There always has been and there always will be. There is good rock and there is bad rock and there is middling rock. Rock music does not require salvation, from itself or any other agent. (This was a big thing around 2000 – Radiohead had just confused the shit out of everybody by not really following OK Computer with anything similar.) Expectations were piled on, many from outside the band’s comfortable circles, and Deftones were projected to be the next band tasked with saving rock music from itself. For some reason, when the stars aligned and the Sacramento boys conjured forth “Digital Bath,” “Elite,” “Teenager,” “Knife Prty,” “Passenger,” “Change” and “Pink Maggit,” the band got labeled as something special (rightly so) and took on a ship-sinking load of hangers-on (disturbingly so). Pre- White Pony efforts also fell into this category. Beginning to end, Deftones is a heated, satisfying set of (mostly) heavy songs that hang on to White Pony’s high sound quality while laying down the hard rock hammer.įact is, Deftones is the sound of a rock band making a rock record.
Not that I’m here to point nasty fingers at other Deftones recordings – I’m in love with most of the band’s lengthening catalog – but let’s straighten out our priorities.
Well, maybe not you, but anyone who slags the self-titled Deftones record, that follow-up to your oh-so-darling White Pony, and instead reaches for next-in-the-queue Saturday Night Wrist… Such a person truly exhibits taste that should be swimming with the latrine wildlife. (Clearly this is the Real Mature Edition of JYST.)
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