Seriously. This is wholly unrelated to baseball or sports of any kind, but I feel it merits mentioning, and since this is my outlet to (a very small portion of) the world, here goes.
On Wednesday night I went to see My Chemical Romance perform in downtown Nashville. I’m not a super-emo guy or anything, but I was quite looking forward to the show since the band was going to perform the best album of 2006 in its entirety.
The band was pretty spectacular, but late in the main set, lead singer Gerard Way took a moment for a little speech, a kind of public service announcement in the wake of the recent Virginia Tech shooting. I don’t remember it verbatim, but it was something along the lines of, “We sing a lot about feeling outcast or depressed or lonely, and we know that touches a lot of you. No matter how bad you feel, there’s always someone to talk to; and you never try to solve your problems by hurting others or yourself.”
Then he sang this song.
Obviously, there’s a hint of ironic flourish to the song just like everything else MCR does, but come on. Was I really the only one who was bothered by the flippant contradiction here?
My issue is not so not much with the intention; Way was certainly heartfelt, and his message seemed very appropriate and even downright responsible, given the surprisingly young median age of the audience. He just shouldn’t have said it right before a song that would encourage (or even wink at) said violence.
Despite the dark subject matter of “The Black Parade,” My Chemical Romance can be quite uplifting; at their best, they transform liminality into something anthemic. Why not unfurl that PSA right before launching into this song?
Of course, the effect would have been rendered moot by the giant banner with 18 guns encircling the word “REVENGE” in bright red text.
So between this display of insensitivity and all the death and what not, I left the show a little bummed out. But the fervor and demographics of the audience confirmed to me that this decade will be cherished for two musical developments: the disappearance of any distinctions between pop and hip-hop, and pop–punk concept albums.
Okay, I promise I won’t not write about baseball for a while now.