Gerard Way
Written by : Killian O’Neil and Photographed by: Lindsey Byrnes
I wouldn’t say that I’m a fan of My Chemical Romance. I’d say I have a never-ending love affair with their music.
I first got introduced to them in seventh grade, when everyone I knew was listening to My Chem, The Used or Hawthorne Heights. It was the peak of the pop-punk and emo era, a time when it felt like every weekend some incredible band was playing in Philly or Camden. Of course, I was only 13 then, too young for Warped Tour, too young for late-night shows. Looking back, I get why I wasn’t allowed to go. But still, I was hooked.I clung to My Chem’s music like my life depended on it, because truthfully, it did. At that point I was depressed, suicidal, and going through the motions. Zoloft dulled the edges, but most mornings I could barely get out of bed. And yet, I had them. Their music was my lifeline and continued to be throughout high school. They gave me something to hold onto when nothing else made sense.I’ll never forget sitting on the bus, listening to Bullets and Three Cheers on my CD player over and over until the discs wouldn’t even play without skipping. I played them to death, literally had to buy new copies. I even tried the old toothpaste trick to salvage them, but no luck.
Around late August or early September of 2006, I logged onto My Chem’s website like I always did, checking for tour dates. But this time the page was different. Instead of updates, it was just a black screen with three letters in the middle: “TBP.” Nothing else. Nobody knew what it meant.
Then Hot Topic started selling strange new Black Parade T-shirts. The only way we even knew it was My Chem merch was the tag. Other than that, we were clueless. What the hell was The Black Parade? A new album? An alter ego? A side project? Nobody knew, but I needed answers.
That’s how I ended up buying a ticket to MTV’s $2 Bill Show at the Trocadero in Philadelphia. If you’re from Philly, you know how painful it is to say the Trocadero Theatre isn’t around anymore. It was this old opera house, standing-room capacity around 1,200, maybe 600 seated, with those creaky opera boxes and a second floor that honestly felt like a health hazard in 2006. But God, it was magic.
It was early fall when the show took place. The line wrapped all the way around the block. The crisp air was alive with restless excitement. Everyone was buzzing, asking the same question: Were we about to find out what The Black Parade was?
Frank Iero
When we finally filed inside, the air hit me like a wall, humid, stale, packed with bodies, old popcorn, and fresh merch. Then the lights dropped. Gerard stepped out in what we now know as the Black Parade uniform. At the time, though, all we had were questions.
That night was the very first time I heard The Black Parade live. On Oct. 23, 2006, all of our questions finally had answers. The Black Parade was released in its entirety. A few months after the album dropped, they came back to Philly. This time it wasn’t just a song, it was a full rock opera. Imagine Broadway colliding with emo, staged by My Chemical Romance. It was everything , full marching band, Gerard Way being wheeled out in a hospital bed, the whole nine yards.
I only saw them a handful more times after that, but each show was better than the last. When I heard they were coming back this summer to play The Black Parade again, that old, familiar pull came back. Nostalgia, yearning, excitement ,it all came rushing in.
Because for me, My Chemical Romance was never just a band. They were hope when I had none. They were the reason I held on.
When they released their video diary Life on the Murder Scene, something in me shifted. I connected with it so deeply that it became the catalyst for one of my biggest passions, music journalism. Their music saved me, and their story made me want to find other musicians, tell their stories, and maybe, just maybe, save someone else who felt like I did.
When they announced The Black Parade tour, it meant everything to me. It felt like a full-circle moment to see and hear the band that started it all for me, the band that carried me through the darkest parts of my life. Being able to review it was the real cherry on top.
This time, it wasn’t an old opera house with sketchy balconies. It was a stadium tour. Philly got them at Citizens Bank Park — a very sold-out Citizens Bank Park, without a single empty seat in the entire place.
When I finally heard back from My Chem’s camp and got my credentials, I didn’t realize until I got there that I was on the floor, in the mix of it all. As I walked onto the field, the stage loomed ahead with three massive letters across the top. In the middle of the crowd was another smaller stage everyone affectionately called the B stage. The crowd was dressed to the nines in their fishnets, black attire, and flawless makeup.
It felt surreal. The same band that inspired me to write about music was about to perform.
Ray Toro
And just like back then, the mystery was still alive. Everyone had been going down wild rabbit holes about what they’d do next. Gerard has this brilliant imagination and a flare for theatrics. On this tour, we have a dictator, a firing squad, a woman singing opera in the middle of the crowd, and coded messages flashing on the boards before curtain call. The best way I can describe this is a Broadway show brought to life within The Black Parade.
Nearly two decades later, they’re still keeping us guessing, still making us feel, still saving lives. They’re still giving us hope that there’s something bigger than us out there ,something we desperately need, especially right now.
Once I found my seat, I looked around and really took it all in: the crowd, the costumes, the energy. The girls next to me whispered back and forth that the band had saved their lives as well, and that their inner teenager would be healed tonight.
About 10 minutes before the band went on, a weird funhouse song started to play, giving me mild flashbacks of being stuck in a creepy carnival house of mirrors. Meanwhile, the language of Keposhka appeared on the screens, each slide displaying a different message, some in English, others in an unfamiliar code. If you don’t know what Keposhka is, it is a fictional language created by artist Nate Piekos and inspired by 1930s and 1940s posters from various countries.
Next thing I knew, I looked up at the stadium screens, which asked us all to take our seats. Immediately following, we were asked to rise for a “national anthem,” and they proceeded to bring out their “Immortal Dictator.” He was dressed as an army general who looked like he was from World War II and had a throne in the middle of the floor by the sound guys.
Immediately after, the rest of the band appeared, including, as I later found out, Frank’s dad, who popped in that evening on the tenor drum for the drag band (which stayed onstage the entire night). Right before the band came out, two men dressed as army generals stood onstage as his father played the drum. As they filed onto the stage one by one, each band member had a punch card, like they were clocking in to work. They all came out to single drum hits and an opera singer, Maryanne, in the background. The music started to blend into a beautifully synced version of The End, which began with a few instruments strumming and gradually transitioned into a haunting hospital monitor sound. Next, the sweet sound of Gerard’s buttery voice echoed throughout Citizens Bank Park, cutting through the chaos and soothing even the loudest screams.
The lights hit, and the show was underway with ear-piercing screams, fog rolling from the stage, and a light show I honestly didn’t expect from this band. As they played through the first song, The End, they immediately transitioned into Dead!, which was quite the production. The lights on stage seemed to be synced perfectly with the drummer’s click. With each click, the lights hit the stage. I have been to a lot of shows in my life ,and I mean a lot , and this was something I’m still struggling to put into words because it was so well designed.
Before I knew it, they were playing The Black Parade, and my teenage self came alive. There wasn’t a single person who wasn’t singing along, and some around me had tears in their eyes. It was a moment that forever will be burned into my brain.
Frank Iero
As soon as the song wrapped, we were blessed by Philadelphia greatness when the iconic Philly Phanatic came out in all his glory. The Phanatic wasn’t just doing his fun little dancing; he was out chucking cheesesteaks into the crowd as Gerard spoke into the mic, saying how “The Black Parade is the official spokesman of the cheesesteak,” then asked how all of us in the crowd were doing.
Right after that wrapped up, it was execution time. For those who don’t know, on this tour they have a firing squad “shoot” actors on the B stage. Upon entering Citizens Bank Park, they handed out an 8-by-11 card that said either “yay” or “nay” , which was for this very part of the show. He asks the crowd to vote if the actors should live or die. Historically, regardless of what the audience wants, they go ahead and execute them on the B stage. A plume of smoke goes off, you hear and see pyrotechnics, and the actors drop to the floor.
Before that could even be cleaned up, you start hearing the start of “I Don’t Love You,” and once again the crowd went into a frenzy.
As My Chem wound down their set and landed on Disenchanted, a fan project began to take shape across the stadium. As the first notes echoed out, violet hues slowly washed over sections of the crowd, casting a somber, almost ethereal glow. It was truly beautiful.
The second-to-last song for The Black Parade set was “Famous Last Words,” which I feel obligated to talk about. I have never felt so much heat, passion, and intensity in a song. I got lost in the moment between Ray (Toro) shredding and all the fire that was coming off the stage. The fire outlined the front of the stage and climbed the sides, making it look as if the band was about to be set on fire.
Right after, they wasted little time going into “The End,” where a man dressed as a clown “killed” Gerard onstage at the end of the song. He dropped to his knees “bleeding” and crawled away as the clown opened his shirt, revealing what could only have been a makeshift fake bomb strapped to him. Then the pyrotechnics hit, and Gerard dropped.
Mikey Way
The intermission was underway with an incredibly talented cellist, Clarice Jensen, who played for about 15 minutes. Then the band all came out through the floor onto the B stage.
This time the energy was different. Everyone was on their feet and ready to see what was about to happen. We all knew the setlist for The Black Parade, but this ,nobody but the band knew what was about to ensue. They all walked through the crowd stage left, escorted by security. Gerard wore an army jacket, Mikey sported an Oasis shirt, Ray had a plain black shirt, and Frank rocked a vintage Phillies “P” bomber jacket. Their drum kit was in the middle of the B stage, which was shaped like an octagon. What was once rows of chairs become a see of people and a makeshift pit starting to take shape .
Once on stage, it took little time for them to dive into “Headfirst for Halos,” which was a treat all in itself. It was the first time they played it on this tour, and everyone who had been part of the MCRmy from the start knew how special this song was. For those who don’t know, it’s off their first album, Bullets.
My Chem made sure to play all the fan favorites like “I’m Not Okay,” “Helena,” and even included a song from 2019, “Foundations of Decay.” Time became fleeting once they got onto the B stage. Every song felt like it only lasted a minute, and before we knew it, the show was closing out with a song from their last album, “Danger Days,” “The Kids From Yesterday.”
Mikey Way
As the set ended and the band thanked everyone, it was a beautiful moment to take in. Every single person in that stadium was united; time stood still as the guys took their bows. We were all coming together to heal the things that once made us not okay.
The purpose of My Chemical Romance when they started was to save lives. It is quite clear that 20 years later, they are still doing that, even for younger generations.
My Chemical Romance
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