(Ahem, folks who read my Mew review. You don't follow directions very well.)

God bless Dream Theater. They give my inner prog-rocker a chance to come out for a joyride once a year or so. I became a fan of the band with their experimental double-disc effort Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence in 2003, and then I was turned on to a crunchier, more metallic side of the band when Train of Thought came out later that year, which I caught up with in 2004. Both records are very different, and I've been told that the band's back catalogue is just as strong, if not stronger. So I know that, whenever I can manage to find the time (and that ain't gonna be for at least another month, because I'm currently eight days away from my wedding, which will bring a share of adjustments to deal with in the near future), I'll have a wealth of material from this talented, if occasionally overblown, progressive metal band to go back and explore.

For the moment, though, I'm going to concentrate on what the band is presently doing. June 2005 saw the release of Ocatvarium, an 8-track album (er, I mean 8-song album. Sorry for those of you who just got awful flashbacks to your parents Olivia Newton John recordings) that, depending on how you count, is the group's eighth album. Six Degrees, which had six songs if you counted the second disc as one full song, was their sixth by this counting method, and the 7-track Train of Thought was their seventh... very interesting. But as we should all know about prog rock bands by now, a short track listing doesn't entail a short album. No sir, not when you're talking about Dream Theater. The band rocks (and occasionally nudges) their way through 7 diverse compositions which marry the classic DT sound to a few new experiments, sometimes even yielding more "normal" pop or rock songs that still have a bit of distinctive DT stamp to them. And then, at track 8, they unleash the album's big epic, which takes up about a third of the disc at 24 minutes long. Not surprisingly, this and a few of the other long songs actually have defined "sections" to them, revealing a thought process more akin to classical composition than modern rock songwriting. That's the hallmark of progressive rock, and that's part of the appeal for patient listeners like myself.

Well, I'm usually patient anyway. I'll admit that there are two or three moments on this album where, as accomplished as they may be, I'm not sure what the hell they're doing or why the hell they're doing it. The musical approach certainly isn't as bone-crushing as most of the songs on Train of Thought were - though I would like to point out to those who have criticized guitarist John Petrucchi for not having enough solos on this album aren't listening carefully enough. The less metallic edge (on some tracks) allows Jordan Rudess, whose keyboards can occasionally seem out of place or give the band a dated sound, to fit in more naturally. But sometimes the streamlining and the move toward radio-friendliness hurts a few of the songs, most notably the ones where the lyrical approach is unabashedly positive and motivational. Dream Theater has an unfortunate habit of swinging back and forth from darker lyrics that are generally quite intriguing, to positive lyrics that sound like they came from a self-help book. Hey, I don't like it when metal bands are all about negativity, so I'm not saying I want DT to be a downer all the time. I just wish they'd figure out a more captivating way to convey the hope that pulls a person out of the anguished pitfalls that some of their other songs describe, that's all. And on top of all that, while I do enjoy some the music made by modern, teen-friendly bands like Linkin Park, I don't know if it's such a smart idea to advertise their influence when you've shown yourselves to be a much more mature and accomplished band. No, James LaBrie hasn't suddenly started rapping or anything (actually, he did that a little bit on Train of Thought, but I digress), and the influence isn't really that profound, but there's one point where it becomes a little too obvious. I'll get to that.

For the most part, despite my complaints, Octavarium has turned out to be an enjoyable an addictive listen, with subtle recurring motifs here and there that hint at a connection between these songs (one of Train of Thought's flaws was an overall sense of disconnectedness, which may have been Intentional for all I know), and a hint at some sort of bit of numerology or music theory trivia that might just "unlock" this album for the more observant listener. I love to geek out over a good puzzle while I'm rocking out to good music. So let's get on with it, shall we?

The Root of All Evil
Dirty enough for me to lust, leaving nothing left to trust
Jealous enough to still feel envious
Lazy enough to sleep all day, and let my life just waste away
Selfish enough to make you wait for me...
A lone piano note (possibly referencing the tense note that "In the Name of God" left us on last time around) gets the album started, with the gradual fade-in of a harsh drum march and the blurting of guitar found in the last album's song "This Dying Soul", which was in turn a sequel to "The Glass Prison" from Six Degrees. Yep, it's another entry in drummer Mike Portnoy's ongoing saga of alcoholism. I think that's what this trilogy is about, anyway - it certainly continues to reference different steps on the road to recovery from an addiction. The music is a fairly straightforward metallic chug-a-chug at first, with James LaBrie moaning about how dirty and slothful and lazy he can be - "The root of all even is running my whole life". As the song unfolds, the band toys with the rhythm and tempo, occasionally breaking it down in more sludgy, old-school metal-like breakdowns, and eventually switching into a swaying 6/4 beat over which a retooled chorus from "This Dying Soul" is sung. Overall, it's not as butt-kicking as "This Dying Soul" - kind of hard to outdo that one in terms of speed and precision. But it's also not as disjointed and overblown as "The Glass Prison", so I'd put this one in second place when comparing entries from this particular trilogy. Listen for a piano outro that introduces us to a musical motif that we'll hear again later in the album.

The Answer Lies Within
Life is short, so learn from your mistakes
And stand behind the choices that you make
Face each day with both eyes open wide
And try to give, don't keep it all inside...
Surprisingly, an aggressive opening number gives way to the eerie sound of crickets or cicadas, and as a bell begins to toll, a mournful piano melody brings us into an oddly placed ballad that basically seeks to sum up all of the self-help cliches that the band can muster. The music, while not terribly progressive, is actually quite pretty in a very simplistic way, with the rest of the band gently following Jordan Rudess's lead and some strings even swelling up behind them. But man oh man, does LaBrie lay on the schmaltz here. "You've got the future on your side, you're gonna be fine. I know whatever you decide, you're gonna be fine". Does it get any more Hallmark Card-esque than this? Never mind the fact that the encouragement sounds totally hollow, even disregarding how cliche it is. The song basically states that all the strength a person needs to solve an unnamed problem (possibly the addiction referred to indirectly by the previous song) is already inside of them, which kind of goes against the band's usual, subtly religious motif - the notion that there is a higher power and one is not sufficient to save oneself from a problem such as addiction. I might be reading too much into it, but the band seems at odds with their own theme here in favor of proving that they can be uplifting, and it makes the song difficult to take seriously.

These Walls
So much uncertainty, I don't like this feeling
I'm sinking like a stone
Each time I try to speak, there's a voice I'm hearing
And it changes everything...
Some pretty gnarly guitar squeals bring us out of a quiet, reflective mood, and back into our mental prison cells, as a chunky 6/8 rhythm gets revved up. Here is where the Linkin Park influence comes through - the uncharacteristically normal power chords that comprise the main riff, combined with the zippy electronic keyboards, bring back strong memories of LP's song "From the Inside". I like that song a lot, so I guess it's all good, but still, it's just too weird to hear Dream Theater doing it. Ignoring that, this is actually a pretty solid song, with mellower piano passages haunting the verses, and an occasional skipped beat (a bar of 5/8 instead of 6/8) adding a sort of nervous tic to the music. Surprisingly, though the song is as good seven minutes long, they stick to that main rhythmic motif for its entire length, making it one of DT's less progressive entries, but still a satisfying one thanks to a decent solo section. The lyrics confess a feeling of helplessness and uncertainty, bringing back the imagery of walls previously used in "The Glass Prison", which this time describe a sensation of numbness and an inability to communicate one's true feelings to the outside world. Even if the cheesy fake string hits can seem like a bit much near the end, the song rocks, and I love how its cold ending just kind of seems to plunge off a cliff into open air. A brief segue into the next song hangs on a single keyboard tone as the sound of ticking clocks approaches, leading us into the intro riff from the next track.

I Walk Beside You
Summon up your ghosts for me
Rest your tired thoughts upon my hands
Step inside this sacred place
When all your dreams seem broken...
I like the chunky guitar intro that leads this one off, though I must admit that it's weird to hear Dream Theater doing a fairly standard rock song in 4/4. There's a very hopeful feel to this one that some have compared to U2 - I can hear that in character more so than in the actual execution. LaBrie takes on the voice of either God or a determined friend here, once again offering unabashed encouragement, but this time it's of the dependent variety. "The Answer Lies Within" seemed to tell a person they could figure It all out on their in, whereas this song asks the person to rely on one who is in a position to help them through. LaBrie offers a rather operatic performance, something that a metal band would go for on an expected pop hit, but this one avoids being a "power ballad" simply because it's faster paced. At 4:29, it doesn't quite pack the epic punch that a really good Dream Theater song would, but as casual listening, it ain't bad, if you can get past some of the cliches (they're not piled on as thick as they were in track 2, but still, it feels like the solution to the problem is being offered way too soon in both tracks).

Panic Attack
Rapid heartbeat pounding through my chest
Agitated body in distress
I feel like I'm in danger
Daily life is strangled by my stress...
A few months ago, I had a rather emotional response to the song-segment "Solitary Shell" from Six Degrees, due to how accurately it described a rather reclusive phase that I was going through at the time. The band seems to have a knack for depicting disturbed mental states with feeling and with musical muscle, because they've done it again here. Bass player John Myung leads off with a thick, fumbling, jungle of a riff before the rest of the band comes slamming In, plowing through at breakneck speed in the way that I just love to hear them do it. The tricky, fast paced 5/8 and 6/8 and 4/4 of this song, complete with several frantic solos would be enough to hook me, but what really amazes me here is not just that they can kick my a$$, but that they can assure me they understand what I'm going through in the process. I've had problems with anxiety/panic disorder in the past, and I've found myself dealing with them again in the wake of constant logistical nightmares and financial woes leading up to next month's wedding. The rapid heartbeat, the sensation of not fully breathing, the worry that you're going slowly crazy, the toll it takes on your social and professional life (well, thankfully it never got that bad for me)... it's all here, and it's well-described in James LaBrie's short, hurriedly blurted-out lines that match up to the manic, nervous rhythm. The song finally comes careening to a close after about seven minutes of this insanity, with its final crash of a note echoing in one speaker, then the other, finally fading out and leading into a creepy, slithering electronic interlude.

Never Enough
Sacrifice my life, neglect my kids and wife
All for you to be happy
All those sleepless nights
And countless fights to give you more...
I'm not even sure what instrument starts this song off - it could be a heavily-processed guitar or bass made to sound computerized, or it could be Jordan fooling around on the keyboards. Whatever it is, It's menacing, and Mike Portnoy's rapid cymbal-tapping sounds quite eerie accompanying it. He finally breaks in when the rest of the band does, providing his usual dizzying drum fills and all that sort of stuff. Here, the band manages to play in 4/4 for an entire song while still being quite progressive and labyrinthine in their arrangement. James LaBrie sounds increasingly bitter here, breaking the mold of startlingly positive even-numbered tracks in favor of a bitter tirade which he seems to be launching against an obsessed fan. Basically, according to this person, he and the band can do no right. Echoes of "As I Am", in which the band railed against those who wanted them to be trendy, show up here, but the song is mostly about the invisible line between a performer's professional and personal life. Apparently one or more fans had unrealistic expectations of the band meeting their personal demands and having some sort of a personal relationship with them, and LaBrie puts in in perspective by basically saying, "Dude, I leave my family to go out and do this for you, and I bust my butt trying to give my all to these recordings, and you still think I owe you something?" I have to say, not many bands have successfully managed to launch a tirade against overzealous fans without it seeming too silly or self-referential, but Dream Theater has managed to join The Juliana Theory on the extremely short list of bands that have been able to pull this off.

Sacrificed Sons
Teach them what to think and feel
Your ways, so enlightening
Words they preach, I can't relate
If God's true love are acts of hate...
The previous song eventually fades into the sounds of unintelligible foreign chatter - possibly some sort of a Middle Eastern language. That's intentional, given that this song is an obvious reference to 9/11 and these voices are being juxtaposed with sound clips from American news broadcasts aired on that horrific day. Unlike previous "clip songs" such as "Honor Thy Father" or "The Great Debate", the talking isn't overlaid on the music, which starts up as a solemn piano ballad as soon as all of the clips have been heard. As a result, the song kind of atkes a while to really hit its stride, and it kind of follows the model of several of Train of Thought's songs, where a theme is explored, then set aside for a lot of soloing (the song runs beyond ten minutes), and then the chorus finally returns to close out the song. I like the description of shock and disbelief made by the quiet verses, and the song has a very compelling chorus melody to it, questioning "Who would wish this on our people, and proclaim that His will be done?" Unfortunately, the song runs the risk of being too closely associated with "In the Name of God", which discussed religious crimes on the last album, and it also falls short of its potential by failing to come full circle and admit that Americans, too, have committed crimes against some of these people in the name of the Christian God. It comes across as a simple re-enactment without much insight, one that comes dangerously close to implicating the people whose voices are heard at the beginning without saying much in the defense of their society as a whole. The soling that jars us out of the first section's trance-like mood is a lot of fun, but kind of out of place, and while I like how the chorus returns in a faster, more rocking reprise, it's kind of easy to forget about the intended meaning by then. I don't see why Dream Theater had to go and record a 9/11 song four years after the fact (especially when "In the Name of God" addressed a lot of feelings related to that day so well without needing to specifically be about just that), but whatever, it's a mildly interesting composition.

Octavarium
Here it is - the title epic, which multiplies eight by three and takes us on a 24-minute saga of varying musical moods, many of which seem to tie together more smoothly than the 40-some-odd-minute "Six Degrees" suite. I guess it made sense to keep this song as a single track rather than breaking it into its five sections, but boy, can it be a pain to listen to on my portable CD player in my car, which doesn't even remember the track I was on when stopped and started again, let alone the position within the track! As a result, this isn't recommended listening for a less-than-24-minute commute to work in the morning - you've really gotta sit down and devote some time to enjoying it uninterrupted. Having said that, I'm going to break my description of this song into five paragraphs, because otherwise it's going to be the paragraph from hell that runs on forever.

I. Someone Like Him
It's wonderful to know that I could be
Something more than what I dreamed
Far beyond what I could see
Still I swear that I'm missing out this time...
If you've ever thought that a prog rock song took too long to really get going, then this track will undoubtedly drive you crazy with its extremely leisurely, airy guitar noodling that lasts for almost a full four minutes before the song's main theme comes crashing in. The melody and chord progression that we first heard at the end of "The Root of All Evil" turns out to be that main theme, and it shows up here in grandiose, symphonic fashion, giving way to the first section of lyrics, playing over an eerie, almost medieval acoustic guitar melody. James LaBrie is singing about a person with a vision, one who is trying to escape their past and who vows not to be like someone else who once did him a lot of harm. As the lyric progresses, we find this person coming full circle and becoming what they swore they never would, in spite of their best intentions.

II. Medicate (Awakening)
A higher dosage he prescribes, but there's no guarantee
I feel it starting to take over me
I tell him not to be ashamed, there's no one who's to blame
A second shot, a brief awakening...
A thick bass line anchors this slow but funky section about a visit to a doctor, or some sort of physical/emotional therapy section designed to break a person out of a catatonic state. In many ways, it echoes some of the "disturbed patient" stories from the "Six Degrees" suite, and like I said earlier, Dream Theater is very good at describing these sorts of experiences. The music is relaxed and subdued here, but pay attention - the easygoing chorus melody is actually that main theme again, muted a bit to sound less theatric and more sparse. After this section ends, we're treated to some zippy keyboard soloing, which leads into the more upbeat third section.

III. Full Circle
Sailing on the seven, seize the day, tripper diem's ready
Jack the Ripper, Owens, Wilson Phillips, and my supper's ready...
The band goes completely manic on this one, allowing chugging guitar and organ-like keyboards to lead James LaBrie through a nonsensical section of reference to various songs, celebrities, and other items of cultural significance. The only parts that make any sense are the "bridge" sections, where the uneven, manic rhythm finds LaBrie and another member (possibly Petrucchi or Portnoy?) pingponging back and forth as they both sing about this seemingly endless process of recovering and then relapsing again. This is followed by some more hefty soling - here we've really reached the meat of the song, where the band can just open up and do whatever the hell they want because the notion of radio playability has been abandoned so far back that nobody even remembers what that was even like. At one point, a funny, jerky rendition of the melody line from "Jingle Bells" emerges, and then we get a random acoustic guitar section before diving back into the gritty electric stuff - it's one of those "WTF?" moments like the random keyboard solo in the middle of "Endless Sacrifice".

IV. Intervals
We try to break through, long to connect
Fall on deaf ears with failed muted breath
Loyalty, trust, faith and desire
Carries love through each darkest fire...
The true climax of the song is in this fourth section, in terms of both meaning and musical intensity. From out of the jerky rhythms of the previous sections and the length instrumental parts that followed, we move into this section which systematically builds as each lyrical couplet is spoken in a menacing tone, sometimes echoed by another voice underneath, with a faint voice saying "Root, second, third", etc., all the way up to "seventh" and then "octave" for the final couplet, by which point the lyrics are being angrily shouted. Listen carefully to the words (or better yet, go read them), and you'll realize that each of these eight mini-poems describes one of the tracks on the album, with the eighth presumably summing up the theme of this final song, or perhaps the album as whole: "Step after step, we try controlling our fate. When we finally start living it's become to late." This is followed by a chilling scream of "TRAPPED IN-SIDE! THIS! OC-TA-VA! RI! UM!", which is repeated four times for a grand finish that will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It's a wonderful release of tension... but then, a little bit of keyboard wizardry picks up after what you thought was the big finish, and hey wait, there's more!

V. Razor's Edge
A perfect sphere
Colliding with our fate
This story ends where it began...
By now we're about 20 minutes into this convoluted maze of a song, and we've got an orchestra going full blast, bringing us around for a slow finale reminiscent of the last few minutes of "Losing Time" from Six Degrees. Things are summed up in very few words here, letting the music do most of the talking, and by about minute twenty-three, Dream Theater as a band has brought the house done and come to a smashing finale, leaving some horns and a solemn flute from the orchestra to finish the job. Absolutely outstanding - as an entire 24-minute piece, "Octavarium" can make you feel like saying "Get on with it!" at certain points, but it's certainly a tour-de-force of the band's musical and thematic talents.

And so it ends, beckoning us to go back around and start the vicious cycle all over again. Maybe, in the end, the strange rays of sunlight shining into an otherwise dark room on tracks 2 and 4 do make sense. Maybe something can be derived from the musical scale that resulted in the naming of this album that makes those moments more significant or "resolved" somehow than the others (though I'd have expected 1, 4, and 5 - maybe that's too obvious). But in any event, I think that Dream Theater has quite an accomplishment on their hands with this album, despite the few flaws that bring them uncomfortably close to more mainstream territory. I've heard better albums in 2005, but few that manage to have such a grand musical scope and be so emotionally cathartic all at once, so for that, I have to commend Dream Theater on a job well done.

We should start taking bets on the title of Dream Theater's next album. I'm putting my money on Dressed to the Nines.

ALBUM WORTH:
The Root of All Evil: $1.50
The Answer Lies Within: $.50
These Walls: $1.50
I Walk Beside You: $1
Panic Attack: $2
Never Enough: $2
Sacrificed Sons: $1.50
Octavarium: $1.50 + $1 + $1.50 + $2 + $1 = $7
TOTAL: $17

Band Members:
James LaBrie: Lead vocals
John Petrucci: Lead guitar, vocals
Mike Portnoy: Drums, percussion, vocals
John Myung: Bass
Jordan Rudess: Keyboards

Website: http://www.dreamtheater.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Listening