It Was Never a Phase
Do you remember the first band you fell in love with? An artist whose music, no matter how long you went without listening to it, is so engrained into your being that singing along is simply muscle memory. This past month, I flew to windy San Francisco and attended the Long Live the Black Parade anniversary tour to see my childhood favorite band, My Chemical Romance.
I was first introduced to My Chemical Romance around the age of nine, when the Danger Days album was released. I became an instant fan and made it my mission to memorize every lyric from every album, watch every interview, and purchase any MCR merch in sight at Hot Topic. I remember making mixtapes on burned CDs for my friends that contained all my favorite songs from Bulletproof Heart to Disenchanted and Thank You For the Venom. I felt like I discovered a beautiful gem and wanted to share my treasure with everyone. Seeing an artist be outspoken about their fears of death and dying and the bluntness of their battles of addiction, was something I never saw others talk about. I didn’t know there were people with similar experiences to mine, and didn’t feel ashamed to speak on their struggles.
I felt like I needed to send 100 thank-you letters to four emo boys who didn’t even know I existed.
My emo stan era was cut short, however, when the band announced their breakup in 2013. I was heartbroken, but life went on, and I slowly stopped listening to their music. I gave away my old t-shirts, their CDs collected dust on my shelves, and my beloved emo boys became a distant memory.
However, the emo kid persists. Though I knew MCR inside and out, I never gave their debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, a chance. I one day had the urge to give it a try while working my day job, and I played it from start to finish. This changed everything. The rush of hearing Gerard Way’s voice again sent waves of childhood memories flooding back, and the charm of a lowly produced work of music was encapsulating. The Dawn of the Dead inspired track Early Sunsets Over Monroeville being a particular standout with Frank Iero’s soft, yet melancholic, melody during the verses. I couldn’t stop and had to listen to their entire discography. I felt as though I was experiencing their art for the very first time again; everything felt somehow new and different, but tearfully nostalgic. I understood their art in a new way that I was unable to comprehend as a child. I felt like I was being embraced in a warm hug from an old friend who found their way back to me. That night I looked to see if they had any upcoming shows, and they had announced their stadium tour that day. Tickets went on sale and were bought instantly - trip planned, hotel booked and all.
Standing in Oracle Park with my MCR hoodie was surreal—the months of anticipation had finally led to this moment. Within the first few notes of The End, the tears instantly flowed. I couldn’t believe I was hearing the soundtrack of my childhood and surrounded by so many others who could shout the lyrics I had spent hours memorizing in middle school. I was overwhelmed, but I felt so much love and gratitude in my heart that I wanted to scream the lyrics that had helped me in ways I couldn’t begin to articulate. Through my smudged eyeliner tears, I just knew I had to sing each lyric as loud as I could.
