bombastic, straining constantly at the top end of her range. Unfortunately the sustained tone of emotional racking wears quickly thin, the melodrama starts to grate, and the intended emotional force becomes underwhelming. But as the album progresses the influences widen and the tone of both music and vocals softens, much to the benefit of the listener's ears - and nerve endings.

Pilot's Blues, with its percussive Delta blues guitar, is minimalist but warm, like Robert Johnson accompanying Janis Joplin. Cabin is an expertly-delivered 12-bar blues in the John Lee Hooker style. Bang, an extended, atmospheric, tough'n'tender number like Kristin Hersh used to do so well, really benefits from taking its time. The sense of space and quiet means that when the amped-up Jack White guitar returns in the middle of the track it creates a sense of drama which is often missing elsewhere on the album.

However, aside from the obvious White Stripes comparisons, Tintype often feels like a lesson in the history of the blues, both musically and lyrically. There's little here which doesn't directly echo the Delta and Chicago bluesmen or their recent Detroit acolytes.

Not one, but two songs here open with a line about waking in the morning and being followed around all day by the blues: you get the picture. Even the sleeve art looks like the wall of Americana at a TGI Friday’s restaurant. The Pack A.D. are talented musicians with a keen and wide-ranging grasp of the blues, but they need to find a more distinctive voice before they make a real impact.

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