Review Summary: Bullets isn't just a good album, it's an incredibly painful and difficult one-- and that's the best compliment I can give a record.
Call me biased, but something about five pseudo-goths in a sweaty studio pounding out one psychotic rush of a post-hardcore record resulted in one of the best albums in the scene.
My Chemical Romance's 2002 debut album is by far their most overlooked; between the incredible energy that is Three Cheers, the iconic anthems that comprised Black Parade, and the ambitious concept work of Danger Days-- plus everything in between those-- Bullets simply seems to have gotten a little lost in the mix. To those of us who are passionate fans, it's a necessary classic, but to many others the genius that this is may not be evident. After all, taste is subjective; but there's something intense bubbling under the surface of these eleven songs of madness, and in the moments that it spills over the brink there's something truly unique.
Beginning with a haunting take on the classic guitar piece Romance seems a bit jarring when you put it into words-- but the crackling audio as the finger picking sounds out in a tentative silence proves to be just another upside of this strange and macabre collection. The more you listen to this record the easier it becomes to appreciate the manner in which the short piece establishes the tone, like a sort of rumbling calm before the storm, a buildup full of uneasiness and questions. You don't really know what to expect, but when the opening riff of Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For the Both of Us kicks in, that's when the dam breaks.
Immediately we get Gerard Way's distinct and iconoclastic vocals tearing into the atmosphere, completely unedited and completely raw as he pours a kind of hell-raising level of emotional intensity into the words he sings. Honey, This Mirror is the perfect song to open up the concept of the LP to come: fast, hard, and full of everything from fury to desperation, the disillusioned and insane story that this one song manages to build up leaves you hooked from the beginning. It's one of the best tracks on the album, but it's promise certainly doesn't fall flat in the half hour to come.
With Vampires Will Never Hurt You comes the fantasy element to Bullets's enigmatic concept, perhaps being the most blunt and clear of the songs in terms of it's connection to the storyline. The classic elements of vampire lore are evoked, the aesthetics are further elaborated from where we began in Honey, but unlike the previous track Vampires takes a little while to allow its madness to unfold. It begins haunting and somber, and by the first minute in we get the first taste of it; by the end Gerard's singing seems to meld with the very events of the plot, promising the listener he'll 'never let them hurt you' with a kind of conviction and authenticity that pulls you in.
By sharp contrast, Drowning Lessons begins with a more upbeat tone and carries it all the way through the track, even if the lyrics are as dark as its peers. The riffs and atmosphere on this track make it another highlight of Bullets, and the brief shimmering coda at the end of the song only serves to punctuate this. In comes Our Lady of Sorrows, not nearly as sad as most of these tracks but definitely one of the most angry: curses flying, rollicking drums, merciless guitars, it combines the heartfelt (albeit unconventionally so) cries of "take my ***ing hand" with the screaming rawness of a track that barely clocks in over two minutes in the heat of its intensity. Despite this, its chorus still leaves an indelible emotion mark on the listener, showing My Chem's trademark ability to mix ferocity and earnestness into one hell of a song.
Headfirst for Halos is memorable for its dramatic riff, and while it's a solid addition to the record it's far from the best. The song that follows, however, is an entirely different story: one of the earliest of MCR's musical creations, Skylines and Turnstiles is truly a song that captures the meaning behind it: real, honest, and powerful without overkill or sappiness, the song entails Way's emotional experience during and in the aftermath of 9/11-- of which he was in New York City to witness first hand. It's a piece of heartfelt songwriting that resonates especially once one is aware of the story behind it, and remains a classic creation from the band.
Early Sunsets Over Monroeville is an entirely different beast altogether. It's not the slightest bit aggressive, and it begins with a quiet and somber attitude that carries for most of the track-- that is, until it reaches its peak. This is where Way is perhaps the most incredible to hear in the entire record: rather that screaming, he's singing the words with a kind of brokenness that goes straight to the chest, tearing you up as he cries "Well, does anyone notice? But does anyone care?" and likewise until the song burns away with his desperate words. It's one of the greatest moments in any of their albums, and you're left shaken from it even into the next track-- though not for long, however. This Is the Best Day Ever brings back the angry intensity, this time with a distinct tone that the madness has firmly taken hold as the story begins to fade. Cubicles is not so much an aggressive penultimate as it is a carefully crafted one; it's not as emotionally heavy as some of its predecessors but it maintains an energy and sense of near-finality that makes it work perfectly.
Finally, My Chem strikes their final blow. Demolition Lovers begins with a deeply mysterious aura that makes it darker than anything else on the record already, but the pre-chorus lets us know that we're in for something far deeper; and that we are. The chorus is pained, hurt, loving, everything all at once in MCR's grand fashion; halfway through this six minute masterpiece a clear and unique instrumental separates the two halves until Gerard begins with the haunting refrain of "all we are is bullets, I mean this," all leading up to the incredible finale of guitars and drum beats and distortion, solos tumbling into the final rushing lyrics, Way's voice twisted and aching with tangible emotion you can practically taste. Demolition is perhaps a defining moment in My Chemical Romance's discography: a love song amidst violence and chaos, a finish of fireworks and a lullaby all in one devastating package. It's the perfect ending to a record that was already breaking your heart, and you come away from these 40 minutes with a heaviness as you process everything you just heard; or rather, experienced.
I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love transcends the boundaries of emo, of pop punk, of genre or scene. It's something that takes some time to click, to make true sense in your heart, but once it does it's something that never grows old. It's not so much simply timeless as it is a capturing of one moment in time, forever, that truly feels like lightning in a bottle. It was enough, anyway, to gain My Chemical Romance a rapidly growing fanbase and a major-label record deal; and in the end, it was the beginning of a career that would end up leaving a massive mark on alternative music.
