Live review: Deftones, Glasgow OVO Hydro

You want horny? Deftones gives you horny, baby. It’s the night before Valentine’s, but Glasgow is already an orgy of sweaty, writhing flesh, from the berserkers stoking a pit even through the evening’s softer moments to the countless loved-up couples swapping saliva in the nosebleeds.

Having not ventured north of the wall for almost a decade now, tonight’s performance at the 14,000-cap OVO Hydro marks the Californian legends’ biggest-ever Scottish show. Tellingly, an even more massive one is already on sale for Edinburgh’s Royal Highland Showgrounds in August. Chino Moreno and his band are riding a wave at the moment. TikTok might have played a big part, with a substantial section of this audience not even born in the band’s original heyday.

But veteran fans who lived through that period – memories of a raucous show over at the Braehead Arena still echoing – can see this resurgence is about far more than simple virality. Like seasoned lovers, the outfit stalking the stage this evening have a confidence and maturity that’s far more effective than youthful exuberance. The relative ‘dip’ of the 2010s that saw them playing this city’s O2 Academy and Barrowlands has paid off in a deeper, richer discography. And as a massive video rig finally flickers into life, the grandstanding return feels all the sweeter for the waiting.

Drug Church open proceedings with a challenge. Aiming for 100 crowdsurfers over the barricade at 7pm might seem ambitious, but Patrick Kindlon isn’t the type to take ‘no’ for an answer. “I’ve said this each evening and it’s important, I feel,” the frontman says, with a poet’s cadence even in his between-song banter. “We are the opening band this evening, and it’s our responsibility to set the tone...” In truth, the New York punks channel neither the randiness of the headliners nor the anarchic madness of main support Denzel Curry. In terms of originality and uncompromising verve, however, they set an absurdly high standard. Dissections of the 21st century experience, Fun’s Over and Weed Pin may have been born in pokey sweatboxes but they rule the Hydro’s grand stage.

Denzel Curry whips on in a blur of edgy hip-hop, cool, with a balaclava-like snood pulled up over his head for the first section of his set. Glasgow doesn’t go in for posturing, mind, with a cracking barb murmured from the crowd: “Does he realise how much that thing looks like a foreskin?” It’s fitting, in a way, as the Florida firebrand’s 45-minute set is turgid with big dick energy. The 2000s alt. metal scene from which Deftones emerged was indebted to rap music, and it’s a fascinating to observe how the influence has come full-circle, with BLACK FLAG FREESTYLE and HIT THE FLOOR (replete with a nod to Drowning Pool) drawing tone and texture from the world of rock – and a cover of RATM’s Bulls On Parade goes down a storm. If you’re going to make a song called GOATED, both your rhymes and confidence levels need to be through the roof. Fortunately, that’s exactly what Denzel delivers.

Deftones ooze a different kind of confidence. If daring themselves not to be outdone by two of the sharpest acts in modern alternative every night didn’t make it clear that they’re revelling in this renaissance of their popularity, seeing Chino Moreno bounding through spring-loaded opener Be Quiet And Drive (Far Away) with more energy than he did when that song first came out will do the trick. That it’s one of only two songs from Around The Fur showcased in this setlist underlines their self-assured swagger, with a 10-ton rendition of Locked Club from last year’s Private Music, then a munchy Rocket Skates from 2010’s Diamond Eyes finding their mark before that album’s rollercoaster title-track careers through to get the crowd pumping.

And so we go. Digital Bath’s eerie blend of lust and fear gets beneath the skin to tremble the audience’s bones. Private Music’s My Mind Is A Mountain, Souvenir and Infinite Source sound bigger than on record, touring guitarist Lance Jackman a worthy understudy for Stef Carpenter, who continues to avoid shows outside the U.S. Brilliantly tasteful production elevates the step up into cavernous rooms like this: strip-lit risers and that colossal high-definition video display allowing them to switch between minimalist and maximalist aesthetics in the space of a single song. The slowly rising sun for Change (In The House Of Flies) is genuinely breathtaking, adding a sense of scale and occasion that no number of pyro stacks or confetti canons could hope to match.

Twenty songs slip by in the blink of an eye. Closing out the main set, Milk Of The Madonna feels like a bold choice, a band doing whatever they want regardless of the scale of the gig, but the Deftones version of a show-stopping encore underlines their qualifications to headline the major festivals that will doubtless soon come calling. Cherry Waves drags us into a pool of woozy psychedelia. My Own Summer (Shove It) thrillingly drags us right back out. Then 7 Words heads abrasively back to the beginning to spin us off into the night. That song’s pronounced nu-metal inflections thrill in their own right, but they’re also a reminder that Deftones never really were nu-metal. And although many of the bands from that genre are also having a moment right now, there’s no trading on nostalgia from Chino and the gang, just heroes still at the top of their game.

Deftones are on tour in the UK until February 20.

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