Dream Theater at the Joint proves to be a real sleeper

Geoff Carter

Friday, Feb. 4, 2000 | 8:20 a.m.

Let's do this one by the numbers. Here's how to determine if you're at a "progressive rock" show:

A. Is the ratio of men to women approximately 20 to 1? If so, continue to provision B.

B. Are said men breaking into impromptu air guitar solos? Wail on over to provision C.

C. Did three or more of the musicians you're at the Hard Rock Joint to see attend the prestigious Berklee School of Music? Go on.

D. Do you see someone actually wearing a Musician magazine T-shirt?

There's no need for you to go on. You're at a progressive rock gig. Specifically, you're at Dream Theater's Tuesday show at the Hard Rock, a two-hour affair in support of the band's latest record, "Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes From A Memory." With a name like that, could it be anything but a concept record? No way, baby.

You are pumped. You're ready for songs that sprawl well over seven minutes in length. You're ready for high concept lyrics -- the higher, the better, dude. You're ready to see guys who could legitimately be called "guitar heroes."

And if you're a music critic, you're ready to take a bath. Put away a beer milkshake or two. Maybe watch that "Caligula" DVD you just received from Amazon. At the very least, you're ready to cheer the flying pig. Where was the flying pig?

There's no denying that Dream Theater is a talented group. There's enough virtuoso skill in the outfit to kick-start at least three more Berklees. Guitarist John Petrucci is a solid player; he could punch his weight against Steve Vai, Joe Satriani -- practically any guitarist whose technique can be scrutinized down to the last arpeggio.

Keyboardist Jordan Rudess applies touches that range from Tony Kaye-style organ bleats to soothing synthesizer washes reminiscent of Thomas Dolby. And the firepower behind him staggers the imagination: Bassist John Myung and drummer Mike Portnoy could demolish buildings simply by checking their levels.

So why was I so thoroughly bored by Tuesday's show? I suspect that part of it was the deju-vu-all-over-again factor: They sound like Queensyrche, which is to say that they sound like Pink Floyd (the self-indulgent Roger Waters era). "Through Her Eyes" is a lovely ballad, and why not? It's cut from the same cloth as "Silent Lucidity" and "Comfortably Numb" and too many others.

And I hate to tell these guys their jobs, but they should give serious thought to replacing their vocalist. James LaBrie sings his heart out, but a heartbeat isn't enough to get a point across when you're surrounded by cannons. You can visualize the summit of LaBrie's vocal range, see him scrape the top of his ceiling -- far below that of Queensryche's Geoff Tate.

To be fair, the show wasn't meant for me. Dream Theater's fan base is a club; there are no passive listeners. Lyrics were occasionally flashed on the Joint's side screens, but were distorted, obfuscated. If you didn't know Dream Theater before you came in, you weren't going get to know them any better that night.

If you elect to jump Dream Theater's caravan, you're in for the haul: 11-minute songs, concept records a-plenty, extruded solos by every player with an axe to grind. One such solo, by Rudess, ended with an amusing disclaimer on the side screens: "Jordan is available for parties and weddings."

I didn't join Dream Theater's company that night, and I'm not going to. But I rather like the idea of the band playing a wedding: a blushing bride, 20 grooms, a stack of Musician magazine subscription gift cards, and a floating pig.