Mr. Osterberg is, sad to report, sorta just another old rock star who should put a shirt on and maybe finally rest on the ruins of his fucking laurels.
Stompbox guitars, Deftones vocals, and a touch of emo-ness that’s original enough to set them apart from every other pierce-heavy, dreadlocked-gangsta pimp.
Reminding us how easy it is to write halfway decent Ramones-inspired songs, Huntingtons do a good job at being thoroughly enjoyable, yet utter unmemorable.