Deftones @ 9:30
As clubgoers stood in line outside the 9:30 Club on a chilly Monday night, a car slowed and eventually came to a stop. Down came the window and two girls yelled out, "Who's playing tonight?" "The Deftones," came a response. "What do they sound like?" "They're heavy," shot back a fan.
That's about as good as you can get in describing the Deftones without getting too far into mixed genre terminology -- they're heavy. The Sacramento-based quintet came to prominence in 1994, rising alongside other nu metal acts like KoRn, Limp Bizkit, and Staind. But unlike their peers, some of whom have lost members to Jesus, succumbed to the annoying ego of their lead singer, or simply crapped out bland MTV singles on a yearly basis, the Deftones have always confounded critics and marveled audiences with a sound that alternates from heavy to atmospheric, as much Meshuggah as it is My Bloody Valentine. While guitarist Stephen Carpenter churns out heavy metallic riffs, singer Chino Moreno wails and croons in a voice more appropriate for The Cure. And though their music can sound disjointed and schizophrenic at times, it can also come together and create a musical experience like few others in the genre. (So intriguing is their music that The New Yorker recently reviewed their latest album, a first for both the magazine and the band).
When I heard they would be at 9:30 on Monday, I waffled over whether to go. On the one hand, they used to be one of my favorite bands. I fondly remember seeing them in 1998 at the Warped Tour and in 2000 at Nation, when they toured in support of Around the Fur and White Pony, respectively. Any Deftones fan will undoubtedly cite those two albums as defining in the band's career, and their live performances at the time followed suit. But with 2003's self-titled offering, the band -- rounded out by bassist Chi Cheng, drummer Abe Cunningham, and turntablist/keyboardist Frank Delgado -- somewhat lost their way, torn between side projects and clearly not sharing the writing duties as they had in the past. And given the three-year break they took before finally releasing Saturday Night Wrist this October, I had somewhat lost interest.
But I went. At best the show would remind me why I loved the band to begin with, at worst it was better than trying to choke down another episode of "Studio 60." The club was completely packed, Deftones fans clearly relishing the chance to see them for the first time in years and in a venue as intimate as 9:30 can be. As they strode on stage the crowd surged, Moreno surveying the scene from a raised platform on stage. And then they started playing.
Drawing from their entire catalog, the band energetically worked there way through songs both fast and slow. "Digital Bath" sounded dreamy while "My Own Summer (Shove It)" roared with intensity; "Shut Up and Drive" sounded almost like the Smashing Pumpkins while "Engine No. 9" drew upon the rap-rock roots of many nu metal acts. The band was energetic during "Around the Fur" and "Root" while remaining subdued during "Xerces" and "Change (In the House of Flies)." The highlight of the night came in their performance of "Minerva," a song that best balances the band's competing tendencies -- a wall of sound alternating between dissonance in the guitars and harmony in the soaring vocals.
Where individual songs provided highlights, the show as a whole seemed fractured. Songs like "Hexagram" and "Rats!Rats!Rats!" broke up otherwise satisfying blocks of songs, while "Passenger" and "Hole in the Earth" seemed half-baked and stilted. And had it not been for earplugs, I would have gone completely deaf -- the band played at a volume more appropriate for DAR Constitution Hall, effectively burying their subtleties in sheer noise.
But maybe I'm just getting old, and maybe it's been too long since I've really listed to the Deftones. The show was good, but it wasn't great. And with a band like the Deftones, getting a good show just doesn't feel right.