Deftones and Hopecore: In Defense of the Next Generation of Emos
By CZB
As a 30-something millennial, attending two shows in one week is a whirlwind experience. Being a y’allternative member of the scene means recalibrating your brain from event to event to avoid the effects of acute genre whiplash. Sunday night was Sierra Ferrell in DC, and by Thursday, I was prepping to see Deftones for the first time. More than the music itself, I was curious: how would the crowd energy compare between two completely different audiences?
Deftones Set, 9/11/2025 @ CFG Bank Arena, Baltimore, MD
I got to the arena early, found my seat, and settled in for the Barbarians of California. The pit was only four rows deep, and most of my section sat empty. Pulling up the seating map on my phone, the app showed the seats around me were practically sold out.
In an effort to kill time between sets, I turned to one of my favorite past-times: people watching. Slowly, the gaps in the stands began to close, and as I watched the crowd move in, a pattern emerged: I had the stark realization that I was surrounded by kids.
Swarms of baby emos in dark lip stains and varying patterns of fishnets filed their way into the surrounding seats. Two girls, who couldn’t possibly have been close to drinking age, approached my row and apologetically shuffled in front of me to get to their seats. Watching one by one as each of my subsequent row-mates took their seats, I internally fought with the harsh reality that I am now old.
Okay, okay…I’m not that old. And I certainly wasn’t the oldest Deftones fan in the arena. But this show took me on a journey that ended with an unexpected result: this is my official coming out as a defender of Gen Z and the next generation of emos. Let me explain.
First, some context: it’s no secret that there is an active contingent of elder emo gatekeepers lurking in the dark, twisted corners of the scene, especially on TikTok. Certain fandoms in particular seem to trigger the trolls en masse. Sharing Deftones content online is basically surrendering to rage-bait commentary, one anonymous username at a time. Gen Z and younger fans are constantly thrown under the tour bus for poor show etiquette, entitlement, and being on their phones throughout the duration of a show. The tired cycle of generational discord repeats - old heads look at the younger gens as clout-chasers and posers.
By the time Deftones hit the stage around 9:15 PM, my section had filled to capacity with youths. The crowd promptly erupted into eardrum-bursting screams. My flabbers were ghasted. Phones flew out of pockets, hands raised into the air. I hadn’t seen feral energy like this since the My Chemical Romance show in Philly last month.
And it never stopped. These kids knew every word, cheered for every intro, and filled the arena with a raw, palpable energy.
Just days earlier, I had lamented the imminent downfall of show etiquette as we know it. But here, I felt something completely different: pride, maybe even hope, for the next generation of emos. This crowd was fully engaged with every single moment happening onstage. These kids weren’t glued to their phones, or talking through the whole show. To the contrary - they were completely locked in, living and breathing every note.
I didn’t start my evening thinking I would have some sort of introspective realization, but taking all of this in made me question: maybe the so-called decline of show etiquette isn’t as ominous after all.
Metal, emo, and pop-punk shows have a special breed of fans. Compared to other genres of shows I’ve attended, I find that emo kids look out for each other, respect the openers, and eat, sleep, and breathe the music they love. Every genre has its pockets of clout-chasers - people who only go to shows for the photo op and some sweet, sweet engagement on their social media pages. And, seeing as we are all human beings, you’re guaranteed to find at least one asshole in an arena full of people.
Thirty years after Adrenaline first dropped (October 3, 1995), Deftones are still spanning across multiple generations, pulling them into the fold. What stuck with me most about that night wasn’t just Chino’s familiar voice cutting through the arena, or the band’s undeniable longevity. It was the sight of teenagers screaming every word of a record that came out eons before they were even born. That isn’t clout-chasing, y’all. That’s devotion.
The same passion that once brought us millennials to dingy basement shows and steamy Warped Tour parking lots is very much alive in Gen Z and beyond. The scene isn’t dying. It’s evolving.
Deftones bring the energy on stage.
