articles
My Chemical Romance / Muse: April 19, 2007 St. Times Forum
from volume 02 issue 01 // Michael Rabinowitz
My Chemical Romance / Muse
Muse: Crushed me like Michael Irons did to that bald dude in “Scanners”
MCR: Generation Y’s Nirvana?!?!? Puhleeze!
Words: Michael Rabinowitz
Photos: Marshall Dickson
Appeared:
April 19, 2007
St. Pete Times Forum, Tampa
Oh Gerard. I tried to love you. I really did. I tried to open up my cynical heart, bury my sardonic wit, and keep my rolling eyeballs firmly in check. But, there is only so much faith I can give you. Maybe I’m too old. Too far past teenage angst and innocence to buy into your hackneyed hair metal guitar riffs, your Liza Minnelli act in white face and feather boa, prancing through your Broadway sized stage sets.
Oh Gerard. I tried to squint real hard and see how you can squeeze your bulging midsection over the 28 inch waist band of your spandex pipe cleaner jeans. (You are quickly becoming My Krispy Kreme Romance). I tried to laugh at your droll Caberet! improv riff: “We are Les Blahck Pahrade! Yes, Blahck Pahrade! Its french, you know?”
Oh, Gerard. I tried to admire your plea for the audience to “never resort to violence,” as a gesture to the Virginia Tech tragedy. You almost had me until you performed your second set, in front of a 40 foot banner of a dozen Smith & Wesson .45’s pointed to an all caps “REVENGE.” I now admire you for your irony.
Oh Gerard. I tried to smile through your one brilliant shining Bowie moment on “Black Parade.” But, I could not get past the repackaging of your unskinny bop glam metal. After all why do you get to be top 40 when the originators—Posion, Dokken, and Vince Neill—are relegated to state radish festivals?
Oh Gerard. I tried not to be the only one waving my hands in the air like you asked. Maybe I should have been born after 1993 like the rest of the audience. Jim Derogotis, the music critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, famously declared that nostalgia is the bane of rock music. He forgot to add except if the audience has no idea that nostalgia is being repackaged to them.
Oh Gerard. I tried to get onboard. I really did. But it was so difficult when Muse opens for you and proceeds to peel the paint off the Forum walls. Lead singer, Matthew Bellamy ascended the thrown that night, becoming a real life Guitar Hero. Applying a cranium rumbling axe to interpret Muse’s mostly electronic anthemic masterpiece, Black Holes and Revelations, he cleaned the house in an immaculate white suit through “Take a Boy” and the spaghetti western on acid trip, “Knights of Cydonia.” You should’ve been there Gerard. (Oh wait you were; applying eyeliner backstage.)
Oh Gerard. I really did try. Perhaps I should just shut up, let the kids enjoy the arena rock, and wave to the “Blahck Pahrade” as it marches past my old ass.
Muse: Crushed me like Michael Irons did to that bald dude in “Scanners”
MCR: Generation Y’s Nirvana?!?!? Puhleeze!
Words: Michael Rabinowitz
Photos: Marshall Dickson
Appeared:
April 19, 2007
St. Pete Times Forum, Tampa
Oh Gerard. I tried to love you. I really did. I tried to open up my cynical heart, bury my sardonic wit, and keep my rolling eyeballs firmly in check. But, there is only so much faith I can give you. Maybe I’m too old. Too far past teenage angst and innocence to buy into your hackneyed hair metal guitar riffs, your Liza Minnelli act in white face and feather boa, prancing through your Broadway sized stage sets.
Oh Gerard. I tried to squint real hard and see how you can squeeze your bulging midsection over the 28 inch waist band of your spandex pipe cleaner jeans. (You are quickly becoming My Krispy Kreme Romance). I tried to laugh at your droll Caberet! improv riff: “We are Les Blahck Pahrade! Yes, Blahck Pahrade! Its french, you know?”
Oh, Gerard. I tried to admire your plea for the audience to “never resort to violence,” as a gesture to the Virginia Tech tragedy. You almost had me until you performed your second set, in front of a 40 foot banner of a dozen Smith & Wesson .45’s pointed to an all caps “REVENGE.” I now admire you for your irony.
Oh Gerard. I tried to smile through your one brilliant shining Bowie moment on “Black Parade.” But, I could not get past the repackaging of your unskinny bop glam metal. After all why do you get to be top 40 when the originators—Posion, Dokken, and Vince Neill—are relegated to state radish festivals? Oh Gerard. I tried not to be the only one waving my hands in the air like you asked. Maybe I should have been born after 1993 like the rest of the audience. Jim Derogotis, the music critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, famously declared that nostalgia is the bane of rock music. He forgot to add except if the audience has no idea that nostalgia is being repackaged to them.
Oh Gerard. I tried to get onboard. I really did. But it was so difficult when Muse opens for you and proceeds to peel the paint off the Forum walls. Lead singer, Matthew Bellamy ascended the thrown that night, becoming a real life Guitar Hero. Applying a cranium rumbling axe to interpret Muse’s mostly electronic anthemic masterpiece, Black Holes and Revelations, he cleaned the house in an immaculate white suit through “Take a Boy” and the spaghetti western on acid trip, “Knights of Cydonia.” You should’ve been there Gerard. (Oh wait you were; applying eyeliner backstage.)
Oh Gerard. I really did try. Perhaps I should just shut up, let the kids enjoy the arena rock, and wave to the “Blahck Pahrade” as it marches past my old ass.
Add a comment...
more from this issue
