My Chemical Romance frontman Gerard Way made a dramatic entrance aboard a gurney Monday night at Cleveland State University's Wolstein Center.
My Chemical Romance brought "The Black Parade" to life in concert Monday night at Cleveland State University's Wolstein Center with plenty of pyrotechnics and props, including a hospital gurney for singer Gerard Way. Poor guy -- suffering from an acute case of Tortured Artist Syndrome, obviously.Not to worry. Way quickly sprang into action, tore off his hospital gown and belted out "The End," the opening number off "The Black Parade," MCR's hard-rocking, high-concept new album. The darkly glammy opus about death is a throwback to the grandiose heyday of Queen and Pink Floyd, with a dash of Ingmar Bergman.
Playing your masterpiece from start to finish can be a recipe for disaster in concert, but these rising stars from New Jersey pulled it off with panache.
Way, his bass-playing brother, Michael; guitarists Ray Toro and Frank Iero; and drummer Bob Bryar (abetted by touring keyboardist James Dewees) performed "The Black Parade" in the guise of their alter-ego group, also called the Black Parade, complete with dreary marching-band uniforms. Think Sgt.
Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, only lonelier.
MCR's fist-pumping anthems ("Dead!" "House of Wolves," "Famous Last Words," etc.
) and the occasional power ballad ("Cancer") were delivered with ample razzle-dazzle.
During "Welcome to the Black Parade," confetti rained down and miniature dirigibles floated above either side of the stage. "Mama" was punctuated with enough pyrotechnics to make Kiss jealous.
And when Way, a natural scene-stealer with a flair for histrionics, shone a spotlight on all those young fans who sang along during the hilarious "Teenagers" ("Teenagers scare the living [expletive] out of me!"), the irony was delicious.
MCR capped the 90-minute show with selections from its pre-"Black" days, including "I'm Not OK (I Promise)" and "The Ghost of You.
" A sense of anticlimax might've been avoided if the band had dispensed with its older material first, then delved into the "Black" album, which represents a quantum leap forward.
Pacing issues notwithstanding, the only major strike against an otherwise memorable performance was the sound quality, abysmal even by arena-rock standards. The bottom-heavy mix often was overpowered by Michael Way's bass, which rumbled like a T.
rex's mating call.
News RSS