The walk into\u00a0Qudos Bank Arena\u00a0is carried by a clear sense of excitement tonight, the Deftones have returned to Australia after nearly a decade away. <\/p>\n
Ecca Vandal\u00a0opens with a set that refuses to sit still. She moves between punk abrasion, hip-hop cadence and something more fluid without signalling the shifts, her voice snapping one moment and stretching the next. Her set lands with particular force, she\u2019s just played Coachella there\u2019s a sense she\u2019s building a world rather than just performing songs, each track adding another layer of colour and volatility.<\/p>\n
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Interpol\u00a0follow with something more controlled. Their set leans into that clipped, nocturnal pulse they\u2019ve carried since the early 2000s, guitars interlocking with mechanical clarity while\u00a0Paul Banks\u00a0delivers vocals that hover between detachment and urgency. <\/p>\n
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When Deftones arrive,\u00a0Chino Moreno\u00a0bursts onstage in a sharp black suit, cutting a stark silhouette against the opening wash of light. From the first moments, there\u2019s a sense of being submerged and yet emerging at the same time. \u2018Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)\u2019 doesn\u2019t just open the set, it pulls the entire arena under.<\/p>\n
That feeling deepens as the visuals begin to take hold. During \u2018milk of the madonna\u2019, the screens flicker with something both disturbing and strangely hypnotic, you feel helpless like you have to submit rather than resist. It\u2019s spectacular without ever feeling safe.<\/p>\n
There is very little banter talking between songs. \u2018Digital Bath\u2019 and \u2018Feiticeira\u2019 ebb and flow, while \u2018Swerve City\u2019 cuts through with urgency. \u2018Around the Fur\u2019 detonates something more physical in the crowd, a circle pit opening up as bodies surge and a stray bottles and items of clothing arc through the air, briefly catching the light before disappearing back into the mass.<\/p>\n
There\u2019s a strange dichotomy in the crowd. Most people are dressed in black, goth-like clothing, but pockets of fans react with a kind of unrestrained energy, screaming and throwing themselves into the moment in a way that you\u2019d expect at a pop concert.<\/p>\n
The band is tight and focused. Stephen Carpenter\u00a0anchors the low-end weight, while\u00a0Abe Cunningham\u00a0keeps everything fluid, never letting the heaviness calcify.\u00a0Frank Delgado\u00a0threads atmosphere through the gaps, giving the set its sense of depth.<\/p>\n
Moreno drifts between roles. During \u2018Sextape\u2019, he takes on guitar duties, folding himself into the band\u2019s texture. By \u2018Rocket Skates\u2019, all restraint is gone, the mic swinging wildly in his hand as he moves across the stage with restless energy. In the crowd, it mirrors back. A guy near me is wildly playing air guitar and then moves into full air drumming, lost completely in the momentum.<\/p>\n
\u2018Change (In the House of Flies)\u2019 lands like a collective exhale. The arena is bathed in red, thousands of phones lighting up as people scream the lyrics at each other. It\u2019s less about watching now, more about participation, the boundary between performer and audience dissolving. Around this late stretch, the newer material leans further into unease, with \u2018departing the body\u2019 accompanied by Lynchian imagery of a woman suspended in water, her state unresolved. Is she alive? Dead? Somewhere in between? It mirrors the sensation in the room, submerged and surfacing at the same time.<\/p>\n
What runs through the entire set is a sense of contradiction held in place. The music speaks to decay and evolution at once, something corroding while something else forms underneath it. The visuals lean into the grotesque, but the response isn\u2019t rejection. It\u2019s submission. You feel a willingness to sit inside it, to let it wash over you rather than push back.<\/p>\n
By the time the encore hits, with \u2018Cherry Waves\u2019 drifting before \u2018My Own Summer (Shove It)\u2019 and \u20187 Words\u2019 close things out, the room feels altered. Not just louder or more chaotic, but recalibrated.<\/p>\n
Outside, the air feels thinner again, but inside, for a couple of hours, it felt like total immersion in something rare, the kind of show that pulls you under and leaves you better for it when you come back up.<\/p>\n
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Images Deb Pelser<\/a><\/p>\n Like this:<\/p>\n Like Loading…<\/p>\n