Music Teaches People… I Know What the American National Anthem Sounds Like.

  The steady hum of my laptop ripping Danger Days is incredibly comforting. Almost as much as listening to it in bed at six in the morning is…

  I have a cold, okay, and it’s my alarm.

  There’s no point in reviewing the album, because a) most people reading this already have and love it, and b) everyone else in the universe did when it went on YouTube. Instead, I have some questions for the band:

  • What’s up with the titchy lyrics in the booklet? I have to hold it up to the light when I want to check I’m not mishearing Gerard’s screaming.
  • Is the case supposed to break within a day of owning it? Actually, its record is better than Bullets’, that one fell apart ten minutes after I bought it.
  • Does Bob get royalties for the songs he’s credited as writing?
  • Who decided to sell it for ten quid starting price? Not that anyone’s complaining or anything. Only this is the first time I’ve ever paid full price for a CD and I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t £15.99.
  • Can you translate the Japanese on Party Poison for us uneducated people who can only speak English? Please?!

  You know, I remember when Party Poison was called Death Before Disco, when it got put on the Internet after MCR’s shows at The Roxy. I’d try to make that sound all sentimental, but it was summer 2009…

  I also don’t get to reminisce about being one of the 5000 people at the Hammersmith Apollo to hear Planetary (GO!) before everyone else, because it was only a month ago.

  Can I gloat about the irony of wearing a t-shirt that says ‘I ♥ Steve, Righ?’ to the show instead?



The Word is So Screwed Up it Isn’t Even Funny

  Woah. There was me having a bit of a bad day, and I go on Twitter and think, “Why is Frank Iero thanking people for their congratulations? They couldn’t have found a new drummer this quickly. We don’t want a new drummer.” Then I scrolled down and saw that there was a new blog on the MCR site.

  I am so happy right now! This is me sharing feelings, by the way, enjoy it why it lasts. Frank and his wife (I think her name is Jamia) deserve everything they’re getting this year. One kid is a huge deal, but twins? Bloody hell. They are going to shred. It’s like, the next generation of artists and rockstars are getting born these past couple of years, all to artists and rockstars who are awesome enough to deserve it.

  I have nothing to add to this, just congratulations Frankie and Jamia. It is an honour to share your name, Frank. Keep up the new shit god-damn it. If I ever have a band that’s half as epic as MCR, I will have made some brilliant music.