SHOW REVIEW: My Chemical Romance Turns Fenway Park Into The Black Parade
Fenway Park | Boston, Massachusetts | September 7
Of the many times I have walked into Fenway Park, this time felt different. It did not feel like a ballgame was going to happen in the iconic stadium but rather it felt like stepping into a polished culture. Fans were dressed to the nines in themed outfits and beautiful makeup, flooding the halls in the iconic ballpark. Security all over was handing out signage that I later found out was to vote on execution.
If My Chemical Romance is not a band you have given a vast and fair chance, we have something in common. The music is something I've listened to over the years but it wasn't until this show that I learned how deep the lore really goes–so while I do not know all of it, I will do my best to explain everything I saw.
Even before they took the stage, the band became The Black Parade, a group forced to play under the rule of a dictator whose presence was felt more than seen. His hands, projected on a massive screen, loomed over the performance, applauding or tightening into fists depending on the scene. The symbolism was blunt, but that was the point: To be a symbol of authoritarian propaganda.
Everyone loves an interactive show, and this was just that. From the moment we walked in, we were handed YEA and NAY signs, the kind of props you might expect at a rally rather than a concert. Gerard Way used them early in the show, asking us to decide the fate of prisoners accused of ridiculous crimes. The vote was rigged and the outcome was inevitable. Still, when the firing squad came and the prisoners were put to death, the crowd was overly enthused by the result of the vote.
Musically, the band (as I was told by many) sounded as good as always. Vocalist Gerard Way came out with a white face and scratches, fully dressed in costume as was the rest of the band. He powered through hit songs like “Welcome to the Black Parade,” “Teenagers,” and “Famous Last Words.” Pyrotechnics, skits, and interludes only amplified the songs’ drama. At one point, Way’s character was stabbed on stage, his limp body puppeteered before a climactic explosion. Theatrics aside, hearing tens of thousands of people sing pretty much every song on the entire setlist in unison was just as powerful.
After the first act, the tone shifted. A cello solo by Clarice Jensen bridged the transition, giving the band time to change out of costume. When they returned, they were no longer fictional prisoners but themselves. From deep cuts like “Our Lady of Sorrows” to anthems like “I’m Not Okay (I Promise),” this second half of the set felt like a gift to fans who had stuck with them since their early days. I would be surprised if anyone within five miles of the venue couldn't hear fans singing “Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na).” “Vampires Will Never Hurt You” closed out the night with Way making note that the show was under what looked to be a full moon, fitting for the atmosphere of the night's show.
Review by Mia Palazzo | Instagram