The Song That Turned Decay
Into Beauty and Outlived Its Era
Into Beauty and Outlived Its Era
If you think nu metal is stuck in the past, turn on Deftones’ “Change” and see how wrong you were.
A track written a quarter century ago sounds today like it was ahead of its time.
In 2000, this dark jewel of alternative metal stood out against the era’s aggressive radio hits, and in 2025 it still grabs young listeners raised on a totally different diet. What’s so special about a song about a person turning into a fly? It manages to transmit emotional chaos in a way most modern artists couldn’t dream of—brazen, hypnotic, and honest. Now, as Deftones ride a new wave of nostalgia and TikTok recommendations, “Change (In the House of Flies)” once again proves that truly fearless music doesn’t age.
Darkness never goes
out of style
out of style
House of Beautiful Rot
When Change hit MTV in 2000, it made every Limp Bizkit song sound like a fart joke in comparison.The song crawled instead of sprinted, seduced instead of screamed, and yet it hit harder than the loudest breakdown. Deftones ewired what heavy could mean.
The irony — it became their biggest hit. While radio expected another angry riff machine, they slipped a funeral dirge past the gatekeepers and into heavy rotation. And kids ate it up. Because Change doesn’t yell at you to feel something; it sits in the corner of your bedroom like a shadow and waits until you can’t look away. That’s why it survived where most nu-metal fossils turned to dust.
Music You Can’t Escape From
In 2000, the world of guitar music was boiling: nu metal ruled MTV and radio. By then Deftones had already made a name among the heavy bands of the ’90s, but the album White Pony, whose first single was “Change,” showed every member from an unexpected angle. Instead of the genre’s typical explosive rap-metal, they took the risk of diving into atmospheric experiments.
Released on May 20, 2000, “Change” became a turning point: the Maverick label initially wanted a tougher banger, but the band insisted on this pensive, dark song as the album’s face. The risk paid off—the quiet, slow single was instantly picked up by rock stations, becoming the most added track of the week; DJs were even downloading it from Napster before release to be the first to spin it. “Change” climbed to No. 3 on Billboard’s Alternative Airplay chart and No. 9 on the Mainstream Rock chart, becoming Deftones’ biggest hit at the time.
“This track came out when I was 16 and thought nobody could possibly understand how angry and empty I felt. ‘Change’ didn’t offer answers, but it gave me a sound that matched the noise in my head. That was enough.”
— Melissa, 39, Seattle
The song finally led the Californians out of the shadow of their more primitive nu-metal neighbors and marked their new status—a band ready to break genre boundaries. At the turn of the millennium, when many heavy acts competed in brute force, Deftones made a power move: “Change” proved that a slow, sensual track can be stronger than a dozen noisy aggressors. Culturally, it marked the moment when alternative metal earned the right to be art, not just youth revolt.
In 2000, the world of guitar music was boiling: nu metal ruled MTV and radio. By then Deftones had already made a name among the heavy bands of the ’90s, but the album White Pony, whose first single was “Change,” showed every member from an unexpected angle. Instead of the genre’s typical explosive rap-metal, they took the risk of diving into atmospheric experiments.
Released on May 20, 2000, “Change” became a turning point: the Maverick label initially wanted a tougher banger, but the band insisted on this pensive, dark song as the album’s face. The risk paid off—the quiet, slow single was instantly picked up by rock stations, becoming the most added track of the week; DJs were even downloading it from Napster before release to be the first to spin it. “Change” climbed to No. 3 on Billboard’s Alternative Airplay chart and No. 9 on the Mainstream Rock chart, becoming Deftones’ biggest hit at the time.
“This track came out when I was 16 and thought nobody could possibly understand how angry and empty I felt. ‘Change’ didn’t offer answers, but it gave me a sound that matched the noise in my head. That was enough.”
— Melissa, 39, Seattle
The song finally led the Californians out of the shadow of their more primitive nu-metal neighbors and marked their new status—a band ready to break genre boundaries. At the turn of the millennium, when many heavy acts competed in brute force, Deftones made a power move: “Change” proved that a slow, sensual track can be stronger than a dozen noisy aggressors. Culturally, it marked the moment when alternative metal earned the right to be art, not just youth revolt.
“Change (In the House of Flies)” opens with a solitary guitar riff—viscous and almost mournful—over which anxious ambient noises and Chino Moreno’s whispering vocal creep in.
The band builds tension slowly, inch by inch: barely audible electronic effects from DJ Frank Delgado shimmer in the background, bassist Chi Cheng lays down a crawling bass line that sets the composition’s ominous pulse. This soundscape lulls the listener at first, but the hidden energy swells with every second.
When the climax hits, Deftones crash in with a chorus—loud, rolling, yet somehow glowing from within. Chino’s voice soars upward; he doesn’t scream so much as desperately wail the melody, keeping its fragility intact.
The band builds tension slowly, inch by inch: barely audible electronic effects from DJ Frank Delgado shimmer in the background, bassist Chi Cheng lays down a crawling bass line that sets the composition’s ominous pulse. This soundscape lulls the listener at first, but the hidden energy swells with every second.
When the climax hits, Deftones crash in with a chorus—loud, rolling, yet somehow glowing from within. Chino’s voice soars upward; he doesn’t scream so much as desperately wail the melody, keeping its fragility intact.
That blend of heaviness and tenderness became their signature: the song remains heavy even without the metal-standard growl.
There’s magic in the mix—the guitars of Stephen Carpenter and Moreno intertwine so the noise turns into beauty. Journalists noted that deep in the arrangement you can hear almost heavenly sighs à la Cocteau Twins, something unusual for the metal scene. Thanks to producer Terry Date, the instrumental chaos takes shape: Abe Cunningham’s drums step into the shadows, then punch in to mark dramatic peaks. The final sound is like a widescreen cinematic dream on the brink of a nightmare. You can feel this song on your skin: every move of the sound—from quiet rustle to guitar squall—conveys either aching emptiness or a sudden sense of release. “Change” sounds as if you’re standing in the eye of a storm in slow motion, and it gives you goosebumps.
There’s magic in the mix—the guitars of Stephen Carpenter and Moreno intertwine so the noise turns into beauty. Journalists noted that deep in the arrangement you can hear almost heavenly sighs à la Cocteau Twins, something unusual for the metal scene. Thanks to producer Terry Date, the instrumental chaos takes shape: Abe Cunningham’s drums step into the shadows, then punch in to mark dramatic peaks. The final sound is like a widescreen cinematic dream on the brink of a nightmare. You can feel this song on your skin: every move of the sound—from quiet rustle to guitar squall—conveys either aching emptiness or a sudden sense of release. “Change” sounds as if you’re standing in the eye of a storm in slow motion, and it gives you goosebumps.
“I watched you change / into a fly / I looked away / you were on fire…”—from the first lines Chino Moreno drops us into a creepy metaphor.
The narrator watches someone close turn into something repulsive—a fly—and seemingly burn up before his eyes.
The image of metamorphosis fascinates and repels at the same time. Then it goes further: “I took you home / set you on the glass / I pulled off your wings / then I laughed”—the narrator takes this “fly” home, rips off its wings, and laughs.
The narrator watches someone close turn into something repulsive—a fly—and seemingly burn up before his eyes.
The image of metamorphosis fascinates and repels at the same time. Then it goes further: “I took you home / set you on the glass / I pulled off your wings / then I laughed”—the narrator takes this “fly” home, rips off its wings, and laughs.
That brutal, almost sadistic picture forces the question: what is the song actually about? Moreno is known for fragmentary, abstract writing that leaves plenty of space for the listener to fill in.
For years fans and critics have argued over the meaning of “Change.” One interpretation: the song is about watching the moral decay of someone you love and even getting a perverse thrill from it. The lyrics clearly invoke themes of voyeurism—the detached gaze—and loss of self. Deftones, for their part, only stoked the mystery. The band hinted the fly’s transformation could be a metaphor for emotional emptiness after a brutal breakup. Psychologically, the narrator seems helpless before another’s pain and at the same time complicit in it.
“I found ‘Change’ on some random YouTube playlist during lockdown. I had just lost my job, my relationship was crumbling, and this weird whispery song just got it. I must’ve looped it 200 times that week.”
— Julian, 28, Austin
The line “I pulled off your wings then I laughed” rings especially cold-blooded—like a confession or a sick fantasy. Here Moreno blurs the line between tormentor and observer, victim and witness. The theme of change (as personal transformation) is rendered through a creepy insect image that sharply distinguishes “Change” from typical nu-metal anthems about anger or grievance. Instead of bluntness we get a painfully beautiful allegory, open to interpretation. In the end, the song challenges the listener to look into their darker appetites and ask—don’t we sometimes enjoy another’s downfall?
How the “Fly” Took Over Pop Culture
“Change (In the House of Flies)” left a bold mark both in music and beyond it. With this track Deftones finally stepped outside nu metal’s frame and became inspirations for a new wave of heavy alternative. The influence of “Change” can be felt across countless later acts—from post-hardcore to modern metalcore. For example, in 2019, British band Architects released their own version of “Change” and called the album White Pony “pure genius,” acknowledging Deftones’ huge impact on their sound. And they weren’t alone: Breaking Benjamin, together with members of Seether and Three Days Grace, performed “Change” on tour in 2008, and South Africa’s Seether recorded an acoustic version in 2014. These covers show how the song became a new standard of dark lyricism in heavy music.
Outside the scene, “Change” spread through pop culture into the most unexpected places. The song appeared in the vampire thriller Queen of the Damned, the comedy Little Nicky (where Deftones even show up on screen), in the anime Dragon Ball Z: Cooler’s Revenge during a fight sequence, in series like The Following and American Dad!, and it growled ominously in the trailer for Dexter’s Season 7. Not every rock track can boast that it fits vampires, cartoon super-warriors, and TV—“Change” got in everywhere. That speaks to its universal atmosphere: the song is cinematic enough to intensify on-screen scenes, and cool enough that directors from all kinds of genres want it.
Within the rock community, “Change” quickly gained cult status. Critics kept pushing it to the tops of lists. The outlet Consequence called it a “modern classic” and Deftones’ best track, perfectly embodying what fans love about the band.
Kerrang! went even further, declaring that “Change” turned Deftones from “nu metal outsiders” into “alt-metal messiahs” in the early 2000s. In other words, this one song managed to redefine the band’s image and opened new horizons for the entire scene. It also reshaped aesthetics: Deftones showed that heaviness can be sensual and atmospheric. Many followers started blending heavy riffs with dream-pop melancholy precisely thanks to “Change.” There’s even a term now—“Deftones-core”—a kind of micro-genre where young bands consciously absorb White Pony’s style: guitars drowning in reverb and a vulnerable, yearning vocal. Twenty-five years after release, we still hear echoes of “Change” in music across generations—whether in shoegaze-metal experiments or neon-noir film soundtracks. The song became a cultural code for a whole slice of the alternative crowd who value not just noise, but mood.
The Soundtrack of a Slow-Motion Catastrophe
Of course, with that level of fame came skeptics. Some say “Change” is an overrated hymn to teenage melancholy that alternative radio overplays. Purists of the heavy genre once turned up their noses: supposedly Deftones “softened,” got hung up on “sad mush” instead of bringing the heat like before.
For fans of more straight-ahead metal, “Change” sounded too slow and mysterious—no big sing-along chorus to yell, no guitar solo. Some early-2000s critics could be dismissive: just a depressive slow jam for gloomy teens. And fans of other nu-metal bands may have wondered why Deftones suddenly climbed the pedestal—over a whisper and experiments?
The truth is, time sorted it all out. The hits by those “straightforward” acts are collecting dust in the memory’s back room, while “Change” keeps living a full life. If anyone calls it dull, they probably never listened into the layers—or weren’t in the right mood. Yes, the song is dark and unhurried, but that’s its strength. It’s not trying to please everyone. “Change” does exactly what it’s meant to: it slips under your skin and stays there. Try calling it overrated when the final chorus gives you goosebumps—good luck. In the end, music isn’t a sport, and it doesn’t matter how technical or loud it is. Deftones bet on atmosphere and emotion—and won. Skeptics can keep their straight-line rock—we’ll keep diving back into the hypnosis of “Change.”
Why It’s Still With Us
So, it’s been almost 25 years.
Why is “Change (In the House of Flies)” still on people’s minds and not losing relevance?
First, a new generation is rediscovering Deftones. In recent years the band’s tracks have popped up in viral clips, and streaming and TikTok fed them to listeners who were kids—or not even born—when White Pony dropped. The result: shows are full of twenty-somethings who arrived after 2000. For them, “Change” doesn’t sound like “old school from 2000,” but like a fresh, unique find amid today’s uniform content flow. In an era when attention is torn between endless trends, the song’s genuine emotional charge feels like air.
The themes in “Change” haven’t gone anywhere either. Watching someone close to you change for the worse—sadly familiar today, whether through the lens of mental health or toxic online influences. You could say in 2025 we all live a little “in the house of flies”: there’s so much information and other people’s drama around that you can’t help becoming a spectator to others’ transformations. It’s no surprise Gen Z responds to Moreno’s words—even if they’re not fully clear, they transmit a mood of alienation and the gaze of someone quietly witnessing something troubling.
Beyond that, “Change” is an example of music outside time. Production-wise and sonically, the track still holds up: the guitars don’t sound dated, the electronic elements are woven in with finesse, and the overall recording quality easily outclasses many modern DIY indie-metal releases. The song became a bridge between generations of rock fans. It hits both those who miss the 2000s and those who search for sincerity in the digital churn.
What’s more, Deftones’ influence can be heard in current artists across genres—from heavy music to ambient pop—so “Change” indirectly lives on in new material young musicians are making today. In a world where trends flip at lightning speed, such longevity is rare. It’s a sign the song touched something fundamental in listeners. Why does “Change” matter now? Because it reminds us: melancholy has its beauty, heaviness can be intellectual, and classics are born when musicians aren’t afraid to risk. As long as people feel and hurt, songs like this will keep resonating—on vinyl, in a Spotify playlist, or on a new film’s soundtrack.
Music You Can’t Escape From
“Change (In the House of Flies)” outlasted fashion, genre labels, and even its own haters—and came out on top. It isn’t just a millennial nostalgia hit; it’s a genuinely powerful piece that keeps speaking to every new listener in a clear emotional language. Technologies will shift, popular genres will rotate, and even Deftones themselves will evolve, but their dark anthem of transformation remains a constant reminder: sometimes the darkest music casts the brightest light.
Listen Further
If “Change” still haunts your headphones, here’s what to spin next:
For years fans and critics have argued over the meaning of “Change.” One interpretation: the song is about watching the moral decay of someone you love and even getting a perverse thrill from it. The lyrics clearly invoke themes of voyeurism—the detached gaze—and loss of self. Deftones, for their part, only stoked the mystery. The band hinted the fly’s transformation could be a metaphor for emotional emptiness after a brutal breakup. Psychologically, the narrator seems helpless before another’s pain and at the same time complicit in it.
“I found ‘Change’ on some random YouTube playlist during lockdown. I had just lost my job, my relationship was crumbling, and this weird whispery song just got it. I must’ve looped it 200 times that week.”
— Julian, 28, Austin
The line “I pulled off your wings then I laughed” rings especially cold-blooded—like a confession or a sick fantasy. Here Moreno blurs the line between tormentor and observer, victim and witness. The theme of change (as personal transformation) is rendered through a creepy insect image that sharply distinguishes “Change” from typical nu-metal anthems about anger or grievance. Instead of bluntness we get a painfully beautiful allegory, open to interpretation. In the end, the song challenges the listener to look into their darker appetites and ask—don’t we sometimes enjoy another’s downfall?
How the “Fly” Took Over Pop Culture
“Change (In the House of Flies)” left a bold mark both in music and beyond it. With this track Deftones finally stepped outside nu metal’s frame and became inspirations for a new wave of heavy alternative. The influence of “Change” can be felt across countless later acts—from post-hardcore to modern metalcore. For example, in 2019, British band Architects released their own version of “Change” and called the album White Pony “pure genius,” acknowledging Deftones’ huge impact on their sound. And they weren’t alone: Breaking Benjamin, together with members of Seether and Three Days Grace, performed “Change” on tour in 2008, and South Africa’s Seether recorded an acoustic version in 2014. These covers show how the song became a new standard of dark lyricism in heavy music.
Outside the scene, “Change” spread through pop culture into the most unexpected places. The song appeared in the vampire thriller Queen of the Damned, the comedy Little Nicky (where Deftones even show up on screen), in the anime Dragon Ball Z: Cooler’s Revenge during a fight sequence, in series like The Following and American Dad!, and it growled ominously in the trailer for Dexter’s Season 7. Not every rock track can boast that it fits vampires, cartoon super-warriors, and TV—“Change” got in everywhere. That speaks to its universal atmosphere: the song is cinematic enough to intensify on-screen scenes, and cool enough that directors from all kinds of genres want it.
Within the rock community, “Change” quickly gained cult status. Critics kept pushing it to the tops of lists. The outlet Consequence called it a “modern classic” and Deftones’ best track, perfectly embodying what fans love about the band.
Kerrang! went even further, declaring that “Change” turned Deftones from “nu metal outsiders” into “alt-metal messiahs” in the early 2000s. In other words, this one song managed to redefine the band’s image and opened new horizons for the entire scene. It also reshaped aesthetics: Deftones showed that heaviness can be sensual and atmospheric. Many followers started blending heavy riffs with dream-pop melancholy precisely thanks to “Change.” There’s even a term now—“Deftones-core”—a kind of micro-genre where young bands consciously absorb White Pony’s style: guitars drowning in reverb and a vulnerable, yearning vocal. Twenty-five years after release, we still hear echoes of “Change” in music across generations—whether in shoegaze-metal experiments or neon-noir film soundtracks. The song became a cultural code for a whole slice of the alternative crowd who value not just noise, but mood.
The Soundtrack of a Slow-Motion Catastrophe
Of course, with that level of fame came skeptics. Some say “Change” is an overrated hymn to teenage melancholy that alternative radio overplays. Purists of the heavy genre once turned up their noses: supposedly Deftones “softened,” got hung up on “sad mush” instead of bringing the heat like before.
For fans of more straight-ahead metal, “Change” sounded too slow and mysterious—no big sing-along chorus to yell, no guitar solo. Some early-2000s critics could be dismissive: just a depressive slow jam for gloomy teens. And fans of other nu-metal bands may have wondered why Deftones suddenly climbed the pedestal—over a whisper and experiments?
The truth is, time sorted it all out. The hits by those “straightforward” acts are collecting dust in the memory’s back room, while “Change” keeps living a full life. If anyone calls it dull, they probably never listened into the layers—or weren’t in the right mood. Yes, the song is dark and unhurried, but that’s its strength. It’s not trying to please everyone. “Change” does exactly what it’s meant to: it slips under your skin and stays there. Try calling it overrated when the final chorus gives you goosebumps—good luck. In the end, music isn’t a sport, and it doesn’t matter how technical or loud it is. Deftones bet on atmosphere and emotion—and won. Skeptics can keep their straight-line rock—we’ll keep diving back into the hypnosis of “Change.”
Why It’s Still With Us
So, it’s been almost 25 years.
Why is “Change (In the House of Flies)” still on people’s minds and not losing relevance?
First, a new generation is rediscovering Deftones. In recent years the band’s tracks have popped up in viral clips, and streaming and TikTok fed them to listeners who were kids—or not even born—when White Pony dropped. The result: shows are full of twenty-somethings who arrived after 2000. For them, “Change” doesn’t sound like “old school from 2000,” but like a fresh, unique find amid today’s uniform content flow. In an era when attention is torn between endless trends, the song’s genuine emotional charge feels like air.
The themes in “Change” haven’t gone anywhere either. Watching someone close to you change for the worse—sadly familiar today, whether through the lens of mental health or toxic online influences. You could say in 2025 we all live a little “in the house of flies”: there’s so much information and other people’s drama around that you can’t help becoming a spectator to others’ transformations. It’s no surprise Gen Z responds to Moreno’s words—even if they’re not fully clear, they transmit a mood of alienation and the gaze of someone quietly witnessing something troubling.
Beyond that, “Change” is an example of music outside time. Production-wise and sonically, the track still holds up: the guitars don’t sound dated, the electronic elements are woven in with finesse, and the overall recording quality easily outclasses many modern DIY indie-metal releases. The song became a bridge between generations of rock fans. It hits both those who miss the 2000s and those who search for sincerity in the digital churn.
What’s more, Deftones’ influence can be heard in current artists across genres—from heavy music to ambient pop—so “Change” indirectly lives on in new material young musicians are making today. In a world where trends flip at lightning speed, such longevity is rare. It’s a sign the song touched something fundamental in listeners. Why does “Change” matter now? Because it reminds us: melancholy has its beauty, heaviness can be intellectual, and classics are born when musicians aren’t afraid to risk. As long as people feel and hurt, songs like this will keep resonating—on vinyl, in a Spotify playlist, or on a new film’s soundtrack.
Music You Can’t Escape From
“Change (In the House of Flies)” outlasted fashion, genre labels, and even its own haters—and came out on top. It isn’t just a millennial nostalgia hit; it’s a genuinely powerful piece that keeps speaking to every new listener in a clear emotional language. Technologies will shift, popular genres will rotate, and even Deftones themselves will evolve, but their dark anthem of transformation remains a constant reminder: sometimes the darkest music casts the brightest light.
Listen Further
If “Change” still haunts your headphones, here’s what to spin next:
- Deftones – White Pony (2000): Where “Change” lives — and where Deftones became a genre of their own. Start with “Digital Bath” and “Knife Prty” for more surreal dread in stereo.
- Team Sleep – Team Sleep (2005): Chino’s side project. Dreamier, druggier, even more fragile. Like “Change” took a Xanax and floated into outer space.
- Karnivool – Sound Awake (2009): If you want that same slow burn and existential tension. Think “Change” but through a prog-metal telescope.
- Hum – Downward Is Heavenward (1998): Deftones didn’t invent space-gaze guitars — Hum were already painting shoegaze with rocket fuel.
- Loathe – I Let It In and It Took Everything (2020): The Gen Z answer to “Change.” Heavy, atmospheric, and beautifully bleak. They don’t hide the influence — they run with it. They’re all kindred in spirit. Music for when you’re quietly unraveling… yet craving the noise of it.
