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May. 11th, 2008 03:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
novembersmithSo, My Chemical Fucking Romance does Madison Square Garden. There is NOT ENOUGH GLEE IN THE WORLD. I shouldn't have gone, I had 2 papers to write, I stood outside in the rain for six hours, and it was the best night of my life thus far. I regret nothing.
So I don't know a lot about Taking Back Sunday or Drive By, but I would like to note that Adam Lazarra has the same accent as my Grandma and is pretty fucking funny, and basically acted as though he was one of those crazy ribbon dancers twirling his microphone around. It was interpretive, okay, the microphone wire tumbling through space was ARTISTIC. Also, Matt Rubano was in constant motion and also in constant glee. His little face! Filled with so much delight.
NOW TO MY CHEM.
So somehow I latched onto two awesome fangirls in line (outside in the MISERABLE RAIN) and we made it to about four rows back from the barrier. I was already totally excited by how close we were but then with the general moshing and shoving around that happened during the first two acts, I wound up like 2 people from the barrier and when Gerard came out all beaming and prancing around and basically doing \o/ for a good solid ten minutes, I nearly threw up from sheer joy. HE WAS RIGHT THERE.
It has to be said that the event staff fucking blew, and would ACTUALLY DESCEND INTO THE PIT and shake their flashlights at you and make threatening gestures at your camera, which WHAT THE FUCK EVER, EVENT STAFF, so I didn't get quite as many pictures as I would have liked. That said, I got about 200. Um. And most of them are of Gerard and MIKEY FUCKING WAY, HOLY SHIT.
Guys, I have to admit. I thought Mikey was cute and adorkable and all, but I never saw the obsession with his stage presence or anything. I mean, his schtick is basically: stand there. Except. Mikey Fucking Way stands there better THAN ANYONE ELSE ON EARTH. NRNNNRGH. His fucking boots. And his hair toss. And okay, dude smoulders. He looks out in the crowd and smoulders, and if it were possible I would totally have gnawed on his boots and rubbed my head on his crotch (tm Frankie). Also, I would like to note Mikeyway is a total professional; even after Gee swept him up into his arms in a show of brotherly affection, dude KEPT PLAYING. (Side note: surprisingly Gerard made it a couple steps before he dropped Mikey. I was totally proud of him. GERRRAAARRD. SO CUT.)
Whoops, I was trying to save my Gerard flail for later. HOLY GOD, THOUGH. Okay, take a minute to imagine Gerard's arms. Or you could look up some pictures. If there hasn't been a picspam yet, THERE SHOULD BE.
Okay, moving on.
I didn't see a lot of Ray but apparently he and Frank nuzzled? And I saw his hair a lot in my peripheral vision, and also when he got his picture taken with the crowd (RAY TORO HOW ARE YOU SO ADORABLE EVEN FROM AFAR? IT IS LIKE YOUR SUPERPOWER.) Bob was obscured by a cloud of his own hair most of the time, also, but sometimes I saw an eye, or even a beaming face. I SAW BOB BRYAR SMILE, THAT IS RIGHT. Frank kept having guitar issues and not writhing so much as he has in shows past, but he was still a total, effortless hotass. Also, when he knelt on the stage to play Desert Song my brain possibly melted out of my ears. In conclusion: Frank was fucking intense.
OKAY ON TO GWAY.
So, Gerard is my hero, and I mean that totally unironically. He fucking howled as a preface to House of Wolves. And it was a sexy, sexy howl, and also eerily realistic. I'm sorta worried about how long he might have practiced it and listened to tapes from Natural Geographic on the Timber Wolf. I can see him earnestly telling Frank "This is the Alpha Male! *howls* What do you think, is it too throaty?" and then Frank winds up having to stealthily smother Gerard with a pillow so he can get some motherfucking sleep, Jesus.
Also, at one point during the show, for reasons that escape me--he might have explained this, but what with the motherfucking chaos of the pit I missed it--Gerard draped a black washcloth over his head. o.O GERARD HOW SO INEXPLICABLE. I have some truly awesome pictures of this, wherein Gerard looks like even more of a cult leader whackjob than usual, waving his arms and conducting the gleeful crowd. I also have a really excellent one of Mikeyway making a WTF face and Frank pointedly ignoring the washcloth shenanigans. GERARD. WHY DID THIS MAKE ME LOVE YOU MORE. I DON'T EVEN KNOW.
Also, okay, the absolute best moment of the entire night, for me, was when Gerard came right up to the stage in front of me (and, okay two other people) and fucking did this sultry pose and looked down and spit and I don't even know how to describe it but it was the HOTTEST THING OF MY LIFE. So fucking filthy. I may have had a sexual experience while jammed up under some anonymous person's armpit. Sad, but true.
Unfortunately, because I am an idiot I didn't actually have anything to eat all day but coffee, diet coke, cigarettes, and a handful of cheetos, so naturally I got sick during My Way Home is Through You (which he dedicated to Lyn-Z, MY HEART YOU GUYS). I really, really didn't want to leave. Really. I was right next to the barrier and catwalk (WAIT UNTIL YOU GUYS SEE THE PICTURE I TOOK OF GERARD'S ASS. NOT THAT I OBJECTIFY HIM. BUT IT IS BITABLE, OKAY.) But I wound up having to get taken out. I choose to believe this was serendipitous, actually, because not only did I get to see firsthand how awesome MCR fans are (as soon as I started to crumple and swoon people were calling over security and holding me up and it was so fucking sweet, honestly--I was not able to say thank you then, BUT THANK YOU, RANDOM AWESOME PEOPLE), I also had a moment with Gerard, wherein our eyes met. He was all, I am so concerned for you! and I was like, I love you but I have to go vomit now, and then he was like, I totally understand. Seriously, guys, he looked all concerned. FOR ME. And also, I found out later in the bathroom that I looked like a zombie queen from Mars. WHICH CAN ONLY BE GOOD IN THIS CASE. GERARRRD. CALL ME.
Anyway, after about ten minutes, I returned to the pit and gradually wormed my way back up to the barrier. Not as close as before, but still pretty motherfucking close. I think one of the absolute best things about the show, for me, was how you could tell everyone on stage was completely thrilled to be up there. And not to be redundant and focus on Gerard, but damn. He spent most of the show doing gleearms. \o/ forever. The show ended with Cancer and Desert Song and Helena. God, and let me just take a moment to say how much fucking fun all the music was. I mean, part of the absolute delight of MCR is just seeing the boys, how campy and delighted and adorable they all are, but just in terms of how fantastic and rockable the music was, A++. The Sharpest Lives! HOUSE OF WOLVES! Helena! Mama! Sleep! I'm Not Okay was so fucking fun, and there was a moment when Gerard came up to Frank's mic and was all pay attention to me! TO ME! And Frank just continued to sex up his guitar, and Gerard gave up and went to pester Mikey. It was adorable.
And HEADFIRST FOR HALOS. GODDDD. BULLETS, BABIES. BULLETS. And Cemetery Drive, which is totally my soft spot from Revenge and uggghhh. I thought this review was going to be coherent but it's not. At all. Gerard at one point during the early half of the concert brought out this kid, a total adorable mini-Gerard who looked sort of bemused by the whole thing, and Gerard was so fucking proud. He was all, "this kid has so many dads!" and GERRAAARD. And we all told the kid hi, and then Gerard launched into Welcome to the Black Parade still out on the catwalk and staring up at him was really, eerily like a religious experience. GERARD. I have a video of Gerard on the catwalk singing Cancer and it's somehow so heartwrenching and yet filled with diva at the same time. HIS FACE. And Desert Song, god. Frank on his knees. DID I MENTION FRANK ON HIS KNEES.
And the end of the show, when Gerard was saying goodbye, and there was something about their next record being awesome and maybe involving cowboys? I am totally in favor of the Sheriff of Emotown making a record, I gotta say. "If this is the last show we play, stay alive." God, Gee. How are you so perfect? And then there was hugging and general adorableness and ugh, ugh ugh. Okay, I have to go look through all my pictures again and listen to Bullets. I'm pretending to be writing papers, but secretly I'm just listening to Halos over and over and sniffling. PAST SELF, YOU HAD IT SO GOOD.
In conclusion: GERARD MOTHERFUCKING WAY.
NOW TO MY CHEM.
So somehow I latched onto two awesome fangirls in line (outside in the MISERABLE RAIN) and we made it to about four rows back from the barrier. I was already totally excited by how close we were but then with the general moshing and shoving around that happened during the first two acts, I wound up like 2 people from the barrier and when Gerard came out all beaming and prancing around and basically doing \o/ for a good solid ten minutes, I nearly threw up from sheer joy. HE WAS RIGHT THERE.
It has to be said that the event staff fucking blew, and would ACTUALLY DESCEND INTO THE PIT and shake their flashlights at you and make threatening gestures at your camera, which WHAT THE FUCK EVER, EVENT STAFF, so I didn't get quite as many pictures as I would have liked. That said, I got about 200. Um. And most of them are of Gerard and MIKEY FUCKING WAY, HOLY SHIT.
Guys, I have to admit. I thought Mikey was cute and adorkable and all, but I never saw the obsession with his stage presence or anything. I mean, his schtick is basically: stand there. Except. Mikey Fucking Way stands there better THAN ANYONE ELSE ON EARTH. NRNNNRGH. His fucking boots. And his hair toss. And okay, dude smoulders. He looks out in the crowd and smoulders, and if it were possible I would totally have gnawed on his boots and rubbed my head on his crotch (tm Frankie). Also, I would like to note Mikeyway is a total professional; even after Gee swept him up into his arms in a show of brotherly affection, dude KEPT PLAYING. (Side note: surprisingly Gerard made it a couple steps before he dropped Mikey. I was totally proud of him. GERRRAAARRD. SO CUT.)
Whoops, I was trying to save my Gerard flail for later. HOLY GOD, THOUGH. Okay, take a minute to imagine Gerard's arms. Or you could look up some pictures. If there hasn't been a picspam yet, THERE SHOULD BE.
Okay, moving on.
I didn't see a lot of Ray but apparently he and Frank nuzzled? And I saw his hair a lot in my peripheral vision, and also when he got his picture taken with the crowd (RAY TORO HOW ARE YOU SO ADORABLE EVEN FROM AFAR? IT IS LIKE YOUR SUPERPOWER.) Bob was obscured by a cloud of his own hair most of the time, also, but sometimes I saw an eye, or even a beaming face. I SAW BOB BRYAR SMILE, THAT IS RIGHT. Frank kept having guitar issues and not writhing so much as he has in shows past, but he was still a total, effortless hotass. Also, when he knelt on the stage to play Desert Song my brain possibly melted out of my ears. In conclusion: Frank was fucking intense.
OKAY ON TO GWAY.
So, Gerard is my hero, and I mean that totally unironically. He fucking howled as a preface to House of Wolves. And it was a sexy, sexy howl, and also eerily realistic. I'm sorta worried about how long he might have practiced it and listened to tapes from Natural Geographic on the Timber Wolf. I can see him earnestly telling Frank "This is the Alpha Male! *howls* What do you think, is it too throaty?" and then Frank winds up having to stealthily smother Gerard with a pillow so he can get some motherfucking sleep, Jesus.
Also, at one point during the show, for reasons that escape me--he might have explained this, but what with the motherfucking chaos of the pit I missed it--Gerard draped a black washcloth over his head. o.O GERARD HOW SO INEXPLICABLE. I have some truly awesome pictures of this, wherein Gerard looks like even more of a cult leader whackjob than usual, waving his arms and conducting the gleeful crowd. I also have a really excellent one of Mikeyway making a WTF face and Frank pointedly ignoring the washcloth shenanigans. GERARD. WHY DID THIS MAKE ME LOVE YOU MORE. I DON'T EVEN KNOW.
Also, okay, the absolute best moment of the entire night, for me, was when Gerard came right up to the stage in front of me (and, okay two other people) and fucking did this sultry pose and looked down and spit and I don't even know how to describe it but it was the HOTTEST THING OF MY LIFE. So fucking filthy. I may have had a sexual experience while jammed up under some anonymous person's armpit. Sad, but true.
Unfortunately, because I am an idiot I didn't actually have anything to eat all day but coffee, diet coke, cigarettes, and a handful of cheetos, so naturally I got sick during My Way Home is Through You (which he dedicated to Lyn-Z, MY HEART YOU GUYS). I really, really didn't want to leave. Really. I was right next to the barrier and catwalk (WAIT UNTIL YOU GUYS SEE THE PICTURE I TOOK OF GERARD'S ASS. NOT THAT I OBJECTIFY HIM. BUT IT IS BITABLE, OKAY.) But I wound up having to get taken out. I choose to believe this was serendipitous, actually, because not only did I get to see firsthand how awesome MCR fans are (as soon as I started to crumple and swoon people were calling over security and holding me up and it was so fucking sweet, honestly--I was not able to say thank you then, BUT THANK YOU, RANDOM AWESOME PEOPLE), I also had a moment with Gerard, wherein our eyes met. He was all, I am so concerned for you! and I was like, I love you but I have to go vomit now, and then he was like, I totally understand. Seriously, guys, he looked all concerned. FOR ME. And also, I found out later in the bathroom that I looked like a zombie queen from Mars. WHICH CAN ONLY BE GOOD IN THIS CASE. GERARRRD. CALL ME.
Anyway, after about ten minutes, I returned to the pit and gradually wormed my way back up to the barrier. Not as close as before, but still pretty motherfucking close. I think one of the absolute best things about the show, for me, was how you could tell everyone on stage was completely thrilled to be up there. And not to be redundant and focus on Gerard, but damn. He spent most of the show doing gleearms. \o/ forever. The show ended with Cancer and Desert Song and Helena. God, and let me just take a moment to say how much fucking fun all the music was. I mean, part of the absolute delight of MCR is just seeing the boys, how campy and delighted and adorable they all are, but just in terms of how fantastic and rockable the music was, A++. The Sharpest Lives! HOUSE OF WOLVES! Helena! Mama! Sleep! I'm Not Okay was so fucking fun, and there was a moment when Gerard came up to Frank's mic and was all pay attention to me! TO ME! And Frank just continued to sex up his guitar, and Gerard gave up and went to pester Mikey. It was adorable.
And HEADFIRST FOR HALOS. GODDDD. BULLETS, BABIES. BULLETS. And Cemetery Drive, which is totally my soft spot from Revenge and uggghhh. I thought this review was going to be coherent but it's not. At all. Gerard at one point during the early half of the concert brought out this kid, a total adorable mini-Gerard who looked sort of bemused by the whole thing, and Gerard was so fucking proud. He was all, "this kid has so many dads!" and GERRAAARD. And we all told the kid hi, and then Gerard launched into Welcome to the Black Parade still out on the catwalk and staring up at him was really, eerily like a religious experience. GERARD. I have a video of Gerard on the catwalk singing Cancer and it's somehow so heartwrenching and yet filled with diva at the same time. HIS FACE. And Desert Song, god. Frank on his knees. DID I MENTION FRANK ON HIS KNEES.
And the end of the show, when Gerard was saying goodbye, and there was something about their next record being awesome and maybe involving cowboys? I am totally in favor of the Sheriff of Emotown making a record, I gotta say. "If this is the last show we play, stay alive." God, Gee. How are you so perfect? And then there was hugging and general adorableness and ugh, ugh ugh. Okay, I have to go look through all my pictures again and listen to Bullets. I'm pretending to be writing papers, but secretly I'm just listening to Halos over and over and sniffling. PAST SELF, YOU HAD IT SO GOOD.
In conclusion: GERARD MOTHERFUCKING WAY.
Next: So, apparently the way to make friends at a Panic show is to wear a Mikey Fucking Way shirt? Also, OMG THE HUSH BOYS TOUCHED ME. EEEEE.
