I should start with a confession: I am not, nor have I ever been, an emo kid. No eyeliner, no black fingernail polish, no dramatic AIM screen name that sounds like a vampire’s diary entry. I came to My Chemical Romance’s 2025 Fenway Park show as a curious outsider—a civilian entering the eyeliner war zone without armor. And yet, by the time the night was over, I found myself shouting lyrics I didn’t even know I knew, pumping my fist in solidarity with thousands of people who did wear eyeliner, and wondering if I should maybe invest in some black nail polish after all.
Because here’s the thing: My Chemical Romance doesn’t care if you’re an emo veteran or just a casual observer. They’re here to put on a show, and holy eyeliner, do they ever deliver.
The Grand Entrance: “The End.” (No, Really)
The irony of opening a show with a song called “The End.” was not lost on me or anyone else. As the lights went down, the first few ominous notes rang out and Fenway collectively lost its mind. The anticipation was like waiting for a roller coaster to drop—only this one came with confetti cannons, guitar feedback, and a frontman dressed like a ringmaster who might also be your therapist.
Gerard Way emerged like a gothic prophet, strutting onto the stage in a crimson jacket that said, “Yes, I am here to save your soul and maybe ruin your mascara.” It was pure theater from the jump. They tore through “The End.” with the kind of conviction that makes you wonder if maybe you are at the end of something—your cynicism, perhaps?
And just like that, they segued straight into “Dead!” and the place went bananas. I’m talking strangers hugging, teenagers screaming like their Wi-Fi just went out, and me grinning like an idiot because apparently I do know the chorus to this one.
The Middle Mayhem: Bangers on Bangers
After that explosive one-two punch, MCR went full throttle with “This Is How I Disappear” and “The Sharpest Lives,” songs that sound like they were written specifically to make your heart beat 20% faster. Fenway’s historic green walls felt like they might actually peel off and float into the Charles River from the sheer force of the crowd.
Then came “Welcome to the Black Parade.” You could feel the collective inhale as the iconic piano intro started. Even if you’ve somehow avoided this song for nearly two decades, you know it. It’s practically encoded in our DNA at this point. The slow build, the triumphant “When I was a young boy…”—it’s emo’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and it hit like a freight train. I looked around and saw dads singing along with their teenage kids, twenty-somethings sobbing, and at least one guy in a Red Sox jersey air-conducting the chorus like a deranged maestro.
The band barely paused before launching into “I Don’t Love You,” “House of Wolves,” and “Cancer.” Each song landed like a perfectly aimed dagger—equal parts melodrama and catharsis. “Cancer,” in particular, was devastating. Gerard delivered it with a trembling vulnerability that made 35,000 people go completely silent. Even the beer vendors seemed to stop mid-pour.
Theater Kid Heaven: “Mama,” “Sleep,” and Other Gothic Delights
If My Chemical Romance were just a straightforward rock band, this show would still be great. But they’re not—they’re theater kids with guitars, and nowhere was that clearer than during “Mama.” Featuring a “Dagger” outro and a guest appearance by Charlotte Kelso as “Sylvia,” it felt like a Tim Burton musical staged on a baseball field. The pyrotechnics, the costume flourishes, the melodramatic gestures—it was deliciously over the top, and the crowd ate it up like free funnel cake.
They followed it with “Sleep,” complete with a moody “Big Sky” intro, and then “Teenagers,” which turned Fenway into the world’s largest sarcastic pep rally. “They’re gonna clean up your looks,” the crowd shouted, as if threatening every guidance counselor in a 50-mile radius.
“Disenchanted” arrived with a haunting intro called “The Button Pressed,” and it was a highlight of the night—aching, grand, and somehow both sad and uplifting. If this song doesn’t make you want to stare dramatically out of a train window, I don’t know what will.
Closing (and Not Closing) Statements
The main set wrapped up with “Famous Last Words” and an “End.” reprise, because of course it did. But MCR wasn’t done yet. Oh no. The encore was basically a second set disguised as a victory lap.
First came “Blood,” performed with a wicked grin that made the macabre lyrics feel like a winking inside joke. Then a brief B-stage detour with cellist Clarice Jensen performing “From A to B”—a moody interlude that gave everyone time to catch their breath and maybe question their life choices.
And then, the chaos resumed. “Vampire Money” made its tour debut, sending fans into a frenzy. “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” was dedicated to a fan named Ro who met the band through Make-A-Wish, turning the stadium into one giant, sweaty therapy session. I’m not going to lie—when the entire crowd screamed the title in unison, I felt something in my cold, eyeliner-free heart crack open a little.
The encore just kept going: “Summertime,” “Our Lady of Sorrows” (dedicated to Nate Piekos), “Planetary (GO!),” and “War Beneath the Rain,” which Gerard dedicated to their first Boston booking agent. Each dedication added a personal touch, like the band was inviting us all into their extended family of misfits.
By the time they blasted through “Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na),” “Helena,” “Give ’Em Hell, Kid,” and finally “Vampires Will Never Hurt You,” it felt like the emotional equivalent of running a marathon while wearing a feather boa. My voice was gone, my feet hurt, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
Observations from a Non-Emo Interloper
Here’s the thing about My Chemical Romance: they are absurdly good at what they do. This isn’t just a nostalgia act cashing in on old hits. They play like a band with something to prove, and they prove it with every song.
Gerard Way remains a magnetic frontman, equal parts rock star, motivational speaker, and chaos goblin. He commands the stage with a mix of campy drama and genuine sincerity that makes you believe every word, no matter how apocalyptic. Guitarists Ray Toro and Frank Iero trade riffs like they’re trying to out-awesome each other, while bassist Mikey Way keeps everything grounded with lines so tight you could bounce a quarter off them.
And the crowd? Forget it. I’ve been to plenty of big stadium shows, but this was different. The connection between band and audience felt almost supernatural. Emo kids, aging punks, confused parents, and random baseball fans all united in a sweaty, joyful mass of fist-pumping catharsis. It didn’t matter if you were wearing black lipstick or a Fenway cap—everyone belonged.
The Funny Stuff I Couldn’t Ignore
Because I’m me, I noticed some things:
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The merch lines were longer than the beer lines. That’s not a typo. People will wait 45 minutes for a hoodie with a bleeding heart on it.
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At least three separate people offered me eyeliner “for the vibe.” I declined, but only because I didn’t trust myself to apply it without poking an eye out.
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A guy next to me screamed every lyric while simultaneously eating a Fenway Frank. That’s talent.
Also, shoutout to the fan who brought a giant cardboard cutout of Gerard Way’s face from the Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge era. It was both terrifying and inspiring.
Final Thoughts: Maybe I’m a Little Emo After All
Walking out of Fenway, I realized something: My Chemical Romance isn’t about eyeliner, or black fingernails, or even sadness. It’s about community. It’s about feeling big emotions in a world that often tells you to stay small. It’s about shouting your pain, your joy, your everything into the night and hearing thousands of voices shout back.
I came in as a skeptic. I left as a convert. Maybe I’ll never be a full-time emo kid—but after a night like that, I’m definitely emo-adjacent. And honestly? That feels pretty great.
The Full Setlist (AKA The Emotional Gauntlet)
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The End.
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Dead!
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This Is How I Disappear
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The Sharpest Lives
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Welcome to the Black Parade (followed by “The Election”)
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I Don’t Love You
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House of Wolves
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Cancer
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Mama (with “Dagger” outro; Charlotte Kelso as “Sylvia”)
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Sleep (with “The Big Sky” intro)
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Teenagers
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Disenchanted (with “The Button Pressed” intro)
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Famous Last Words
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The End. (Reprise)
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Blood
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From A to B (Clarice Jensen solo on B-stage)
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Vampire Money (Tour debut)
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I’m Not Okay (I Promise) (dedicated to Ro)
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Summertime
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Our Lady of Sorrows (dedicated to Nate Piekos)
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Planetary (GO!)
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War Beneath the Rain (dedicated to Andrew Govatsos)
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Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)
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Helena
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Give ’Em Hell, Kid
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Vampires Will Never Hurt You
Epilogue: Eyeliner Optional, Joy Mandatory
By the end of the night, Fenway Park was a glittery, sweat-soaked cathedral of catharsis. I may not have worn eyeliner, but I walked out with something better: a sense that, for a few hours, everyone—emo kid or not—was part of the same gloriously weird family.
My Chemical Romance didn’t just play a concert. They built a world, set it on fire, and invited us all to dance in the ashes. And honestly? I’d gladly let them burn my heart all over again.