Excerpt from SPIN magazine
Here's an excerpt from the SPIN magazine cover story:
My Chemical Romance Bounce Back from the Brink
By Josh Eells
"You want to take the tour?" Way asks, an unlit Marlboro between his lips. The first stop is his office, stacked floor to ceiling with comic books, novels, and DVDs. On the desk next to his computer there's a life-size replica of a Boba Fett helmet, and hidden in a closet somewhere, a collection of droids. Way grew up in New Jersey, in an area where riding bikes wasn't safe, so he and Mikey had to invent their own fun, acting out Star Wars movies (usually The Empire Strikes Back, on account of the snow) and episodes of G.I. Joe. Gerard even remembers sending off sketches for action figures to the good people at Hasbro. (They never responded.)
Outside the bathroom -- where a potty-training toilet sits on the floor -- Way has to swerve to avoid stepping on a stuffed Elmo doll. In May 2009, Lindsey, who plays bass with electro-punks Mindless Self Indulgence, gave birth to their first kid, a daughter named Bandit Lee. Way says he loves everything about fatherhood, even changing diapers, with just one exception. "I'm not great at giving baths, because it makes me nervous. I don't want to bang her head. Lindsey calls me Safety Inspector. My whole life I was protective of Mikey because I felt that was my job, and that's totally transferred to Bandit."
For his day gig, he's the same way. In My Chem's music, Way casts himself as a kind of safety inspector of emotions, plugging baby-proof stoppers into the electrical sockets of adolescence. On The Black Parade he dubbed himself "the savior of the broken, the beaten, and the damned," and he established for the band the modest goal of rescuing the world. "I thought if we made an album that tried to change the world, or give it hope, it would really happen," Way says, cheerfully. "But all people found was death and destruction and misery and self-hate. I learned that the world doesn't want to be saved, and it will fucking punch you in the face if you try."
We make our way downstairs, through the master bedroom (fireplace, unmade bed, framed black-and-white photo of a romantic-looking couple splattered by blood), and into the backyard. It's a magnificent place, with a stunning canyon view. "I never really come out here," he says a little sheepishly as we poke past a small grove of orange trees, the fruit overripe and unpicked. Near the bottom of the hill there's another tree, boasting an oddly shaped green fruit. Way stops short. "I've never even seen this before." He plucks one and takes a bite. "It's an apple!"
For a guy who once famously sang, on their breakthrough single, "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)," that he was "not o-fucking-kay," Way seems…well, pretty okay. I ask him what he'd say now to the kid who wrote that song, and he laughs. "I would say, 'Fucking lighten up, dude! Don't torture yourself. You're going to meet an awesome girl and have a daughter, and when that happens, make sure you're fucking happy.' " But these days, he's charmingly self-mocking about the idea of "trying to win the world over with a musical, wearing marching-band uniforms, and singing about our feelings."
In 2004, just as the band was getting huge, Way had a bad night of boozing and pill-popping in Japan and decided to quit drugs and alcohol cold turkey. Recently, though, he's been enjoying the occasional drink. It's not about the high, so much as loosening his own self-imposed restraints. "[Sobriety] became such a thing," he says. "It was so goddamn important to everyone but me. You start to feel like the two guys in the Smiths who wanted to eat cheeseburgers but had to pretend not to. I understand that kids look up to me, that some people might have gotten sober because of me. But it's not an important thing for me anymore."
You're no one's savior, you mean.
"Hell no." He pauses. "But that was a fun image to play with. Because even if you miss the mark, you're probably gonna be a pretty remarkable person. Shoot for savior, and end up being rad."
Check out the full interview in the December 2010 issue of SPIN, on newsstands now -- or order your copy below.
My Chemical Romance Bounce Back from the Brink
By Josh Eells
"You want to take the tour?" Way asks, an unlit Marlboro between his lips. The first stop is his office, stacked floor to ceiling with comic books, novels, and DVDs. On the desk next to his computer there's a life-size replica of a Boba Fett helmet, and hidden in a closet somewhere, a collection of droids. Way grew up in New Jersey, in an area where riding bikes wasn't safe, so he and Mikey had to invent their own fun, acting out Star Wars movies (usually The Empire Strikes Back, on account of the snow) and episodes of G.I. Joe. Gerard even remembers sending off sketches for action figures to the good people at Hasbro. (They never responded.)
Outside the bathroom -- where a potty-training toilet sits on the floor -- Way has to swerve to avoid stepping on a stuffed Elmo doll. In May 2009, Lindsey, who plays bass with electro-punks Mindless Self Indulgence, gave birth to their first kid, a daughter named Bandit Lee. Way says he loves everything about fatherhood, even changing diapers, with just one exception. "I'm not great at giving baths, because it makes me nervous. I don't want to bang her head. Lindsey calls me Safety Inspector. My whole life I was protective of Mikey because I felt that was my job, and that's totally transferred to Bandit."
For his day gig, he's the same way. In My Chem's music, Way casts himself as a kind of safety inspector of emotions, plugging baby-proof stoppers into the electrical sockets of adolescence. On The Black Parade he dubbed himself "the savior of the broken, the beaten, and the damned," and he established for the band the modest goal of rescuing the world. "I thought if we made an album that tried to change the world, or give it hope, it would really happen," Way says, cheerfully. "But all people found was death and destruction and misery and self-hate. I learned that the world doesn't want to be saved, and it will fucking punch you in the face if you try."
We make our way downstairs, through the master bedroom (fireplace, unmade bed, framed black-and-white photo of a romantic-looking couple splattered by blood), and into the backyard. It's a magnificent place, with a stunning canyon view. "I never really come out here," he says a little sheepishly as we poke past a small grove of orange trees, the fruit overripe and unpicked. Near the bottom of the hill there's another tree, boasting an oddly shaped green fruit. Way stops short. "I've never even seen this before." He plucks one and takes a bite. "It's an apple!"
For a guy who once famously sang, on their breakthrough single, "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)," that he was "not o-fucking-kay," Way seems…well, pretty okay. I ask him what he'd say now to the kid who wrote that song, and he laughs. "I would say, 'Fucking lighten up, dude! Don't torture yourself. You're going to meet an awesome girl and have a daughter, and when that happens, make sure you're fucking happy.' " But these days, he's charmingly self-mocking about the idea of "trying to win the world over with a musical, wearing marching-band uniforms, and singing about our feelings."
In 2004, just as the band was getting huge, Way had a bad night of boozing and pill-popping in Japan and decided to quit drugs and alcohol cold turkey. Recently, though, he's been enjoying the occasional drink. It's not about the high, so much as loosening his own self-imposed restraints. "[Sobriety] became such a thing," he says. "It was so goddamn important to everyone but me. You start to feel like the two guys in the Smiths who wanted to eat cheeseburgers but had to pretend not to. I understand that kids look up to me, that some people might have gotten sober because of me. But it's not an important thing for me anymore."
You're no one's savior, you mean.
"Hell no." He pauses. "But that was a fun image to play with. Because even if you miss the mark, you're probably gonna be a pretty remarkable person. Shoot for savior, and end up being rad."
Check out the full interview in the December 2010 issue of SPIN, on newsstands now -- or order your copy below.