Читать онлайн «The True Lives of My Chemical Romance: The Definitive Biography»

The first time I met My Chemical Romance, we were in New York. It was August 2004, a few months after their second album Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge had been released. Though the record had been out a little while, it had yet to make them famous. That would arrive in the coming months, but back then they were poised and on the brink.

The city was hot and muggy, and our photo shoot was on the shoreline of the Hudson River. The New Jersey where they grew up was outlined behind them, the bustle and energy of New York stood before them, almost like a metaphor for the way their career would take off from that point.

Gerard Way, chain-smoking, was fascinated with what the photographer Tony Wooliscroft was looking for. The singer was wearing the cheap black suit and striped black and white tie that was his uniform back then. It was the same suit he had worn all across the Warped Tour that summer, the same suit he had performed, drunk and flown across the world in for months. It did not smell good. But it looked fantastic. Alongside his band, in jeans and T-shirts next to him, he pulled pose after pose. He looked, I remember thinking at the time, like a star.

Mikey Way, Gerard’s brother, was quiet that day. He fooled around with drummer Bob Bryar, who had been a member of the band for only a matter of days at that point.

As the photo shoot finished, a great clap of thunder rolled luxuriously through the sky. A torrential summer downpour burst across the city. Caught out in it, we got soaked. We ran for cabs and I ended up sitting next to Gerard as we drove to my hotel for the interview. That was a mistake. New York became humid in the rain, and the taxi heated up quickly. Gerard’s jacket began to steam: it reeked of sweat, of booze, of backstages and cigarettes; it smelled of the dirt of touring, the stench of truck stops and the rottenness of the road.