Why We’re All Still Obsessed with Deftones

Formed in Sacramento, California, in the late ‘80s, Deftones began gaining more commercial recognition and success in the late ‘90s, with the release of Around the Fur (1997) and White Pony (2000). While much of their sound unequivocally falls on the metal spectrum—heavy, distorted guitar, throat-hoarse vocals—the band distanced themselves from the stereotypes of nu metal in favor of a more experimental approach. The result is a sound that is as much metal as it is melodic; it’s heavy and visceral, but generally avoids macho-coded signifiers (typically a predominant theme, along with whiteness in the metal and hardcore scenes) by virtue of lead singer Chino Moreno’s at times softer vocals and lyrics, and his outspoken reverence for Sade. (The band covers “No Ordinary Love” on a compilation album.) Deftones makes metal that’s unafraid of vulnerability, even tenderness. And maybe it’s this softer edge that gives them more universal appeal.

It makes sense that Deftones find themselves consistently relevant to whatever generation is coming of age. While many see them as Y2K-adjacent, thanks to White Pony, their most commercially successful (and ostensibly “softest”) record, the band has been writing, experimenting, and recording music consistently since. This intergenerational appeal aligns itself with the ethos of Heaven by Marc Jacobs, which acts as a kind of “freaky utopian bridge between Generations X, Millennial, and Z,” wrote Eileen Cartter for GQ, “a potent symbol of [its] mission towards intergenerational nostalgia.”

In late February, Heaven by Marc Jacobs made a carousel post on Instagram of the neverending “cloutbombing” couch. On closer inspection, some of the models, which included Kiko Mizuhara, Ian Isaiah, Sandy Liang, Aleali May, Anna Sui, Mel Ottenberg, and Marc Jacobs himself, were wearing what looked like Deftones merch—the caption teased a new Heaven season coming March 3. The next day, the Heaven x Stray Rats x Deftones collab was announced, featuring “Shove It” chokers and mesh Around the Fur jerseys.

“I think the opportunity to work with a band that Ava [Nirui] and I love is the inspiration alone,” says Julian Consuegra, founder of Stray Rats. “Our part is to elevate traditional band merch without going too out of bounds.” The capsule release included an exhibit of Deftones rarities and other paraphernalia at the Heaven store in LA, as well as a free Deftones concert in Brooklyn at Music Hall of Williamsburg. The latter—seeing your favorite band in an intimate venue—is any long-standing fan’s dream.

But in an age of oversaturation, severely limited attention spans, and TikTok, there’s almost always skepticism around whatever forces are inspiring younger generations to flock toward something old, and the Deftones fascination is no exception. It’s 2023 and we should all be able to like what we like, but the criticism is valid when taste has become so easily dictated by algorithms rather than lived experiences. The Deftones’ Grammy-winning song, “Elite,” almost certainly isn’t responsible for captivating Gen Z. Instead, nightcore remixes of songs like “Cherry Waves,” “Change (in the House of Flies),” and “Be Quiet and Drive” can be found soundtracking countless TikTok “get ready with me” or “before/during/after” videos made by users desperate to score their lives in a meaningful way. It’s the Gen Z equivalent of the millennial penchant for lip-synching into a hairbrush or dancing in a mirror alone, except in this iteration you have an audience—one that can engage with you and your content, repurpose it, or embed it into a video of their own. Eschewing their original heaviness of metal, these sped-up songs operate as gateways to the louder oeuvre that might not otherwise have the same pull as the originals.

Consuegra agrees there’s some validity to this theory, “but it goes further than Gen Z and social media.” In a way, the band has crystallized a millennium spirit and aesthetic, “as writers both musically and lyrically, as live performers, in the way they present themselves visually (great chiller-sacto-skate-punk-rocker style), by being active and releasing good music consistently, and never falling into any weird traps. That all leads to something that lasts the test of time.” Deftones haven’t succumbed to gimmicks or exhausted themselves trying to fit into cookie-cutter expectations of what metal should be. “They helped construct the era, and I think younger people can see that.” Similarly to a post-9/11 collective obsession with pop-punk, it seems natural that post-pandemic more people are inclined to assuage angst with something a little heavier, be that through what they’re listening to or wearing.

On March 2 of this year, Deftones played “Mascara” for the first time since 2015, to the crowd at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. While some of us might be rolling our eyes at the upswing of White Pony tattoos in our feeds, nostalgic marketing has its merits—it benefits all fans.

“It’s not specific to one age group or person at these shows, it’s a multitude of rockers and scenes who all have their own very personal experience with the music,” says Consuegra. If there’s one thing Deftones does consistently, it’s maintain relevance through evolution and experimentation. “Change (in the House of Flies),” the band’s most recognizable single and released in 2000, still hits 23 years later. The title alone is at the forefront of our current cultural lexicon, alongside wellness rhetoric, discourse on impermanence, and self-help books preaching detachment how-tos. Fair-weather fans may come and go, but Deftones will forever transcend the trend cycle.