My Chemical Romance's Disenchanted

I've given myself the task of writing about one song a week for 2024 because, well, I think it'd be fun.

My Chemical Romance's Disenchanted

"Well, no. Frankly that's a terrible idea. I'm not even a My Chemical Romance fan."

"Yeah, but it's a great song."

"I already wrote about an MCR song in ... let's see, the 28th of January. From the same album, no less. There's only 52 weeks in a year and there's a billion other songs worth writing about. I mean, it's July 22nd, which is George Clinton's birthday, and I'm having the worst writer's block already."

"Yeah, well, yeah, but."

"But what?"

"'Well I was there on the day / when they sold the cause for the Queen...'"

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

"'...and when the lights all went out, / we watched our lives on the screens; / I hate the ending myself, / but it started with an alright scene.'"

"I get the point that you're driving at: the use of colloquial language and dramatic imagery, AND threading this through a story that doesn't feel contrived at all, are all masterful touches to a song for a band that shouldn't be this good.

"I've told you this a million times: it's not my fault I hadn't heard Disenchanted while I was writing about I Don't Love You. In fact, I heard it for the first time literally when I was putting the last few touches for the review. It actually deserves more of a spotlight than the other song, but it would be absurd - absurd! - if I just decided to dickride MCR again."

"'It was the roar of the crowd / that gave me heartache to sing, / it was a lie when they smiled / and said "You won't feel a thing", / and as we ran from the cops / we laughed so hard it would sting.'"

"Yes, the juxtaposition between three different scenes - one in the present, two in the past, possibly during the same event - is so artfully done and establishes the poignant idea that life is short and ephemeral and admixed with feelings of anger and joy, which goes into the very heart of emo itself -"

"'If I'm so wro-o-o-ong / how can you listen all night long? / Now will it matter long after I'm gone / because you never learned a goddamn thing.'"

"Which goes into the majestic sweep of that memorable line: You're just a saaaaad song, with nothing to say / about a lifelooooooong wait for a hospital stay. I know what you're trying to do, you're trying to make me think of that incredible drama between life and death, the fundamental drama of life, of making our own lives worth living that so many philosophers have spilled so much ink over, which is such an existential contemplation you're shocked that a freaking emo band even approached the topic AND executed it perfectly. I think that's the part that bothers me the most: I'm actually astounded My Chemical Romance could even approach such a topic with any kind of subtlety and originality, and so I, rightly, think I should reorient my perspective on the band and study them a little. But I've got a million other songs to write about."

"Have you heard another musician ever tackle on that subject before?"

"Oh man. Maybe Leonard Cohen. In Tower of Song, my favorite song ever. That's how small the club is. Obviously Leonard handled it with what can only be called the perfect combination of humor and wit and melancholy, but Leonard's approach, as befits him, is poetic; Romance takes a prosaic approach, very literary, painting the frustrations of the narrator and connecting it to our cosmological origin in the universe.

"What's important is subtlety, more than anything; too much drama, and it becomes painfully human; too much sadness, and it becomes too specific; then there's the correct placement of all of these elements - the specific, the subject's life, and the general, their angest - such that the audience can correctly come to a more-or-less correct interpretation of the song's meaning. It's extremely clever to juxtapose this whole pity party to an untimely death. It's a balancing act that eludes so many great songwriters, and it's accomplished in, like, this Queen rip-off.

"Well, yeah, I'm just gonna throw that out there: clearly there are similarities to Bohemian Rhapsody. One is that we don't really like the protagonist. Yeah, I mean he's dying, you can feel bad for them, but you don't like them because they hate everyone, mostly themself. In Rhapsody, we don't care much for the guy who killed a man. But as we come to understand the person and their struggle with grief, our opinion of them doesn't ameliorate, but we feel that fundamental connection to other human beings and their pain, regardless of what they've done.

"It's also funny how frivolous both songs are. Nothing suggests depth in either song, but both are characterized by having the right amount of detail. Oh, and the belting of both singers of their respective bands. Of particular mention is Way's singing You're such a sa-a-a-ad song, a clear cry of agony.

"You know, though I compared it to Bohemian Rhapsody, it's more reminiscent of The Clash's All The Young Punks, which was a withering critique of the then-rock-n'-roll scene - it's way worse now, Joe! - but also nostalgic towards a more naive past. Of particular interest is the line: All you young punks, / laugh your life, 'cause there ain't much to cry for, / all you young cunts, / live it now, 'cause there ain't much to die for. They're songs about wasted youth and the joy and vulnerability that comes from innocence. Romance spoke for emo what Clash spoke for punk; Clash, for all their political zeal, caused only a revolution in music - though not a small achievement by any means - and one wonders if Romance could, though that possibility becomes vanishingly small as time goes by. Still, we have the embers of that potential here, distilled into Disenchanted.

"We've spent this entire time talking about My Chemical Romance that there's simply not enough time to talk about George Clinton's Computer Games. Which works for me I guess because the only interesting observation I had was comparing Clinton's computer, which could "out-Woody a Pecker", to Robert McNamara's infamous computer that calculated the Vietnam War's "success". In any case, happy birthday, George."