Live Review: Deftones, Letlive

Arriving in time to catch the main support, letlive., this reviewer was treated to a sonic summary of what post-hardcore sounds like in 2013. The Califonian five-piece was tight and conjured up some razor-sharp guitar fury that recalled genre touchstones like At The Drive-In and Glassjaw, perhaps with some of their stylistic quirks sanded off for maximum blunt force trauma.

While you couldn't accuse letlive's frontman Jason Aalon Butler of lacking showmanship or energy, about his onstage persona grated as the set went on. Seemingly unable to decide whether he wanted to be a vulnerable emo kid or a macho brocore alpha, his onstage antics (climbing lighting rigs, spitting water on the crowd) often felt awkwardly theatrical – and this kind emotionally-charged rock lives or dies by its sincerity. To be fair, the band's assembled fans front and center lapped it up, salvia and all, but it still felt like letlive. left a good deal of the other punters feeling indifferent.

Deftones, on the other hand, occupied the stage with the effortless assurance of lifers that have rightly earned their stripes. Early on, they got the blood flowing with the parenthetical one-two punch of Be Quiet And Drive (Far Away) and My Own Summer (Shove It) before stepping off the gas for a more chilled out midset. Fantastic renditions of later material like Tempest, Poltergeist and Swerve City stood proud as the band kept cranking out more of the hits. Digital Bath featured a beautifully languid bridge before hitting a spine-tingling climax. The twisted ballad Change (In The House of Flies) was briefly dedicated to the recent passing of former bassist Chi Cheng, an event that must have been on the minds of everyone in the room.

The Roundhouse can sometimes be plagued by iffy sound, but Steph Carpenter's enveloping wash of velvety distortion meshed perfectly with a chest-thudding kick from powerhouse drummer Abe Cunningham, providing everything needed for frontman Chino Moreno to soar over the top. Having been plagued by vocal issues in the past, Moreno's inimitable voice and horrifying scream were in perfect shape. Clearly enjoying himself, he affectionately joshed his adoring and constantly moshing fans between songs.

While this reviewer was hoping to hear some of the bands under-appreciated softer side, the set ended with a cavalcade of flawlessly executed brutality. The throat-shredding Bloody Cape segued into a terribly destructive encore of songs from the debut record Adrenaline, which sent the already throbbing crowd into a violent frenzy.