It’s not OK. We promise…

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[4.00]

Patrick St. Michel: So is Gerard Way trying to sell me a comic book about psychic teenagers? And why is he shouting at me?
[2]

Alfred Soto: Don’t let the four-on-the-floor beat fool you: this is neither dance nor electronic music but a My Chemical Romance plaint shouted and programmed by professional griefers. 
[2]

Jonathan Bogart: Ohhhhhh, him from My Chemical Romance. Now I get why he seems to hate the dance-music audience so much.
[3]

Mallory O’Donnell: The song I will surely turn to in the future when I need an instant headache.
[1]

Anthony Easton: My great cultural blank spot is video games — and i don’t quite understand what a griefer is, so it seems kind of silly to review this, but I genuinely like it. I guess I like being yelled at, and I like when music sort of sounds like grindy sirens — and this sounds like hella grindy sirens. 
[7]

Brad Shoup: I like the cymbals supplementing Way’s pinched-off syllables, and the pinched, bassy throb resists the facile chaos Deadmau5 tends to summon. Forget the title, though; it’s more like “Professional InfoWars Moderators”.
[5]

Will Adams: Like “Sofi Needs a Ladder” before it, “Professional Griefers” is gritty, claustrophobic, and something you might get hurt while dancing to. Hard to figure out what Gerard Way’s screaming about on the verses; there’s only a couple macabre images that slip through the hammering electro — “girls with guns on LSD.” But when the guitars fall out, and a melodic synth wanders in, we find Gerard dropping his grief for a plea: “Gimme the sound/to see.” Before he reveals too much of what’s behind his punky aggression, though, the dizzy synths return and conceal the emotion.
[8]