There would normally be an extensive preamble on the part of myself or other writers, providing a long term backstory, recent history or just straight simply setting up a feature of the band and why the upcoming release is such a big deal and that the future of the bands success hinges upon it. On this particular occasion, there is none of that. Instead, all that needs to be said is that Deftones have released one of their finest albums to date. A collection of songs that distill everything special about the Sacramento legends into something both familiar and refreshingly new.
We dive right in with ‘my mind is a mountain’, a gorgeous, lurching doom-tinged opener that packs a vicious punch. The machine gun cracks of Abe Cunningham’s snare intro, to Stef Carpenter’s guttural, grinding guitar tone are such perfect supporting cast to Chino Moreno’s haunting and visceral vocals. Every layer serves as the perfect backdrop for Chino Moreno’s haunting, visceral vocals. This is Deftones at their most intoxicating, chaos swirling in every direction, unpredictability at every turn. And just when you think you’ve found your footing, mountain hits you with a breathtakingly soft bridge hook, luring you in, before the outro violently shoves you back out. It’s beautiful, bruising, and utterly Deftones.
Carpenter and Cunningham spin you in circles on Locked Club, hypnotic and captivating in equal measure. The track drifts like a gentle stream, lulling you into a false sense of calm, until, without warning, you’re swept over the edge. The waterfall hits, and you plunge into the depths, the descent both crushing and strangely blissful.
One of the album’s greatest strengths is just how immaculately it’s been put together. It might sound harsh to criticise bands for track sequencing, but it really does matter. Just as a live set ebbs and flows to give the crowd moments of release, an album needs to breathe, rise, and fall to keep the listener locked in. Get it wrong and even die-hard fans may drift away before the end. Here, though, Private Music is flawless. Each transition feels natural yet unpredictable, and while you never quite know what’s coming next, you trust Deftones completely to lead the way.
The three-track punch of ecdysis, infinite source and souvenir is nothing short of spectacular. Ecdysis opens with an ominous weight, its monstrous bassline locking in seamlessly with Cunningham’s drums. There’s that old adage that a band is only ever as good as its drummer and in Deftones’ case, it rings truer than ever. Cunningham doesn’t just keep time, he shapes the mood, drives the tension, and elevates every riff around him. Few albums earn praise on the strength of their drums alone, but here it feels entirely justified.
Reviewing an album of this calibre is its own challenge. When the music is operating at such a consistently high level, there’s a temptation to repeat the same praise until it risks sounding saccharine, or worse, disingenuous. Equally, forcing faults into the conversation just to create “balance” would be dishonest. The truth is, Deftones remain a one-of-one band. Their music is so unique, unmistakably theirs that even the most carefully chosen compliments start to feel redundant, yet there’s no escaping how deserved they are.
With that said, there does feel like they have found some interesting new ground on ‘i think about you all the time’, a soft and at times delicate ballad. Moreno’s signature whispered, melancholic vocals are superb throughout. In and amongst everything, it still stands tall as a highlight of the album. At times it is wonderfully uplifting, whilst maintaining a wistful sorrow that perhaps only Chino can express.
Milk of the Madonna and Cut Hands are both monsters, but in very different ways. Madonna is fast and furious, a surge of adrenaline, while Hands locks into a devastating groove and gives Cunningham room to unleash a percussive assault so feral you wonder how the kit survives.
The album rounds out with Departing the Body, opening on a chilling intro where Moreno’s voice drops to an uncharacteristically deep whisper before snapping back into his familiar, soaring register. It cuts clean through the low-end haze, guiding the track into a finale that feels at once ethereal and crushing. Hooks drift cloudlike over the noise, while Cunningham adds one final flourish before the music collapses back into the same eerie motif that began it all. It’s a perfect closer to a near-perfect album, cyclical, haunting, and utterly Deftones.
At this point, there would be another amble down a path of explaining why this album is so important to what comes next for Deftones, and that with this new music they take another step into the stratosphere or metal history. But that of course is bullshit. The band simply move at their own speed, on a course they choose because they have quite simply earnt that right. All that simply should be said is ‘private music’ is one of the best albums you are likely to hear in 2025, and you should immediately go listen to it.
‘private music’ is out now via Reprise Records.
Agreed ???? percent
Magical album