The Black Parade: A

Think you know everything there is to know about My Chemical Romance, that hugely successful emo-metal band behind such tedious, drippy ballads as "Helina" and "Ghost of You"? I'm here to tell you that you ain't heard nothing yet. On this third studio album, a veritable explosion of talent (supposedly "made" as a debut album by MCR alter-ego The Black Parade), MCR has revamped their image to the point of deletion. In place of jet-black hair of lead-singer/writer Gerard Way is a new, shorn, bleached blonde 'do. That same theory of experimentation carries over to The Black Parade and what results is the glorious equivalent of a shot of Jack Daniels: it sears your nerves and leaves you with a slow, sinfully good burn.

Cosinder the opening tracks on the album (those that set the stage for the fall and death of the unnamed, cancerous protagonist). On "To The End", Way ravages and snarls his way through a claustrophobic melody about a suicide attempt at a wedding and his recklessness and abandon are addictive (say goodbye to the vows you take/the hearts you break/and all the cyanide you drank). Immediately following is a track so gleeful in its deprication of emo-rock that who isn't surprised it's entitled "Dead!"?

Evolving also is Way's talent as a frontman. His soulful mourning for a lost-lover ("How I Dissapear") and swan-song ("Disenchanted") tackle wildly different emotions and materials, two things above and beyond the nature of a regular "emo band". It is a testament then to MCR's power that they handle both with strength, compassion, intelligence. To say it is compelling to hear would be an understatement. The band's dense, dark, vibrant arrangements manage to astound as well. There is great arena-rock ("Welcome to the Black
Parade") and snappy, rollicking fun ("Teenagers") both in the same package.

The highlights of the album are unforgettable. "Mama" - our hero's letter to his hated, estranged parent - is so darkly hilarious, so emotional, so powerful that the moment that Liza Minelli shows up to contribute her husky voice it's as though all the stars have aligned. "The Sharpest Lives" exerts a smiliar enthrall. The crashing beats hook you from the start and the sociopathic charm ("Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands/Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands Romeo") keep you there. And who could forget the song's middle feast? "Welcome to the Black Parade" is both a soaring tribute to "Bohemian Rhapsody" and a musical revolution all its own.

Hopefully, My Chemical Romance doesn't revert to it's old ways of emoting and soul-sobbing. After having a taste of what they can really do when they put their minds to it, I doubt I would be able to stand such tastless sludge. After hearing those parting words of the album ("Nothing you can say can stop me going home") though, I'm pretty sure that won't be the case. MCR, let us hope, has ascended to its place as a rock powerhouse.