He’s “the Patient” from the concept album The Black Parade, and as he climbs off the contraption, microphone in hand, his hair ain’t platinum blonde or silvery gray or whatever you call that post-digital-touch-up color on the cover of December’s Alternative Press. It’s black. And the color Gerard has dyed his hair is totally important. I mean, sure, the thick black curtains pull away, revealing his fellow rockers in identical black-and-gray costumes, standing before the massive black-and-gray backdrops — a sequence of vaguely gothic, kinda impressionistic cityscapes and miniature blimps. Which are, uh, black and gray.
But those other dudes — including hot-lix axeman Ray Toro — move about this dreamscape like average-joe rockers, oblivious to the off-Broadway production they’re in. What we’re witnessing is Gerard‘s comic-book vision, and he revels in the leading role: a post-everything, 21st-century fusion of Misfits-era Glenn Danzig and Freddie Mercury — busting fey, homoerotic poses, stuttering across the stage like a corpse from the “Thriller” video, lifting a move or two from Grease, and speaking to his young followers in a faux English accent. Hell, he even throws in a dash of the Starchild’s classic cock-rock banter: “How are ya doin’ Cleveland? We’re the . . . Black Parade!”
At the same time, Gerard is physically ill-prepared for the role he’s created for himself. He’s just a short little dude — no butt and a tiny hint of gut — lacking Danzig’s muscles, MJ’s moves, Paul Stanley’s chest hair, and Mercury’s operatic howl. Throughout the concert, his thin, weak voice struggles to stay atop the music — let alone the crowd that’s chanting his every lyric. The band itself, even with an additional guitar and a rack of synths, has not a chance in hell of replicating its immaculately produced music; it’s all just an imperfect stab at the ideal.
But those imperfections are just so wonderfully intentional.
My Chemical Romance could “can” its entire performance, beefing it up with layer upon layer of programmed first aid. But Gerard ultimately wants us to hear and feel the group’s inability to sound flawless, wants us to hear that frail voice as it’s just about to crack. Contrary to what everybody else might tell you, The Black Parade isn’t the modern equivalent of Queen’s A Night at the Opera, Pink Floyd’s The Wall, or the Who’s Tommy — bigger-than-life productions passed down to the kids from the rock gods on high. No, this record is more like a high school production of a ’70s concept album, riddled with insecurities and plot holes. And Gerard stands there before us, the spazzed-out drama dork, balls-deep in puberty, auditioning for the drama teacher, belting out a tune with all the nervous gusto of someone whose only theater experience is acting out The Rocky Horror Picture Show a zillion times in his bedroom.
Sure, the dinosaurs of yore were far better musicians and superior composers. But while they yapped about pinball wizards and teachers who should leave those kids alone, none of those stoners really understood what it was like to be a teenager. That’s one reason their rock operas feel far more naive and far less humane than The Black Parade. And though Gerard is on the doorstep of 30, every move he makes and every note he croons betrays the fact he’s never really moved beyond his teen years. That’s why he’s sporting zombie makeup: Both he and that Patient on the stretcher died before they reached adulthood.
Yeah, that’s getting kinda heavy, but just listen to the way Gerard allows the kids of Cleveland to overpower him: “When I was a young boy/My father took me into the city/To see a marching band.” I mean, would Mercury or Roger Waters ever share the spotlight with their audiences in such a vulnerable way? Hell no. And that’s why MCR’s shtick is so goddamn endearing.
This article appears in Feb 28 – Mar 6, 2007.
I think whomever wrote this article might have been a LITTLE bit biased against MCR. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to say that their live show is the best I’ve ever seen. Actually, the last time I saw them (May 2005, with Green Day,) they sounded pretty bad. (I’m currently blaming that on the sound system.) But, come on. Give them more credit. They have been through so much, and they have done so much for so many kids, myself included. Their live show is great. Not the best, but great. They all have a ton of talent, and Gerard’s vision just makes it all the more entertaining to watch. He’s an amazing artist, and he may be small, but they say the best things come in small packages, and that’s definitely the case with him. He’s musically talented, artistically talented, and he’s got millions of fans that adore him. They have all tried incredibly hard to get where they are, and they’re doing a great job.
Personally, I think Mr. Way has more talent in his left pinky than half the artists on the charts these days. His vocals may not be perfect in a live performance, but, again, very few artists have that ability either. What he lacks in the strength of his live vocals he makes up for with every ounce of heart and soul he can give their fans in every show they’ve ever played.
And they don’t overbloat their own wallets by charging ridiculous admission prices to their shows. How many artists on the charts alongside them are doing as much?
His lyrics, and his concepts, are dark and beautiful. It’s this dark beauty that has brought this band down their long road from the Jersey basements they used to play to the arenas they FILL today.
Also, his personal struggles, since everyone feels the need to mention them, have only made him stronger and enabled him to continue to bring success to My Chemical Romance, regardless of the narrow-minded views of people like you.
I just sort of stumbled on this looking for something else entirely, so forgive me the lateness of my reply.
This is a dead on, point perfect write up of that show. As I explained it to a friend the day after – the sound was shitty, Gerard was half out of breath for most of the show, most of the time I couldn’t hear the band for the audience screaming and singing along, and still it was one of the most interesting and exhilarating shows I’ve seen in years. Being one of the older folks in the crowd (I was shocked and thrilled to find that us old fogies were actually in ample supply) I grooved on the energy the kids were emanating, and MCR put on a helluva good show, despite the lack of technical brilliance.
Mia and Shari, you apparently didn’t actually read this article – or at least, you failed to comprehend the point at all. There is nothing in this that indicates Mr. Farrar has a bias against them, is narrow minded, or even dislikes MCR at all. Try reading it again, but first tuck away your obvious uberfan myopia. You’ll see that everything he’s said is a pure compliment.