Deftones ­ White Pony
1 out of 5
³My Little Pony²
With their third outing, White Pony, Sacramento based band the Deftones are a lot like their Bizkit pal, Fred Durst. They both know how to keep it real. Real dumb.
³My Little Pony² wouldıve been a more apt title choice, as the band has pansied out of making anything remotely resembling the heavy grooves that marked their previous two releases. Having lowered the din of yesteryear, theyıve also effectively eliminated the possibility of having any songs possessing the charm, heaviness, and hooks of Around the Furıs two hits ³My Own Summer (Shove It) and ³Be Quiet and Drive². There are no real singles to be found here, the softer tunes are a big drag, (see ³Teenager²) and sound like your favorite boy band, and the heavy end makes Limp Bizkit sound like Meshuggah.
Rather than building on their Radiohead cum Tool cum The Cure amalgam that they've always hinted at, they continue to come off as Bizkit-lite, if that's even possible. This also seems to be their only consistency. This is most evident on the repetitive diet-Bizkit ripoff "Elite" with ridiculous robotic vocal tactics as the cherry to top it all off with. The boys should use a little tact, White Ponyıs vulgar lyrical antics dare to outdo Mr. Durstıs primate nature. This idolatry for Mr. Durst is also found in the wannabe hip-hop beat laden ballad "Teenager", and that infamous bad boy posturing in "Pink Maggit", complete with cliched incoherent ramblings about "going back to school". That can be said for most of the album's tracks, making for one of the top five most lackluster listens of the year, right next to Spears and Co. When they effectively create soundscapes that mirror their intent in the first place, things get mildly interesting. "RX Queen" is where this is best exemplified, but is weighed down by frontman Chino Moreno's aimless crooning, ultimately ending up sounding like third rate Depeche Mode lite. While thatıs better than third rate Third Eye Blind, most of the album isnıt. The midtempo drudgery of ³Knife Prty² (the boys certainly wonıt win a spelling bee) drags on with the same endless, aimless crooning until a quasi-dance section kicks in with the most horrifying female vocals this side of P.J. Harvey, making for a laughable listen. Of some of the other lamest moments, thereıs ³Street Carp² or Street ³Crap² which laments over forgetting your own address. The 2 minutes and 40 seconds of it will make anyone feel like taking a ³Crap² on the CD and setting it ablaze amidst oncoming rush hour traffic, or at least flushing it down the commode. If frontman Moreno could forget his address with such ease, one would hope they would come down with amnesia after spending time with White Pony, so you wouldnıt have to remember the horrifying, agonizing experience. If only it was that easy.
Of the album's eleven cuts, only three at the most actually resonate. Those few do enough to transcend the teenybopper crowds and fake plastic aggro posturing ala nu-metal. Those few cuts, are still not mind boggling enough to the degree to go over these crowds heads. The album will not blow any socks off or blow anyoneıs minds, it just plain ³blows². It also leaves them below par with current heavy one hit wonders Dope, Blink 182, Methods of Mayhem, and even Durst himself. All of which have done themselves one better than the one trick, White Pony, Deftones coughed up. This gigantic a misstep for the band leaves one with the hope that the innovatorsı upcoming Chocolate Starfish will wish the imitatorsı White Pony far far away to a Korn field, never to be found again. Far awayŠ