Look Alive Sunshine: MCR’s Return
by Erin Christie
It was 2012—I was in the trenches of middle school and sporting a Walmart version of “emo bangs” because my mother wouldn’t let me have the actual MySpace-era fringe, much to my dismay. A frequent flyer at Hot Topic, I made a point to dress as “edgy” as I could (which meant wearing black skinny jeans and any various tight-fitting band tee)—needless to say, I wasn’t “like other girls.”
Around this time, I started a Tumblr page dedicated to my love for bands such as Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco—who, at the time, were just as impactful to me as Green Day had been to my parents and their peers. I spent my free time hunched over my bulky Dell laptop, scrolling my dashboard, losing my mind over various band-related memes. Through Tumblr, I was exposed to a whole new range of music that I otherwise wouldn’t have known and with that, came my personal discovery of My Chemical Romance.
When Welcome to the Black Parade was released in 2006, its dark, melancholic aura drew international acclaim, and it was upward from there. Teenagers like me (who “scare the shit” out of the band themselves) flocked to their discography as it spoke to parts of life that most people dare not to touch.
Upon my first listen, Gerard Way’s vocals—oftentimes expressing thoughts of self-doubt, insecurity, frustration, and longing—cut like a knife, and I was immediately hooked.
Way, joined by guitarists Ray Toro and Frank Iero and bassist Mikey Way—donning ‘Rocky Horror’-esque fashion and makeup—were creating something completely unlike the rest of their peers. More than just musicians, they were storytellers, and they were experts in their craft. Their tracks, angst-ridden, sharply poetic, and brutally harsh, depict picturesque scenes of hospital beds, funeral marches, and post-apocalyptic anarchy. Backed by guitar-heavy, head-bang-prompting instrumentation, these tall tales created the perfect backdrop for anyone grappling with complicated emotions. Listening to MCR became an outlet for their listeners, and it’s no question that releasing their songs was an outlet for the foursome themselves.
I remember watching the video for “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” for the first time and hearing Toro’s iconic opening monologue—“You like D&D, Audrey Hepburn, Fangoria, Harry Houdini, and croquet. You can't swim, you can't dance, and you don't know karate. Face it, you're never gonna make it.” I can still recite it word-for-word. I saw myself in the band, then—with those goofy misfits, making absolute clowns out of themselves whilst dressed as schoolboys. That video, that song, that entire record, their entire catalog, still mean something to me.
As soon as I fell in love with them, though, I was confronted with the reality that everything was ripping at the seams for my new-found favorite band. They announced that they would be taking an indefinite hiatus in early 2013. “I hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene,” Way laments on the soft ballad, “Disenchanted,” prompting audiences to begin to understand the pressures of being in one of the most renowned rock bands around. That pressure, it seems, would be the band’s end.
March 21st was a haunting date for me in the years after to the split. A constant reminder of what once was and the consequential end of something that had been so significant to me. I remember when the band released their ‘greatest hits’ record, May Death Never Stop You, in 2016—it had been such a punch to the gut at the time as I, and so many other hopeful fans, had been eager to welcome them back, only to be let down with yet another reminder that they were gone.
I clung to anything that could keep their spirit alive, from Way’s solo project, Hesitant Alien (2014), and his comic Umbrella Academy (now adapted into an incredible Netflix series!) to Iero’s band, frnkiero and the cellabration (later renamed Frank Iero and the Future Violents). It was great to see the four of them thriving and doing their own things respectively, but it still tugged at my heartstrings to know that no matter what, ‘the boys’ would never be ‘back in town.’ At least, that’s what I thought.
As life would have it, though, the dead can come back to life—earlier this month, My Chemical Romance announced that they are, quite literally, getting the band back together. Upon finding out, it seemed too good to be true, some kind of sick joke. And then came the tears.
Within the past year alone, the industry seems to be channeling the early 2010s once more, and such as spurred a collective return to Tumblr-era emo roots. I mean, Fall Out Boy recently announced a co-headlining tour with none other than Green Day, for Pete’s sake!
Despite these various revivals being what could seem like a cheap money-grab, with MCR considered, I’m personally not upset in the slightest. Now in their forties—and for many of them, married and with kids—the MCR boys aren’t the same rambunctious ‘killjoys’ they were back during the Danger Days era, and I can’t quite picture Way bouncing around the stage at the same ferocity he used to. I never got the chance to see MCR during their prime, and even if they were performing completely stationary and without any kind of emotion, a tear would still be brought to my eye to even be in their presence.
Even before the reunion was announced, I saw multiple teenagers proudly sporting Frank Iero Halloween costumes this year—it was as if they had known something that the rest of us didn’t. Even now, years later, it’s impossible not to notice how strong of a hold they have on their fans, and that’s something that’s never going to die. There’s no doubt that the G-note will remain in the minds of any MCR fan for decades to come, and that’s a beautiful thing.