It’s a rallying call to dunderheaded revolutionaries everywhere, an immense shout to the disaffected which doesn’t necessarily involve eyeliner and moping in a darkened room. My Chemical Romance say ‘Na Na Na…’ rescued the band, which is a mixed blessing however you look at it, but on its own it’s perfectly raucous fun – a breakneck tour around the poppier nethers of punk and psychedelia, with a riff that could slice up a swede.
It’s not a great shock that Junior nails the chorus immediately and flings herself around with un-emo abandon. And, like her dad, she wants to play it eight times in a row.
QFTSA lite.