Forget 'lock up your daughters' tonight it's more like 'drop off your daughters (and sons) and pick them up a couple of hours later'. US rock is in the house and the kids are out in force.
Linkin Park arrive to a rapturous reception that seems to surprise even them. This is the 'more commercial' end of the nu metal spectrum i.e. it's pop music. Melodic metal that your parents wouldn't object to.
The 'Park are squeaky clean but what they do, they do very well. 'With You' kicks off proceedings and they rattle through their infectious 'Hybrid Theory' album barely pausing for breath. Duel vocalists Chester and Mike are a highly accomplished double act although the guitar gets hopelessly buried in the mix. The group's vibe is undeniably captivating but you sense that tonight they are grounded in first gear. Expect a lot more.
The deftones on the other hand are the Real McCoy and no mistaking it. Flamboyance-free, no masks of make-up and not a baseball cap or chainsaw in sight. Forget any preconceptions about the latest craze from the States because unlike Messrs Durst and Manson, the deftones are most certainly '4 Real'.
Twelve thousand T-shirt clad minors are crammed into this lifeless arena to pay homage to one man, deftones mouthpiece Chino Moreno.
Currently undisputed champion of metal frontmen, Moreno's every move and gut-wrenching roar is worshipped. The kids hang on his every scream as his frame violently contorts with each brutal machine-gun riff and beat. He spends the majority of the set either perched on a 'podium' surveying his disciples or bent double in hellish rage spitting out lyrics with frightening venom.
Moreno and his cohorts whip the crowd up into a sweaty frenzy instantly and grip them with set drawing largely from their latest album, 'White Pony'. 'Digital Bath' and 'Engine No.9' stand out while 'Change (In The House Of Flies)' is simply immense. This haunting Smashing Pumpkins-esque epic may be a compromise and the most accessible that the deftones get but Chino's eerie whispered vocals ('blow me away') and the guitar barrage is mesmerising stuff.
'My Own Summer (Shove It)' prompts mayhem in the crowd. The show is halted as stragglers are scrapped up of the deck and Moreno proclaims 'fuck crowdsurfing'. Another roar goes up from the pit.
Aside from this outburst, the 'tones let the music do the talking. There are no cheesy rants or paper-thin preaching from Moreno who keeps stage banter to a minimum (although at one point he surreally starts citing the lyrics to The Smiths' 'Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others').
The deftones live, as on record, are sinister, dark and in parts deeply disturbing. At best they are simply a colossal force. At worst... well that's irrelevant for the moment. Tonight the deftones are head and shoulders above the competition. They sound like nothing on the planet. The 'White Pony' gallops on.
