3.03.2007

Sex, Death, God and Power Pop

I finally joined The Black Parade a couple of days ago, along with my friend Frank. It was a culmination of a long-held desire (well, at least since the start of this blog). As for my review, a quick preface: while I stand behind my take on TV and movies, I don't profess to be much of an authority on music. My iTunes library isn't gonna impress anyone, my CD rack is mostly filled with scores from movies and I'm often the guy who doesn't realize that that hot new song is, in fact, a decades-old cover. That said, how was My Chemical Romance? With apologies to David Letterman, I'll say they...

Blew. The. Effin. Roof. Off. The. Dump.
(the Effin's mine, not Dave's – it's a familyish blog)

Unfortunately, "Dump" is pretty appropriate. While the view from the floor of the Allstate Arena was pretty good, it sounded like the show was being broadcast from the floor of the Atlantic Ocean.

However, MCR managed to rise against the poor sound mix... often due to the "pyrotechnics and strobe lights" that we were warned of on the way in. This was a full-out, old-school arena rock show. Spotlights. Lasers. Lighters. Guns. Blimps. And fire.

Giant, choreographed columns of fire.

The Black Parade is a concept album, loosely hung around the idea of a young dying cancer patient. To open the show, said patient was rolled out on a hospital gurney in front of a black curtain. When the first power chord kicked in, the patient ripped off his gown to reveal himself as Gerard Way, the lead singer, and the curtain dropped to show off the band, dressed in matching black skeletal band outfits. They blistered thru the set, playing the album in order, highlighted by shooting off ticker tape cannons during the title track.

Did I mention the giant, choreographed columns of fire?

Anyway, the crowd ate it up. The crowd, of course, being mostly half my age. If Frank and I wanted to hook up some prom dates, we'd have been in great shape. To be fair, there were a few audience members that weren't half my age... they were, perhaps, a third.

After strutting thru The Black Parade album, the band ditched the skeleton schtick for the encore, dedicating the second set of earlier hits to the "MCRmy" They wiped off the face paint, traded their dead band outfits for traditional leather jackets, and busted out five or six songs in front of a floor-to-ceiling curtain featuring a circle of guns around the word "revenge."

MCR may not be the most original band in the world; Frank pointed out that the lead singer was channeling Freddie Mercury and David Bowie almost pose for pose. Good thing my musical reference drawer is pretty shallow. And while tapping into teenage angst and rebellion has also been done before, it's for a good reason... it's a backbone of good ol' rock and roll.

So a hearty reco on the show – if The Black Parade is coming to your town, break out your best black wardrobe and get ready to revel in darkly beautiful musical excess. As the band says, "Come one, come all to this tragic affair."

7 comments:

Phil said...

Never stop rockin', Geo.

Unknown said...

Rock. On.

Some Girl said...

Yay! You make me happy that I decided to buy overpriced floor tickets ($75 each after all the convenience fees.. *painful noise*) at the last minute and am dragging my boyfriend to the to the show in Oakland next week. Granted he's only coming along to make fun of MyChem and because Rise Against is opening for them, but still..

Valerie said...

But how did it compare to the Def Leppard concert you went to in High School?

I don't remember why I called you Fred Astaire, but I do remember the day after the D.L. concert, you wore a T-shirt you had bought at the concert.

I think you wore that shirt almost as much as the "Late Night" T-Shirt. ;)

Geo said...

Phil: Hells yeah.

Dave: Hells. Effin. Yeah.

Rachel: Enjoy - btw, welcome!

Valerie: Better. Lepp was fun, given that I was prolly 16, but there's a bit more going on with MCR than the themes of "party!" and "school sucks!" that Lepp explored.

If I remember as well as you, that was the somewhat controversial "W.O.M.E.N." shirt, which featured a fat teacher robot explaining to a bunch of hot girl robots that the acronym stood for "Worship Our Master's Every Need." Ah, ill-conceived high-school chauvinism... ;)

Some Guy said...

Sorry, Geo, but your last comment sparked a memory of the classic locker room song - "Riban, yeah! Lot's of Tony Riban..." I forget the rest, if there was any.

Valerie said...

Yes! Exactly.

I remember the acronym thing too! And I remember being offended by it. ;)