Deftones live at Crystal Palace Park, London

“They travel through the air”, sings frontman Chino Moreno, barely tethered to the stage, and for a moment, it feels like we all do. As Deftones perform beneath the open sky at Crystal Palace Park, I find myself watching them the same way I watch aircraft gliding overhead: awed, half-lost in motion. A strange, coiled elation slithers up my spine, difficult to name but impossible to shake. Fortunately, Natalia—my partner in teenage nostalgia for the day—leans in and finds the words I cannot: “This is the best summer so far”. Deftones are here to bleed atmosphere, and tonight it spills over everything and everyone, to the point where I find myself wondering if passengers above can sense our collective pulse.

It’s not even midday and I’ve already suffered two heatstrokes on the Tube. As the train pulls into Crystal Palace, it becomes apparent I’ve missed the dress code memo: with no fishnet tights and no eyeliner, I’m probably giving strong ‘accidental nu-metal mum just here to supervise’ energy. Hardly any credibility. What throws me, though, is the crowd itself. I’d mentally prepared for a sea of thirty- and forty-somethings in search of their best White Pony memories, but no. The youth are (also) here, and they are as stylish as they are committed. I had wrongfully assumed Deftones were the soundtrack to my generation’s angst, yet here I was, happily proven wrong not two steps out of the station. Their influence stretches beyond age brackets, but I will leave that musing dangling for now. If the kids are screaming along to ‘My Own Summer’, maybe the future is not totally doomed—just a bit more moody.  

After cancelling their Glastonbury set two hours before showtime, London was holding its breath. The air at Crystal Palace is thick; a heady fog of sweat, sunscreen, and unspoken anxiety relentlessly clings to the skin. The heat is punishing, and it makes us strangers stick together in all the wrong places whilst we exchange more body moisture than words. Still, no news is good news, and as the sun dips behind the treeline, Deftones emerge on stage. We erupt.

Minds and bodies begin to melt in tandem.

As soon as the first chord pierces through the heat, it becomes obvious this performance is air-tight. Chino Moreno seems to draw his energy from every soul in the crowd, only to hurl it back at us tenfold and electrified. For nineteen songs spanning the entirety of their discography (sans Gore), the band hardly pause for air. This is the dream setlist: big hits, deep cuts, zero filler. I caught wind of grumbles about the sound quality, but from where I was standing, it was nothing short of glorious. And then the drums carried the show like an intrinsic undercurrent. Each kick and snare rattled the bones, commanding attention without overwhelming.

The classic moments of dissonance hit hard, riffs crashing against dreamy melodies like waves slamming into a cliff. It is as chaotic as it is cathartic (go on, find me a review that doesn’t mention that word), with ethereal (this one, too) melodies drifting in and out of gritty guitar textures, and suddenly I find myself deep in my head, only to snap out of it mid-chorus, belting lyrics at the sky with everyone else. Despite the heat, my skin hummed with goosebumps during every song. I glanced sideways and caught the person next to me doing the same: eyes wide, arms prickling, body swaying. I’ll never not be mesmerised by the way live music can short-circuit the body before our brains even register what is happening. This internal/external tension is exactly what makes Deftones such an arresting live band. You simply cannot manufacture this kind of mood in your bedroom (or maybe, maybe one can, and that’s their entire appeal. Ahem). They conjure something raw and almost uncomfortable, and their magic often lies in the sonic balance between tenderness, noise, harmony, and havoc.

The crowd, too, was a thing of beauty. Gentle, joyful, utterly present, like a mosh pit in the living room with friends rather than a full-on frenzy. Somehow, I found this quieter than my typical indoor gig, as if we all knew this was a moment to lean into. The silence between screams held a curious type of reverence, the kind usually reserved for churches and/or bedrooms. As I slowly make my way towards the exit, I can almost hear a slow, communal exhale from a crowd that looks as cracked open as I feel. I leave the park euphoric, skin still tingling, heart a touch lighter. The night feels cooler now. Or maybe that’s just the sheer power of good music, altering the weather system inside you.

A bit of sonic foreplay

Opening for Deftones was a lineup that may not have shared the same sonic DNA, but they sure spoke a similar emotional language. Qendresa kicked things off with velvety R&B vocals and basslines so groovy they had hips swaying and heads nodding before we’d had our second overpriced pint. This was a warm, honeyed welcome groove that set everything in motion with style and charm.

Then came HEALTH, dropping a slab of thunderous industrial textures that turned the park into a movie set, with smoke, shadows and unresolved traumas taking centre stage. Somehow, despite the turmoil, the hazy vocals landed like a confession between close friends, and I am once again left feeling that they would ruin me if I were to see them in a more intimate setting.

Hi Vis followed with raw, post punk vibes and working-class heart, stitching a sense of community and camaraderie into the audience, and setting the emotional tone for what would become one of the friendliest, most sweet natured mosh pits I have come across. And then, of course, we had Weezer, delivering their pure alt-rock nostalgia feel-good juice. Cue a full-on crowd karaoke session to “Island in the Sun” and “Buddy Holly”, the kind of moment where you somehow end up on a stranger’s back and don’t even question it. This was the perfect sugar rush before the slow emotional dismantling and existential crash that followed. Serenity now.