On March 22, 2013, My Chemical Romance ceased to exist.
A band that started in the mind of Gerard Way as a direct response to the 9/11 attacks - "The world changed that day, and the next day we set about trying to change the world" he explained in a statement in 2021 - the next 12 years would see them rise from the underbelly of the New Jersey hardcore scene to the very top of the alternative pile. A global phenomenon that shifted a whole culture, even standing at the centre of a war on that said culture, the news hit like a freight train for more than just emo kids.
It hit the band just as hard.
"It was sad, like the passing of a family member," bassist Mikey Way told Kerrang! in 2013. "But over time, I got great joy and pleasure from reflecting. I was able to truly put on some songs and be like, ‘Wow, we really did something. We cracked the heavens.’"
And that is saying something. From taking post-hardcore to scrappy new places on 2004's Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge to bringing pomp, theatre and arena-baiting grandiose to the emo table with 2006's instantly classic The Black Parade, the band managed to rewrite the rulebook time after time during their tenure. Yet it was with 2010's Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys where things started to shift. An album that, despite still showing off the band's undeniable knack for penning an addictive chorus, wasn't scratching the same itches that were once being taken care of.
"When things start to succeed and go really well, that’s when a lot of people start to have an opinion, and that’s when you run into struggle," Gerard told The Guardian in 2019. "And after the success of The Black Parade, it turned out that everybody had a fucking opinion about what MCR should be. So it made it difficult to figure out what direction to take next. You get caught up in this trap of, ‘Is it ever gonna be good enough?’
To come off the back of a record about a cancer patient's journey to the afterlife with a narrative about colourful dystopian outsiders living in the California desert and fighting an evil corporation is quite the change of pace. But even more so when it's not what you actually want to be doing. Chefs in the kitchen, fingers in pies and everything in between.
"It wasn’t fun to make stuff any more," Gerard continues. "I think breaking up the band broke us out of that machine."
Though Danger Days turned out to be the band's final "official" record, that doesn't mean no other music was being made before or after it. Take Conventional Weapons, a collection of songs created around 2009 with the intent of having no overarching narrative or concept like the rest of the band's material, which was eventually drip-released throughout 2012. And in the aftermath of the record, there was talk of The Paper Kingdom, a project that Gerard saw as a means of returning to the darkness in which the band's early days had been inhabited.
Though never actually getting appropriately made, it was set to tell the tale of a group of parents in a support group, dealing with the loss of their children. As a means of making sense of such tragedy, they begin to make up a story of their departed offspring lost in the woods fighting off an evil witch. Told you it was dark.
"Because of Danger Days not capturing that culture like Black Parade had, it was only natural to retreat back into this really dark thing," Gerard explained in 2014. "I know I was bringing some pretty dark energy. I was mentally facing a really hard time in my life. I haven’t been that depressed since before I started the band. It’s really obvious why that happened. I felt very trapped. I went against what was in line with myself as an artist. And then I went, ‘I guess My Chem is super dark, so let’s go super dark’. Because that’s what people want, it’s what we do well. I think there was a part of me personally that was trying to recapture that Black Parade energy instead of doing what I always do, which is try to never recapture, always move forward. If that means you have to walk away from something, do it."
Yet within that exploration, there was a song that would, eventually, make it out of the woods. And that was Fake Your Death.
The song itself found its footing at the same time as the 2012 Stanley Cup Final between the Los Angeles Kings and New Jersey Devils, where the former won 4-2. Being in the studio and less fussed than the rest of the band when it came to sports, Gerard started piecing together the first parts of the track, before the rest of the band joined after the game, allowing those early snippets to blossom and bloom.
The result is something that feels as familiar as it does foreign. Hard to pin down, much like much of the band's discography. A trickle of piano, that would slot in nicely on The Black Parade but with a jauntiness that wouldn't sound out of place on a Springsteen track, bleeds into a mournful yet jovial refrain. Add in Queen-esque hand claps and searing guitar licks, and you have a curious little ditty. One that feels like it fits in with what you know about the band, yet also feels alien at the same time. In the context of the sessions that took place before The Paper Kingdom was disbanded and left to become urban legend, it's an outlier. But in the context of where it would end up, it took on a completely different sentiment.
On January 21 2014, ten months after the tear-stained announcement of their departure, the details of a greatest hits collection were revealed. May Death Never Stop You would collate the best of the best from the band's four full-lengths, alongside the official revealing of Fake Your Death as the opening song. A month later, it was released alongside a montage video showcasing every iteration MCR had taken, with the song serving as the soundtrack as the credits rolled.
It was then, via a stream of posts on Twitter, that Gerard would reveal the origins of the track, prompted by the fact that in the liner notes for the record, it was the only track which didn't have a written statement to accompany it. It was also a chance to explain how he felt about it now being a farewell rather than a part of something bigger.
"What was not so obvious at the time was that the song was, and would serve as, a eulogy for the band, though I should have known it from the lyrics," he admits. "I think internally I did, as I felt an odd sense of sadness and loss after hearing back the words on top of the music. I also felt a strange sense of pride in how honest it was, and could not remember a band recording a song of this nature, being so self-aware. Ending felt like something honest, and honest always feels like something new."
He continues by stating that, even though it felt this way, it didn't make the final farewell any easier. That, in admitting that the band is coming to an end and this being its final bow, may have felt right, but that doesn't make it any easier to understand and absorb.
"So it will exist, and it is no cowardly act to release something of this nature, but a service to those who believed in a band that did not compromise, and a wave goodbye to all. And yes, it is fucking heartbreaking.
"And while I don’t believe the lyrics of the chorus today- I did at the time, which to me is a core ingredient to the music of MCR. And it is through that belief, and yours, that we were able to achieve many beautiful things.""
After five years of questions about whether there would be a comeback, Halloween 2019 was when the MCR flag started waving again. An announcement that they would return to the stage on December 20 at the Shrine in Los Angeles. Following delays brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic, that one show then materialised into an extensive and emotional world tour through 2022. On top of playing the many classics, songs from Conventional Weapons had their first-ever airing at various stops, with fans in all four corners of the world floored by the chance to hear songs they never thought they would. The set also included The Foundations Of Decay, a surprise-released six-minute epic unveiled in May of 2022, that shifted the concept of what the band have been up to behind the scenes. It also signalled that Fake Your Death was no longer the band's final curtain call.
On October 17, 2022, it would get its moment in the spotlight. Though it received no speech, no consideration for what it once meant, the weight of it all was clear. Though from a place where it once read as a eulogy, it now possessed a different sort of power. A song written about the end, never intended to be a song about the end, is now just a part of the furniture. A member of the gang. Though the sentiment that was put upon it back in 2014 remains just as relevant.
Because, as Gerard stated in a blog post in 2013, the band, and all that it has done, and will now continue to do, is infinite. It means whatever it needs to for whoever needs it. That is the case with the songs that they put their name to, as well. The meaning of the words may change, but they will always be the same words. And in whatever context they are delivered, they will always stand for exactly what they need to.
"My Chemical Romance is done," he wrote. "But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band - it is an idea."
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