The Syndicate

There's really no chance whatsoever that I will like this. Some of my friends hate it and asked me to listen and review. Here we go, song by song. Sorry to all Dream Theater fans, don't take me too seriously. I liked their earlier albums a bit, but they've progressed into something I can't stand.

On the Backs of Angels:
Petrucci sounds awkward by default with this weird little pseudo-delicate introductory melody. Rudess is pretty much useless with whatever that it is he's mixing in. Oh, there's LaBrie. This is so awkward. I am uncomfortable. I don't like this song.

There's a lot happening now. I don't really hear a distinct structure though. The noises are sporadic and arbitrary. Maybe that's the intent? I don't know. Oh, there's a guitar riff. Fuck, there it went. What happened to it? Oh there it is again! What is Rudess doing? I am confused. I don't understand what is happening. Is John Myung still a member of this band? That drummer sounds like Portnoy, I thought he left?

Build Me Up, Break Me Down:
Is LaBrie singing this song into a tin can? I can't hear him. That must be the idea, I guess. Is this intentionally addled production? Some bands have managed that well. I'll give it a chance. There's a scream by LaBrie. It was surprising. Was that written into the song? It must have been I guess. Well, uhh...

Oh goodness, I just noticed the lyrics. I can make them out clearly now. I think I wrote this poem when I was a sophomore in high school. Amanda didn't fall in love with me though. Maybe I should have sang it to her? Along to some, err... well this stuff? What is this stuff?

WHAT IS THIS KEYBOARD SOLO? Why is it happening? I am laughing now, as LaBrie continues to fall to pieceeeeesssss and crash and buuuurrrrn. I am baffled by this music. LaBrie is screaming again, or maybe that's a backing vocalist? It sounds like an opossum with a hunter's arrow stuck into its butt.

Okay, now it's finishing cleanly. This sounds pleasant. Is it relevant though? I guess I shouldn't overanalyze.

Lost Not Forgotten:
Wow, I exploded with laughter right at the moment this one got underway. Sorry but that piano is just too much. It doesn't even sound bad, but when I consider the source I just lose it. Tears are in my eyes. This guitar following the piano sounds okay, or at least it did before Rudess jumped in and destroyed it. I hate this noise. Yuck.

It is literally impossible for me to take this song seriously. I am trying, though that might not sound believable with what I've written so far here. LaBrie just sounds so ridiculous, and the constant headache-inducing tempo changes behind his grunting are really starting to wear on me. Pick a damned melody and stick to it for at least thirty seconds. Is that so hard? Please. Oh my goodness Rudess, control yourself. Someone give him some Ritalin.

This Is the Life:
It's not a bad song conceptually, but for it to work it is going to need strong lyrics. They aren't present, or at least I am quite annoyed by what Dream Theater have offered. This is a nice solo by Petrucci, I hope he doesn't let it drag into some annoying noodling. LaBrie sounds so weird in songs like this. I guess it's better than the alternative though. This is the best song so far, but the lyrics still prevent me from feeling much better about the whole. Wow, I'm only halfway through it? This might end badly...

Egh, the aesthetic is pleasant enough. I like the idea of the song. It even sounds good. It'd have been a nice instrumental maybe. The words really bring it down. Petrucci is a good guitarist when he keeps his fingers disciplined.

Bridges in the Sky:
This has the immediate potential to be awesome. I love it through the first minute. Please don't ruin it, Dream Theater. Please.

And there it goes. We're in the nosedive. A full song of the stuff in the first minute and a half would have been legitimately cool. I was excited. Now we're back into standard issue useless prog noise. What a wasted opportunity. Eight more minutes, huh? My bed is looking so good right now.

Jordan Rudess is a fucking menace right now. WHAT IS HE DOING? There is no reason for this. Please stop. No, it's too late to return to what got this started. I hate this song.

Outcry:
There's the mysterious intro giving way to an explosive wall of riffs and choral vocals. It'd sound better if it weren't already done on the album. I can't take much more of this. I hate this album more than I expected to hate it. That's hard to fathom. Those lyrics, how can they be? Someone please come into my room and give me a reason to stop listening to this.

There's the obligatory Rudess wank. Doesn't he have a refractory period? Surely there must be limitations to his behavior? Who are his enablers? Did his father need to spank him more as a child? This is intolerable.

It's still happening three minutes later. I am going to need a windowless padded cell by the time this ends. I am lucky my hair is too short to pull out and my nails are too short to draw blood as I scratch at myself maniacally.

Far from Heaven:
I don't even care what this song sounds like. It's the shortest. It'll be over soon. I am too distracted by my own madness to pay attention to this. I can't hear it. Rudess's crimes are still assaulting my sanity, I am deaf. The sounds in my mind are so horrible. I want to cry. I am miserable. There's another huge track coming up next. I am concerned for my emotional well being. I'm doomed to an inevitable mental breakdown eventually, and this might prove the necessary catalyst.

Breaking All Illusions:
This will be a test of my will, and of my intestinal fortitude. I literally feel queezy, like my stomach is responding to the music the same way my ears and brain are. So far I don't really hear anything. The music is clearly going nowhere, but I don't notice it either. It's just there. That's a relief. I can hate it without it making me suffer. There's a lot of song to go though. This little sample sounds like Queensryche. They are welcome to that inspiration, but they were horrible to Queensryche when the two groups worked together on a tour. Douches.

I'm one-third through it. Earlier today I ran a mile and a half as hard as I could, to time myself. This feels quite like that did, but worse. I controlled the pace of the run, but this can only end when the timer reaches 00:00. What in the world is this flute? Are you kidding me? This is nonsense. I am outright offended. Maybe this guitar solo would be more appealing if it had any relevance whatsoever to anything. It's just stuck in there without purpose, so it's impossible to draw any emotion from it. I am numb.

End. End. End.

Beneath the Surface:
Well at least it's the last one. It sounds intensely cheesy, but that's better than intensely painful. The lyrics strike me as silly again. It's an easy way to end this torture, but it won't change the final rating. After what I have endured, there can only be one fair grade. I don't hate things this much often.

Actually, I don't hate things this much ever. I am willing to call this my least favorite album. Last place. I have a Crazy Frog album. Really? Rudess again? Couldn't resist just one more wank? There must be half a gallon of his spunk dripping from the studio equipment.

It's over.