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The MCRmy is a group of dedicated My Chemical Romance fans who support each other and help promote the band. MCRmy Hollywood strives to bring you the lastest on everything and anything My Chemical Romance related. News, photos, videos, and more updated daily. This is a website made by an MCR fan for MCR fans!
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 30, 2013
FRANK'S BLOG: to whom it may interest...
i needed to take some time to myself this past week. i felt a moment (or maybe a few moments) of silence was deserved and required. it was my intention to let the dust settle a bit, not form, on the recent mychem announcement. a large chunk of my life (jeez, almost half my life) was devoted to that band and all that went with it, and i felt a week of quiet reflection was the least i could do to honor it and all involved.
i have written, deleted and rewritten this letter way too many times than i care to remember. i am not much for eulogies so i will keep this short and to the point. i don't believe in holding back your feelings or emotions until it is too late. if you did not appreciate someone or something while they were still here then you have no business expressing cute anecdotes when they are no longer around to enjoy them. in the 12 years i have been in mcr i believe i have said all i needed and wanted to say about it when it counted. if you know me or have ever listened to me speak about mychem you know what it meant to me. i lived, breathed, and bled the band. i believed in and admired the things we created and the people that were involved in it (members and fans alike). for better or worse i held nothing back that i felt needed to be expressed. i loved my band with all i had and i have no regrets now that it is done. we began, we lived and we ended mcr for all the right reasons.
if you were there you know how truly special a time it was...and if you weren't, well then you probably wish you were.
thank you all for the memories, my scrapbook is overflowing and my heart is excruciatingly full.
now on to the next…
xofrnk.
source
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 28, 2013
NEWS: Gerard Way shares PO Box address
Today's tweets from Gerard about his new PO Box:
- Gerard Way P.O. Box 572800 Tarzana, CA 91357
- Here are the rules- 1. I cannot pass along anything to anyone else. 2. Don't make it weird.
- Please spread around the PO Box info (also in my bio) and the guidelines. I look forward to hearing from you.
- P.O. Box rule 3- No packages. Please pass along.
source
ARTICLE: Spin Magazine - 10 Essential MCR Songs
#1 - “Helena (So Long & Goodnight)”
The band's first Top 40 hit and finest moment could be considered a ballad, but the blistering 256 BPM verses provide the explosive contrast to the stately chorus that keep it from being a sleepy crossover hit. The surreal, stirring video, in which a corpse leaps out of the coffin for one last dance, also marked My Chemical Romance as mainstream rock’s most ambitious practitioners of the music video since the heyday of the Smashing Pumpkins.
#2 - "Vampire Money
When My Chemical Romance started, they were the weird goth kids in the corner lunch table, writing songs about vampires. By the time they made their final album, 2010's Danger Days, vamps had gone mainstream, and they capped the record with a hilarious kiss-off to all the bands who cashed in on those Twilight soundtracks: "hair back, collar up, jet black, so cool / sing it like the kids that are mean to you." Once again, the band back up their rock nerd bona fides on the intro, as Gerard and the boys engage in a little opening banter in homage to the Sweet's "Ballroom Blitz."
The band's first Top 40 hit and finest moment could be considered a ballad, but the blistering 256 BPM verses provide the explosive contrast to the stately chorus that keep it from being a sleepy crossover hit. The surreal, stirring video, in which a corpse leaps out of the coffin for one last dance, also marked My Chemical Romance as mainstream rock’s most ambitious practitioners of the music video since the heyday of the Smashing Pumpkins.
#2 - "Vampire Money
When My Chemical Romance started, they were the weird goth kids in the corner lunch table, writing songs about vampires. By the time they made their final album, 2010's Danger Days, vamps had gone mainstream, and they capped the record with a hilarious kiss-off to all the bands who cashed in on those Twilight soundtracks: "hair back, collar up, jet black, so cool / sing it like the kids that are mean to you." Once again, the band back up their rock nerd bona fides on the intro, as Gerard and the boys engage in a little opening banter in homage to the Sweet's "Ballroom Blitz."
ARTICLE: Three Cheers for Sweet Career: Farewell, My Chemical Romance
When Gerard Way formed My Chemical Romance, he was 24 and already pursuing his first dream as a visual artist, writing comic books and interning at Cartoon Network. But when he did start the band, he was sure to give them a perfect comic-book-hero origin story: after witnessing the 9/11 attacks while working in New York, the New Jersey native had an epiphany and decided, strangely, to "make a difference" in the world by… writing rock songs. Even stranger, it worked, and quickly — the band that formed in late 2001 had its first cult-building independent album out the next summer, and by the end of 2004 had released Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, the major label debut that rocketed the band to MTV fame and platinum sales.
My Chemical Romance's swift rise, penchant for eyeliner, and very young and heavily female fanbase made them the biggest band to come out of Jersey since Bon Jovi, and also afforded them comparable levels of respect from indie rockers and "serious" music fans. But the pale, deathly makeup, dourly melodramatic lyrics about vampires, and histrionic vocals betrayed a band that also had a wicked sense of humor, an irrepressible ear for hooks, and an impressive vocabulary of all the '70s proto punk and classic rock that their creatively inbred Victory Records contemporaries were completely unaware of.
Sometimes My Chemical Romance laid on the influences a little thick. Way and the Used frontman Bert McCracken refashioned themselves as the David Bowie and Freddie Mercury of the Warped Tour for a cover of "Under Pressure" that became one of the biggest radio hits by either band. And a few years later, MCR covered Dylan's "Desolation Row" for the Hollywood adaptation of the classic graphic novel The Watchmen, paying homage to both the band's baby boomer forebears and the their comic book-influenced visual aesthetic.
Ever faithful to their classic rock DNA, they began the reinvention cycle pretty quickly — the follow-up to their major label breakthrough was 2006's The Black Parade, a bombastic rock opera in the narratively hazy Pete Townshend tradition, which refashioned My Chemical Romance as a lonely hearts club marching band of black-clad skeletons, ushering a cancer patient into the afterlife. Such an abrupt shift would've slowed down other bands — in fact it did slow down the Killers, whose own flip from guyliner to Springsteen that same fall was far more divisive — but My Chemical Romance parlayed it into a five-minute, tempo–shifting crossover pop hit, "Welcome to the Black Parade."
Way and company seemed to grow tired of their Black Parade persona even more quickly than the original band image they'd invented it to escape. In the last six years of the band's existence, they released only one proper album, which was plagued by numerous delays and changes in direction: first, it was to be their back-to-basics garage rock record, with no costumes or concepts. Then, after discarding one producer and a couple dozen songs, they wound up with 2010's Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, a post-apocalyptic narrative complete with radio announcer interludes and a new alias for each member of the band. A leopard can't change its spots, especially if constant change is the essence of its nature.
Last year, vague reports came and went of My Chemical Romance writing songs, even building their own studio to facilitate round-the-clock sessions. But instead of new music, they issued Conventional Weapons, a series of two-song singles that trickled out from October to February, adding up to ten of the songs they recorded in 2009 before shaking the Etch A Sketch to get to Danger Days. At first, the songs registered as merely an enjoyable stopgap release, but now that it stands as the band's Let It Be (always with the classic rock parallels), one savors them more, and realizes how potent the stuff they just let sit on the shelf for years is. In a more just world, Conventional Weapons could've been the start of the next phase of the band, a series of viral micro-EPs that open up new doors for their art and their fanbase like Miguel's Art Dealer Chic (can we say "Arms Dealer Chic"?). But it's not a just world, and the band knew that.
The band's brief, upbeat breakup announcement on Friday night was soon followed a longer missive from Gerard Way himself, which did little to illuminate any specifics of the end of the band, while still putting a charmingly elliptical spin on its entire existence. It's unclear what his plans are for the future, and if they involve music, although he tells an anecdote about buying a vintage tube amp. Last year, Way uploaded an apparent solo track, "Zero Zero," to SoundCloud under the alias Danny the Street, and guested on Deadmau5's single "Professional Griefers." We're hoping his next project involves more fuzzed out riffs like the former and less garish EDM like the latter.
My Chemical Romance's announcement comes at an interesting time: next month will bring comeback albums from two of their biggest contemporaries in the mid-‘00s explosion of platinum emo bands. Fall Out Boy are coming off of a sharp commercial decline and years of "indefinite hiatus" with an album titled Save Rock And Roll. Paramore, meanwhile are debuting a new lineup after frontwoman Hayley Williams's original bandmates jumped ship from what they claimed was merely her glorified solo career.
A less self-possessed band would have wanted to get in on this action for a trendpiece trifecta, but My Chemical Romance didn't win the hearts of millions of scene kids by obsessing over "the scene" like Fall Out Boy did. Their topic was mortality: vampires and ghouls who defied it, as well as unabashedly touchy-feely anthems for Gerard's late grandmother or 9/11 victims or cancer-stricken kids… and speedy, sarcastic punk songs that featured a Tarantino-esque number of bloody shootouts and merciless murders. They took more publicity photos in Kevlar vests than 50 Cent, and released a concert film on a bullet-shaped USB drive.
Given the band's penchant for violent imagery, it's amazing they sold as many records as they did without ever becoming embroiled in Marilyn Manson-level controversy — the closest they got was when a teen fan committed suicide in 2008. When "Teenagers," the darkly funny Black Parade standout, was released as the album's last single, they were cautious to close the video with a "violence is never the answer" PSA message. Three weeks before the Sandy Hook tragedy, the band dropped a Conventional Weapons track called "Gun." that rhymes "a pistol is a lot of fun" with "the government wants your gun," something that probably would've raised a lot more eyebrows if it wasn't a quietly released outtake recorded in 2009. We wouldn't be too surprised if Way had a full clip of murder songs ready to go for the next MCR album when the events of the last few months convinced him that the band's particular brand of gallows humor would not be very appreciated at this moment in American history.
Humor, though, was always My Chemical Romance's greatest weapon. Their songs about vampires were always a little tongue-in-cheek, but nothing was funnier than how ruthlessly "Vampire Money" from Danger Days poked fun at peers who recorded songs for the Twilight soundtracks when vamps went mainstream. Instead, the band happily allowed "SING," the biggest hit from the album, to be covered by the cast of TV's Glee, at a time when bands like Kings of Leon and Foo Fighters made an empty rock cred gesture of turning down the kids from William McKinley High. This is a band, after all, whose big name guest star for the first album they made after hitting it big was Liza fucking Minnelli — they rocked hard, but weren't afraid to let you see their jazz hands.
People who wanted to believe My Chemical Romance were emo prettyboys or goth grumps never seemed to notice the band that wrote song titles like "You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison" and the fast, funny tunes to back them up. Even when Way earnestly writes "I believe in rock and roll" in his letter about the breakup, he follows the statement with a self-deprecating aside: "I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough)."
We won't have any shortage of self-aggrandizing world-saving rock stars without MCR around — there's a new 30 Seconds to Mars album right around the corner — but who we get instead will almost certainly lack Way's wit and self-awareness. My Chemical Romance were ridiculous, but on purpose, and with purpose.
source
Mar 25, 2013
ARTICLE: My Chemical Romance Break Up: Gerard & Mikey Way Explain Why
"My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die."
On Friday night (March 22), My Chemical Romance announced the band’s breakup, after a dozen years and four studio albums.
Stunned by the news of MCR’s breakup, the band’s rabid legion of fans quickly raised questions, and theories began to swirl. In an attempt to explain the band’s sudden demise, members took to social media to share their thoughts.“I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet,” said frontman Gerard Way in a post to his Twitlonger page this morning (March 25). “The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.”
Way explained how he and his bandmates knew it was time to end it. “Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.”
Way also revealed that there was no central person pushing for the breakup. “The triggerman is unimportant,” he added. “There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…”
“I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with- Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.”
Gerard concluded: “My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band- it is an idea.”
Mikey Way, Gerard’s younger brother and the band’s bassist, followed by posting a brief tweet thanking his family and friends.
" I want to thank everybody who helped make the past 12 years an unforgettable journey for me. Family, friends and fans- Thank You"
It is being speculated that My Chemical Romance could reform in some incarnation under a new name, minus Frank Iero. The MCR guitarist has not only announced his new electronic hardcore band Death Spells with former My Chemical Romance touring member James Dewees, but the band has just released a track titled “Where Are My F***ing Pills” (below), along with a brief east coast tour opening for Mindless Self Indulgence.
NEWS: Send your pics with MCR to Kerrang!!
source
Mar 24, 2013
BLOG: Gerard - " A Vigil, On Birds and Glass"
A Vigil, On Birds and Glass.
I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
We cheered.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.
It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.
The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
Love.
This was always my intent.
My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013
We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-
Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope.
Fatalism.
That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.
To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.
I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-
When it’s time, we stop.
It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.
You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.
<At this point, I take a break to receive a visit from old friends, all of which were instrumental in some way to the beginnings of the band. We talk about the old days, and we talk about music, we talk about new things. We laugh and drink diet soda. We say goodbyes, I go to bed, to resume my letter in the morning, which is->
Now-
There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.
There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…
I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.
The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.
All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.
What it said is between me and the voice.
I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.
Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.
There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-
That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?
With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.
And another opens-
This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.
He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-
“This amp talks.” he said.
I smiled.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.
When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.
I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.
In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.
I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-
Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.
Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing-
My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die.
It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you.
I always knew that, and I think you did too.
Because it is not a band-
it is an idea.
Love,
Gerard
source
I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
We cheered.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.
It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.
The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
Love.
This was always my intent.
My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013
We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-
Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope.
Fatalism.
That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.
To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.
I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-
When it’s time, we stop.
It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.
You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.
<At this point, I take a break to receive a visit from old friends, all of which were instrumental in some way to the beginnings of the band. We talk about the old days, and we talk about music, we talk about new things. We laugh and drink diet soda. We say goodbyes, I go to bed, to resume my letter in the morning, which is->
Now-
There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.
There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…
I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.
The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.
All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.
What it said is between me and the voice.
I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.
Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.
There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-
That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?
With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.
And another opens-
This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.
He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-
“This amp talks.” he said.
I smiled.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.
When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.
I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.
In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.
I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-
Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.
Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing-
My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die.
It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you.
I always knew that, and I think you did too.
Because it is not a band-
it is an idea.
Love,
Gerard
source
ARTICLE: POZ Exclusive: Frank Iero (ex-MCR), James Dewees (TGUK, Reggie) Start New Band
James: I have this other thing going with Frank from MCR called Death Spells. We’re opening up for Mindless Self Indulgence in two or three weeks. It’s more like an electronic-hardcore project. We’ve been working with a visual graphics artist and he’s been making these insane videos for us. The music is al little more intense than what MCR was or Reggie. It’s more in the vein of Ministry and stuff like that.
POZ: There’s nothing out for that yet, is there?
James: No, we just posted a song for fun online to get a demo out there. We have a full-length written. There’s red tape to go through before we can announce it.
On Friday, a lot of fans began wondering if Reggie came back because MCR is no longer a thing.
We’ve been off from MCR for a while. For me, I’m friends with everybody, but when I came back from Los Angeles, I wanted to get busy again. I hadn’t been paying attention to it. I got a bunch of emails last night when the announcement came out. When you’re ready for something to be over, it should be over. You shouldn’t force yourself to do anything you don’t want to do anymore. I’m not 100% sure, but Gerard wants to do other stuff. Frank wants to do other stuff. They all want to. That’s fine. It doesn’t mean it’ll never happen again, but it means that everyone wants a real break from it. They don’t want to say it’s a hiatus because then it still lingers over your head. If you say you’re breaking up, cool, then you can stop. You don’t have to answer emails anymore until you want to. I think everybody is going to do a lot of great stuff solo. Everybody is so talented. It’s going to be really, really cool to see what happens in the next year or two.
source
Mar 22, 2013
BLOG: The End of MCR?
Posted on the MCR website today...
"Being in this band for the past 12 years has been a true blessing. We've gotten to go places we never knew we would. We've been able to see and experience things we never imagined possible. We've shared the stage with people we admire, people we look up to, and best of all, our friends. And now, like all great things, it has come time for it to end. Thanks for all of your support, and for being part of the adventure."
My Chemical Romance
"Being in this band for the past 12 years has been a true blessing. We've gotten to go places we never knew we would. We've been able to see and experience things we never imagined possible. We've shared the stage with people we admire, people we look up to, and best of all, our friends. And now, like all great things, it has come time for it to end. Thanks for all of your support, and for being part of the adventure."
My Chemical Romance
PHOTO: Candid - Gerard Way & Mikey Way
Signing for Parkinson's @GerardWay @MikeyWay piece to be auctioned, right side up. http://www.cartwheelart.com/calendar-event/century-guild-illuminate-parkinsons-with-allan-amato/ … pic.twitter.com/GNjoVcpkfW
Mar 21, 2013
VOTE: MTV's Musical March Madness 2013 - MCR vs. Flaming Lips
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 12, 2013
PHOTOS: Free Comic Book Day Preview: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys
Click HERE for more info
Mar 7, 2013
SCANS: Kerrang! #1417
for fullsize images, please click below:
KERRANG! #1417
KERRANG! #1417
Check out the most comprehensive collection of MCR magazine scans on the web!
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