Leave it to to call their second full live album -- and their second live release during era -- Unlike 2007's mini-album, which patched together performances from 's fall 2006/winter 2007 dates in the U.K. And Europe, is a lavish CD/DVD affair chronicling two performances: the CD captures the band's October 7, 2007, Mexico City date -- their last as -- while the DVD features video of that show as well as their October 24, 2007, date at Maxwell's in their home state of New Jersey. 's grandiosity is only fitting, considering how elaborate was, and also fittingly, the Mexico City show is a song-for-song performance of that album -- the only difference is 'The Black Parade Is Dead,' where announces to the audience that this is 'the last performance of forever!' As on, the highlights happen when make these songs about death sound especially lively and theatrical.

Sounds especially searing, the satirical strut of 'Teenagers' has an extra swagger, and the vaudevillian unnamed fan favorite closing track -- now known as 'Blood' -- has an even more mischievous spring in its step, while hearing the audience sing back the words to 'Welcome to the Black Parade' and 'Mama' adds to their resonance. The Maxwell's date, which the band played to a very limited crowd of about 200 or so fans, draws just over half its set list from but also touches on peaks like 'Helena,' 'I'm Not Okay (I Promise),' and 'Thank You for the Venom.' Even if it seems thorough to the point of being overdone, is a completely appropriate -- and fan-pleasing -- final nail in 's coffin.

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For its ambition, The Black Parade echoes that other rock record of Oct., 2006, the Killers' Sam's Town: brash guitars, brassy horns and Gerard Way's adenoidal yelp drive a concept album about a cancer victim's ghost (or something). Unlike their Vegas brethren, though, MCR don't switch up styles in an effort to squeeze a little gravitas out of their glossy rock. On this follow up to their 2004 breakout, they're slam-dancing with the vaguely gothic, amphetamine-laced sound that brung 'em. See if you don't do a spit-take when the titular single storms the ramparts toward the end. Epic and gutsy. For its ambition, The Black Parade echoes that other rock record of Oct., 2006, the Killers' Sam's Town: brash guitars, brassy horns and Gerard Way's adenoidal yelp drive a concept album about a cancer victim's ghost (or something). Unlike their Vegas brethren, though, MCR don't switch up styles in an effort to squeeze a little gravitas out of their glossy rock.

On this follow up to their 2004 breakout, they're slam-dancing with the vaguely gothic, amphetamine-laced sound that brung 'em. See if you don't do a spit-take when the titular single storms the ramparts toward the end.

Epic and gutsy. For its ambition, The Black Parade echoes that other rock record of Oct., 2006, the Killers' Sam's Town: brash guitars, brassy horns and Gerard Way's adenoidal yelp drive a concept album about a cancer victim's ghost (or something). Unlike their Vegas brethren, though, MCR don't switch up styles in an effort to squeeze a little gravitas out of their glossy rock. On this follow up to their 2004 breakout, they're slam-dancing with the vaguely gothic, amphetamine-laced sound that brung 'em. Primer teksta novogodnego priglasheniya na meropriyatie. See if you don't do a spit-take when the titular single storms the ramparts toward the end.