1 am Sunday April 17th. Back home from the My Chemical Romance concert and happy to say, I have no regrets. Not the tickets I overpaid for on Stubhub, not ditching work early on the last Saturday before tax day, not the 2 hour drive or the $4/gallon gas, not my crazy 6 ponytailed hairdo, not the fact that the majority of the audience was half my age, and not the fact that I had to drag my reluctant husband along to a show he probably hated.
To be fair, he didn’t actually say he hated it; it was something more like “I don’t think that’s my scene.”
Well, I can say, without any hesitation, that it was definitely my scene. Since I’ve been anticipating this concert for two months now, I was prepared for, well, anything, and trying not to let my expectations get too high. Outside the Orbit Room, shivering in the rain/sleet/damnyoumichigan/wind, I was pleased to see the crowd a good mixture of ages and genders, much to my relief, as I was fearing a onslaught of fangirlyness that thankfully never materialized.
Once inside the Orbit Room, I was thrilled at the smaller size of the venue and eager to get in with the crowd in front of the stage, ok, not first row, because I wasn’t willing to wait in the rain/sleet/damnyoumichigan/snow, for several hours, but still, close enough to ensure I could clearly see the faces of the performers. One small regret, I’ll have to confess is that I did let my husband convince (trick) me into believing I’d get a better view in the balcony, so for about 1 ½ songs, I was just a little too far from the action, and sound, but I soon realized my mistake and went back to the main floor.
I won’t go on about the opening act the Architects, I wasn’t there to see them, and didn’t find them too compelling, but before too long at all, the boys of MCR were there, Na Na Na Na Na-ing it for the crowd. And from then on, it was just one non-stop rocking party of great people singing and dancing along with their favorite band. Most of the time, my eyes were fixed on the stage, at Gerard singing, Mikey headbanging and Frank and Ray thrashing on the guitars, but occasionally I’d look around at all these people singing along, boys and girls just rocking out.
I did have a little wariness before, because you know music never sounds the same live as it does recorded, and I was just hoping that I wouldn’t be disappointed, especially as I’d pretty much been listening to their CDs non-stop for the past month. Whatever little concerns I might have had about how they’d sound were quickly blasted out of my head, because this band sounds best loud, and live and rough. I didn’t even need to think about what my ears were hearing, because it was as if they just injected that music directly into my body like an adrenaline shot to the heart. And it was pitch perfect.
If you haven’t guessed it by now, I’m a recent, but instantly obsessed fan of this band. I wish I could explain it; I love practically every song on every one of their albums, I’m fascinated with the story of how they started; mesmerized by the lead singer Gerard Way; impressed with the friendship between the band members and their genuine niceness. And okay, if you’re wondering do I have a bit of a crush on Gerard, I’d have to say. . .oh, nooooo. It’s way beyond that. And darling husband, don’t worry, it’s not that I want the guy, or even want to do things TO him or with him. Oh, no, no, no. I actually want to BE him. Yes indeed. I’m that crazy. If I could have just a fraction of the geeky cool talent of Gerard Way, I’d be a happy happy girl.
I was hoping for some weirdness from the guys, or at least from Gerard, but there wasn’t much more than a few of his faces, and that moment when he carefully tied the Michigan flag someone gave him onto the mike stand and it just slipped right down the moment he let go! Haha.
I have to give a shout out to thank the slam-dancing, mohawked, overgrown teenage boys who cleared out a pretty good area in front of me with their wildness. I think they did scare the living shit out of some of the younger girls, but I held my ground and took full advantage of my five-feet ten inches to push my way up into their zone where I was able to get an even better closer view, as the show closed with Cancer, and Bulletproof Heart. What better ending than there in the mosh pit, bodies with feet flailing going right over my head, and MCR, loud and clear right to the last note.
No regrets, except that it’s over, and they didn’t play EVERY SINGLE SONG from every album. Haha, love you guys, you did great, and I’ll be back if you will!