Chemical bonding
After taking in a concert by punk band My Chemical Romance, father and son agree: This band is plugged into the pain, confusion and rage of its audience.
By MIKE WILSON and DYAMI WILSON
Published February 22, 2005
TAMPA - Mike: The punk band My Chemical Romance played the Masquerade on Friday night in a gig sponsored by alternative rock station 97X. My 13-year-old son, Dyami, had turned me on to the band's hit song, I'm Not Okay (I Promise), so I took him with me to check out the show.
I left the club with my head buzzing like a bug zapper. What was on his mind after the show? "Not taking anyone's crap," he said.
Dyami: Walking from the parking lot to the Masquerade, I knew things were going to get crazy. The line to get in wrapped around the corner and went down the street half a block. Looking at the people, you could tell they were all dead-on MCR fans - mostly gothic, around 16 years old. It was a place where all the freaks with long black pants and chains could be freaks together with their fellow freaks.
Tickets had sold out online in two minutes, so everybody at the show thought he was the biggest My Chem fan in the world.
Mike: As we got in line, three girls in red MCR T-shirts came bounding across the street, screaming that they'd just met the band. Sure enough, the tour bus was parked in the lot they'd come from.
The girls were Isabella Maafu, 14, Andrea Woods, 14, and Kaylan Young, 13, all of St. Petersburg. I asked Isabella what it had been like to talk to the band. She helpfully grabbed my pen and paper and wrote down a quote. Can't get this one wrong.
"It was awesome! I kissed bassist Mikey Way! Best night of my life."
I asked Isabella how Mikey had reacted to the kiss. Her expression said: stupid question. "I didn't make out with him or anything," she said. (This time I wrote it down.)
Anything else?
"They're a lot skinnier in person," she said.
Dyami: It took us 30 minutes to get to the front of the line. They checked my ticket and drew an X on my hand because I'm under 21. I walked into a big room with lots of people my age waiting to go ecstatic, including me. There was a top floor with the drunk people, a middle floor with the crazy people, and the bottom floor with the crazy and drunk people.
Mike: We chose the middle floor.
MCR's latest album is Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. The band is from New Jersey, like Bruce Springsteen. At first I didn't think front man Gerard Way had much in common with the Boss.
But when MCR started playing, I realized that Gerard and Springsteen sing about some of the same things: isolation, uncertainty, pain. The daily teenage emotional menu.
Dyami: MCR took the stage and blew the freaking roof off.
You could tell when you saw them perform that it wasn't easy for the band to get where it is now. Gerard sang about depression, suicide, family tragedies and the time he was stabbed in kindergarten.
"We are so f--- happy to be here. Thank you, Tampa," Gerard said.
Frank Iero did insane things such as playing his guitar like a violin and using it to knock down the mike stand. The stage crew would run and pick it up, and then he would kick it down again to make them work. Bob Bryar threw his drum sticks or broke them on stage after every song.
Mike: The mosh pit was an orthopedist's dream. When Gerard screamed, "I want to see you f--- dancing," the kids started the demolition derby, minus the cars.
Dyami: I thought it would be awesome to go in there, but it looked like people were getting killed.
Mike: Gerard was like a religious leader, screaming "Do you love us?" and baptizing the crowd with water shaken from his bottle.
Dyami: He sounded like a Munchkin when he spoke, but that didn't stop his vocals from being amazing. He wore a black suit and tie and had long, black, wet hair and glasses.
After the last song, I'm Not Okay (I Promise), everyone screamed for an encore. They came back and played Helena, about Mikey and Gerard's grandmother who passed away.
Mike: Gerard said he wanted us to scream so loud that she'd hear us.
The show lasted 50 minutes, which might not seem long, but the band had given all it had. I left thinking something had been let loose in that room, something that had to be let loose.
Dyami: It was an inspiring experience. It had me and everyone else wanting to scream, jump and fight for the distorted sound of revenge.
-- Times features editor Mike Wilson can be reached at 727 892-2924 or mike@sptimes.com Dyami Wilson is in the seventh grade at St. Paul's School in Clearwater.