Seriously?
Recently, right-wing talker Glenn Beck hypothesized that when the kids on “Glee” performed My Chemical Romance’s maudlin “Sing,” this was part of a broader agenda to undermine American values. Allegedly the non sequiturs Way strings together in the song’s bridge are recruitment slogans for an evil terrorist cult of pink-haired atheist vegetarians.
Anyone who believes the cherub-faced Way and his fellow Chemical Ro-mancers endanger the eggshell minds of suburban youths should’ve been at the sold-out House of Blues on Thursday. The crowd consisted of angst-ridden, yet colorfully attired tweens-to-teens and watchful grownups. Apparently, My Chem are not even subversive enough to offend their fans’ parents.
But that doesn’t mean this wouldn’t have made a dandy first rock concert for little Billy or Susie. MCR, the undisputed sovereigns of emo (who hate being called emo), proved they can be a great band when they stick to what they do best: scrappy but easy-to-enjoy pop-punk such as “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” and weepy neo-power ballads like “The Only Hope for Me is You.” But it’s hard to not roll your eyes at the overwrought histrionics of “Welcome to the Black Parade” and bad attempts at genre-hopping such as “Planetary (GO!)” and “Mama.” If these guys are the most dangerous act in rock, the world needs zombie GG Allin.
The coincidentally named Thursday, who were sick of people calling them emo before Middle Ameri-ca understood the term, stole the show with their volatile sob-core. Unfortunately, the crowd was not interested enough in the opening bands to notice.
CREDIT: BOSTON HERALD
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