Latest news with #WhitePony
Yahoo
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Soggy Vans, smeared mascara and kohl - Deftones thrill with set of classics at historic Piece Hall
As the polyphonic opening bars of Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) fill the air there is a split second of silence before Chino Moreno leaps forth to an explosion of sound. Deftones have arrived. Their spectacular show at Halifax's historic Piece Hall on Tuesday night is one of only three UK appearances - their first gigs here for three-years. But it is well worth the wait. READ MORE: Dua Lipa brings out surprise guest for iconic duet at first Liverpool Anfield show READ MORE: Glastonbury 2025 drinks prices revealed as costs rise After kicking off with a classic, the Sacramento rockers roll into the moody, gnarly groove of My Own Summer causing a mass singalong of 'shove it' as the anthemic chorus hits. They keep the energy high during a relentlessly thrilling set of classics from their incredible 30-year back catalogue, pounding through Diamond Eyes, You've Seen The Butcher, Around The Fur and Rosemary. It's probably the encore of Minerva, Bored and 7 Words that hold the most power over the crowd of superfans. But for me, it's the classics from White Pony - an album that marked 25 years this month - that hit hardest. The gnarly opening chords and driving drums of Feiticeira sound phenomenal in the open-air courtyard as the heavens open and the clouds collide. While the sensual, stirring Digital Bath sounds brooding and dramatic in the night air. White Pony burst forth at a time when Nu Metal ruled the airwaves. And though Deftones most famous song, Back to School bore all the hallmarks of a Nu Metal hit, that single version of a far more textured album track never truly represented their sound. There's a reason this studied, experimental band has survived long after the peers that populated the alternative landscape of the early 2000s. Their moody, layered soundscapes combine elements of shoegaze, punk and triphop. Often cited as the Radiohead of the metal scene, they have always expanded their music with samples. As such, keyboardist and turntablist Frank Delgado brings texture and complexity during a set that showcases the band's range. But Deftones are predominantly a metal act. So much is owed to the power and anger of Abe Cunningham's distinctive drumming, with his crisp snares and complex time signatures driving the sound. Guitarist Stephen Carpenter is as unshowy as ever. He calmly stands stock still for 90 minutes throwing out incredible riffs, chuggy chords and deceptively complex compositions. But it's Moreno's mercurial tenor - both thrusting and vulnerable - and his distinctive scream that truly elevate Deftones. The frontman spits, snarls and growls out his angsty, cerebral lyrics while rampaging across the stage and leaping off monitors and amps. And his signature Spongebob-style tube socks are of course shown off at every opportunity. From the second Deftones hit the stage, they are greeted by torrential rain. But it matters little to the 6,000 metalheads who dance, jump and throng in the pit. Those sensible enough to bring an anorak let loose among the melange of soggy Vans, smeared mascara and kohl. This is a glorious show of cinematic, anthemic metal hits. Please don't leave it another three years before visiting us again, lads. Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) My Own Summer (Shove It) Diamond Eyes Tempest Swerve City Feiticeira Digital Bath You've Seen The Butcher Rocket Skates Sextape Around The Fur Headup Rosemary Hole in the Earth Change (In the House of Flies) Genesis Minerva Bored 7 Words
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Barabak: Trump could help feed hungry people. Instead he's throwing a vanity parade
On Saturday, on the streets of Washington, Donald Trump will throw himself a costly and ostentatious military parade, a gaudy display of waste and vainglory staged solely to inflate the president's dirigible-sized ego. The estimated price tag: As much as $45 million. That same day, the volunteers and staff of White Pony Express will do what they've done for nearly a dozen years, taking perfectly good food that would otherwise be tossed out and using it to feed hungry and needy people living in one of the most comfortable and affluent regions of California. Since its founding, White Pony has processed and passed along more than 26 million pounds of food — the equivalent of about 22 million meals — thanks to such Bay Area benefactors as Whole Foods, Starbucks and Trader Joe's. That's 13,000 tons of food that would have otherwise gone to landfills, rotting and emitting 31,000 tons of CO2 emissions into our overheated atmosphere. It's such a righteous thing, you can practically hear the angels sing. "Our mission is to connect abundance and need," said Eve Birge, White Pony's chief executive officer, who said the nonprofit's guiding principle is the notion "we are one human family and when one of us moves up, we all move up." Read more: Barabak: Putting the bully in bully pulpit, Trump escalates in L.A. rather than seeking calm That mission has become more difficult of late as the Trump administration takes a scythe to the nation's social safety net. White Pony receives most of its support from corporations, foundations, community organizations and individual donors. But a sizable chunk comes from the federal government; the nonprofit could lose up to a third of its $3-million annual budget due to cuts by the Trump administration. "We serve 130,000 people each year," Birge said. "That puts in jeopardy one-third of the people we're serving, because if I don't find another way to raise that money, then we'll have to scale back programs. I'll have to consider letting go staff." (White Pony has 17 employees and about 1,200 active volunteers.) "We're a seven-day-a-week operation, because people are hungry seven days a week," Birge said. "We've talked about having to pull back to five or six days." She had no comment on Trump's big, braggadocious celebration of self, a Soviet-style display of military hardware — tanks, horses, mules, parachute jumpers, thousands of marching troops — celebrating the Army's 250th anniversary and, oh yes, the president's 79th birthday. Marivel Mendoza wasn't so reticent. "All of the programs that are being gutted and we're using taxpayer dollars to pay for a parade?" she asked after a White Pony delivery truck pulled up with several pallets of fruit, veggies and other groceries. Mendoza's organization, which operates from a small office center in Brentwood, serves more than 500 migrant farmworkers and their families in the far eastern reaches of the Bay Area. "We're going to see people starving at some point," Mendoza said. "It's unethical and immoral. I don't know how [Trump] sleeps at night." Certainly not lightheaded, or with his empty belly growling from hunger. Those who work at White Pony speak of it with a spiritual reverence. Paula Keeler, 74, took a break from her recent shift inspecting produce to discuss the organization's beneficence. (Every bit of food that comes through the door is checked for quality and freshness before being trucked from White Pony's Concord warehouse and headquarters to one of more than 100 community nonprofits.) Keeler retired about a decade ago from a number-crunching job with a Bay Area school district. She's volunteered at White Pony for the last nine years, on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. "It's become my church, my gym and my therapist," she said, as pulsing rhythm and blues played from a portable speaker inside the large sorting room. "Tuesdays, I deliver to two senior homes. They're mostly little women and they can go to bed at night knowing their refrigerator is full tomorrow, and that's what touches my heart." Keeler hadn't heard about Trump's parade. "I don't watch the news because it makes me want to throw up," she said. Told of the spectacle and its cost, she responded with equanimity. "It's kind of like the Serenity Prayer," Keeler said. "What can you do and what can't you do? I try to stick with what I can do." It's not much in vogue these days to quote Joe Biden, but the former president used to say something worth recollecting. "Don't tell me what you value," he often stated. "Show me your budget, and I'll tell you what you value.' Trump's priorities — I, me, mine — are the same as they've ever been. But there's something particularly stomach-turning about squandering tens of millions of dollars on a vanity parade while slashing funds that could help feed those in need. Michael Bagby, 66, works part time at White Pony. He retired after a career piloting big rigs and started making deliveries and training White Pony drivers about three years ago. His passion is fishing — Bagby dreams of reeling in a deep-sea marlin — but no hobby can nourish his soul as much as helping others. He was aware of Trump's pretentious pageant and its heedless price tag. "Nothing I say is going to make a difference whether the parade goes on or not," Bagby said, settling into the cab of a 26-foot refrigerated box truck. "But it would be better to show an interest in the true needs of the country rather than a parade." Read more: Arellano: Trump wants L.A. to set itself on fire. Let's rebel smarter His route that day called for stops at a middle school and a church in working-class Antioch, then Mendoza's nonprofit in neighboring Brentwood. As Bagby pulled up to the church, the pastor and several volunteers were waiting outside. The modest white stucco building was fringed with dead grass. Traffic from nearby Highway 4 produced an insistent, thrumming soundtrack. "There are a lot of people in need. A lot," said Tania Hernandez, 45, who runs the church's food pantry. Eighty percent of the food it provides comes from White Pony, helping feed around 100 families a week. "If it wasn't for them," Hernandez said, "we wouldn't be able to do it." With help, Bagby dropped off several pallets. He raised the tailgate, battened down the latches and headed for the cab. A church member walked up and stuck out his hand. "God bless you," he said. Then it was off to the next stop. Get the L.A. Times Politics newsletter. Deeply reported insights into legislation, politics and policy from Sacramento, Washington and beyond, in your inbox twice per week. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
12-06-2025
- Business
- Los Angeles Times
Trump could help feed hungry people. Instead he's throwing a vanity parade
CONCORD, Calif. — On Saturday, on the streets of Washington, Donald Trump will throw himself a costly and ostentatious military parade, a gaudy display of waste and vainglory staged solely to inflate the president's dirigible-sized ego. The estimated price tag: As much as $45 million. That same day, the volunteers and staff of White Pony Express will do what they've done for nearly a dozen years, taking perfectly good food that would otherwise be tossed out and using it to feed hungry and needy people living in one of the most comfortable and affluent regions of California. Since its founding, White Pony has processed and passed along more than 26 million pounds of food — the equivalent of about 22 million meals — thanks to such Bay Area benefactors as Whole Foods, Starbucks and Trader Joe's. That's 13,000 tons of food that would have otherwise gone to landfills, rotting and emitting 31,000 tons of CO2 emissions into our overheated atmosphere. It's such a righteous thing, you can practically hear the angels sing. 'Our mission is to connect abundance and need,' said Eve Birge, White Pony's chief executive officer, who said the nonprofit's guiding principle is the notion 'we are one human family and when one of us moves up, we all move up.' That mission has become more difficult of late as the Trump administration takes a scythe to the nation's social safety net. White Pony receives most of its support from corporations, foundations, community organizations and individual donors. But a sizable chunk comes from the federal government; the nonprofit could lose up to a third of its $3-million annual budget due to cuts by the Trump administration. 'We serve 130,000 people each year,' Birge said. 'That puts in jeopardy one-third of the people we're serving, because if I don't find another way to raise that money, then we'll have to scale back programs. I'll have to consider letting go staff.' (White Pony has 17 employees and about 1,200 active volunteers.) 'We're a seven-day-a-week operation, because people are hungry seven days a week,' Birge said. 'We've talked about having to pull back to five or six days.' She had no comment on Trump's big, braggadocious celebration of self, a Soviet-style display of military hardware — tanks, horses, mules, parachute jumpers, thousands of marching troops — celebrating the Army's 250th anniversary and, oh yes, the president's 79th birthday. Marivel Mendoza wasn't so reticent. 'All of the programs that are being gutted and we're using taxpayer dollars to pay for a parade?' she asked after a White Pony delivery truck pulled up with several pallets of fruit, veggies and other groceries. Mendoza's organization, which operates from a small office center in Brentwood, serves more than 500 migrant farmworkers and their families in the far eastern reaches of the Bay Area. 'We're going to see people starving at some point,' Mendoza said. 'It's unethical and immoral. I don't know how [Trump] sleeps at night.' Certainly not lightheaded, or with his empty belly growling from hunger. Those who work at White Pony speak of it with a spiritual reverence. Paula Keeler, 74, took a break from her recent shift inspecting produce to discuss the organization's beneficence. (Every bit of food that comes through the door is checked for quality and freshness before being trucked from White Pony's Concord warehouse and headquarters to one of more than 100 community nonprofits.) Keeler retired about a decade ago from a number-crunching job with a Bay Area school district. She's volunteered at White Pony for the last nine years, on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. 'It's become my church, my gym and my therapist,' she said, as pulsing rhythm and blues played from a portable speaker inside the large sorting room. 'Tuesdays, I deliver to two senior homes. They're mostly little women and they can go to bed at night knowing their refrigerator is full tomorrow, and that's what touches my heart.' Keeler hadn't heard about Trump's parade. 'I don't watch the news because it makes me want to throw up,' she said. Told of the spectacle and its cost, she responded with equanimity. 'It's kind of like the Serenity Prayer,' Keeler said. 'What can you do and what can't you do? I try to stick with what I can do.' It's not much in vogue these days to quote Joe Biden, but the former president used to say something worth recollecting. 'Don't tell me what you value,' he often stated. 'Show me your budget, and I'll tell you what you value.' Trump's priorities — I, me, mine — are the same as they've ever been. But there's something particularly stomach-turning about squandering tens of millions of dollars on a vanity parade while slashing funds that could help feed those in need. Michael Bagby, 66, works part time at White Pony. He retired after a career piloting big rigs and started making deliveries and training White Pony drivers about three years ago. His passion is fishing — Bagby dreams of reeling in a deep-sea marlin — but no hobby can nourish his soul as much as helping others. He was aware of Trump's pretentious pageant and its heedless price tag. 'Nothing I say is going to make a difference whether the parade goes on or not,' Bagby said, settling into the cab of a 26-foot refrigerated box truck. 'But it would be better to show an interest in the true needs of the country rather than a parade.' His route that day called for stops at a middle school and a church in working-class Antioch, then Mendoza's nonprofit in neighboring Brentwood. As Bagby pulled up to the church, the pastor and several volunteers were waiting outside. The modest white stucco building was fringed with dead grass. Traffic from nearby Highway 4 produced an insistent, thrumming soundtrack. 'There are a lot of people in need. A lot,' said Tania Hernandez, 45, who runs the church's food pantry. Eighty percent of the food it provides comes from White Pony, helping feed around 100 families a week. 'If it wasn't for them,' Hernandez said, 'we wouldn't be able to do it.' With help, Bagby dropped off several pallets. He raised the tailgate, battened down the latches and headed for the cab. A church member walked up and stuck out his hand. 'God bless you,' he said. Then it was off to the next stop.
Yahoo
12-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Deftones will bring expansive tour to Target Center
The Deftones didn't have Minnesota on the docket when it announced its 2025 North American tour, but the second leg of the tour, announced on Wednesday, will bring the long-running metal outfit to Minneapolis. The band behind White Pony will make a stop at the Target Center on Aug. 29. They'll be joined by Phantogram, who headlined a night at The Fillmore in February, and The Barbarians of California. New music from the group may arrive in the Twin Cities before the band. The Deftones are expected to release an album at some point this year, but details haven't been shared. The last studio effort from the Deftones was 2020's Ohms. The band formed in the early '90s and exploded in popularity with the mid-'90s releases of Adrenaline (1995) and Around the Fur (1997). They separated themselves from the burgeoning nü-metal movement three years later with White Pony, a more sonically dynamic album that continues to earn praise decades later, including a mention among Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Metal Albums of All-Time. Other portions of the tour will feature Idles in place of Phantogram, while previously announced dates include shows with The Mars Volta, System of a Down, and Fleshwater. Elsewhere in the Midwest, the Deftones will stop in Chicago (March 31), Detroit (April 1), and Milwaukee (Aug. 30). A Live Nation presale starts on Friday, March 14 at 10 a.m. with the code "FUNKY." Tickets will go on sale to the general public on Monday, March 17 at 10 a.m.
