Austinist CD Review: Deftones - Saturday Night Wrist

So it comes as no surprise that Deftones' development as a band has coincided flawlessly with the rise of post-punk-influenced stadium rock—Saturday Night Wrist, their fifth long-player, is easily their least “metal” record to date. Leaning heavily on expansive song structures and otherworldly synth textures, its also their most produced record; co-producers Bob Ezrin and Shaun Lopez, replacing longtime confederate Terry Date, give every element in the mix unprecedented lightness and depth. First single “Hole In The Earth” pummels two chords into oblivion before receding into a lilting verse, anchored by drummer Abe Cunningham’s deft touch. The following tracks expand the sound of "indie" metal on a Warner Brothers budget, rendering such distinctions obsolete.

The band shines here, but the record doesn’t really take off until the aptly named “Cherry Waves.” The track opens with an oceanic mass of tones; Stephen Carpenter’s guitars surge and recede in flurries of vapor-trailed reverb, swirling inside massed slabs of Frank Delgado’s smoldering synth tones. Suspended in gauzy diffusion above the maelstrom, Moreno’s fragile voice croons mostly unintelligible abstractions, but his gift for vocal melody speaks volumes of emotion apart from the lyrical cutting-and-pasting. It’s a masterpiece of tension and release, seconded later on “Mein,” a seething wrecker of a track with the classic match of complex melody to crushing volume. The track even survives a cameo by System Of A Down’s Serj Tankian, who delivers the chorus in a flat warble. The instrumental passage that closes side A, “u,u,d,d,l,r,slct,strt,” (apparently a reference to Carpenter’s Playstation addiction), evokes the depressive sonics of mood-masters like The Cure and Radiohead while still managing to resemble the soundtrack to a high-end porn film.

Deftones still haven’t managed to overcome their albums’ pacing issues; Side B runs out of steam early with “Pink Cellphone,” a self-indulgent collaboration with Giant Drag’s Anne Hardy, and recovers only for the subdued closer, "Riviere." Thankfully, the high points expand and improve their earlier work, which places them head and shoulders above most of the genre-confined bands producing this kind of music. Coupled with Machine’s stellar work on Lamb of God’s Sacrament album earlier this year, Saturday Night Wrist heralds a new era of sophistication and digital experimentation in the typically cut-and-dried realm of heavy metal recording. Technically, one could say the same thing about a Linkin Park record; a gifted producer can polish any crap to some degree of palatability. Thankfully, Deftones match the technology with some of the most inspired songwriting of their career. If a better rock record drops between now and January, 2006 will have been a good year indeed.