Mind. Blown.
This song. I honestly didn't know what to make of it at my first listen. I loved the opening, immediately. It made me feel like I was standing in front of a dark stage and they were going to come out in the very next second -- that big feeling, you know? The one where you want to hold your breath and scream all at once, and you can't do both (laws of nature pfft) so all you can do is smile so wide it's likely to break your face.
But then I stumbled, because all of sudden it sounded like 30 Seconds to Mars, and then it sounded like some pop punk band from a summer festival tour and then Gerard was singing like Kyosuke Himura and...there were too many echoes of everything else I had heard and I couldn't find My Chem in it. I liked what I was hearing, don't get me wrong, but...
So I listened to it again.
That gave me enough of a handle on it: I didn't know what it was yet, but I knew it was good, and I wanted to listen to it more. That was enough, and it was very late, so I went to bed.
But I wanted to listen to it again, right away, it was already in my head and so just as I used to do when I was a teenager, I put in the headphones and lay there in the dark and lost myself in the layers of sounds.
See, I was all "how is NaNaNa different, it still fits in with the MCR I know, it still has that sound, what are all those reviewers talking about?" and all of a sudden here was The Only Hope For Me Is You, and holy hell, it's DIFFERENT. I was literally left befuddled. Happy, but befuddled.
I read a book a long time ago, written by a musician who just happened to also be a neuroscientist, all about what music does to our brains. The part I remember the most is that the music we like to listen to becomes a part of us. Our brains actually rewrite themselves to accomodate the frequencies and harmonies and tempos. That's why new music sometimes takes a few listens, we're not recognizing it on a quantum level. We have to teach ourselves to hear it. We have to incorporate it into our neurons.
That's what I did last night, and again today. I ate the song. I made it a part of me, and now I can see it, now I can hear it. This is My Chem. It's different, it really is something new and doesn't quite fit, but my mind recognizes it now.
And isn't that amazing? They found a new language to be My Chem in, and now we're learning it too. It makes me so excited for the album, more than before, because now I get it, now I understand: this truly is uncharted territory, and we're the first ones on the path they've blazoned. I don't feel like a consumer, I don't feel like they made a commodity I've purchased. This feels like something we're particpating in, each with our own part, but we're all on this exploration together, somehow.
Maybe we once marched alongside the Black Parade, but now we're Killjoys. This isn't about following anymore, this is about listening to that rebellious spark within and giving it ferocious life. The guys did that with this album, and now it's our turn. We can be the bombs they have set alight.
Let's make some noise, even if we don't know what it is we're doing. Just let's do it. The aftermath is secondary.
But then I stumbled, because all of sudden it sounded like 30 Seconds to Mars, and then it sounded like some pop punk band from a summer festival tour and then Gerard was singing like Kyosuke Himura and...there were too many echoes of everything else I had heard and I couldn't find My Chem in it. I liked what I was hearing, don't get me wrong, but...
So I listened to it again.
That gave me enough of a handle on it: I didn't know what it was yet, but I knew it was good, and I wanted to listen to it more. That was enough, and it was very late, so I went to bed.
But I wanted to listen to it again, right away, it was already in my head and so just as I used to do when I was a teenager, I put in the headphones and lay there in the dark and lost myself in the layers of sounds.
See, I was all "how is NaNaNa different, it still fits in with the MCR I know, it still has that sound, what are all those reviewers talking about?" and all of a sudden here was The Only Hope For Me Is You, and holy hell, it's DIFFERENT. I was literally left befuddled. Happy, but befuddled.
I read a book a long time ago, written by a musician who just happened to also be a neuroscientist, all about what music does to our brains. The part I remember the most is that the music we like to listen to becomes a part of us. Our brains actually rewrite themselves to accomodate the frequencies and harmonies and tempos. That's why new music sometimes takes a few listens, we're not recognizing it on a quantum level. We have to teach ourselves to hear it. We have to incorporate it into our neurons.
That's what I did last night, and again today. I ate the song. I made it a part of me, and now I can see it, now I can hear it. This is My Chem. It's different, it really is something new and doesn't quite fit, but my mind recognizes it now.
And isn't that amazing? They found a new language to be My Chem in, and now we're learning it too. It makes me so excited for the album, more than before, because now I get it, now I understand: this truly is uncharted territory, and we're the first ones on the path they've blazoned. I don't feel like a consumer, I don't feel like they made a commodity I've purchased. This feels like something we're particpating in, each with our own part, but we're all on this exploration together, somehow.
Maybe we once marched alongside the Black Parade, but now we're Killjoys. This isn't about following anymore, this is about listening to that rebellious spark within and giving it ferocious life. The guys did that with this album, and now it's our turn. We can be the bombs they have set alight.
Let's make some noise, even if we don't know what it is we're doing. Just let's do it. The aftermath is secondary.