Virgil and I arrived at The Anthem in DC in the waning daylight hours of a beautiful spring Friday. After securing our VIP wristbands for this sold-out show — thanks, Dream Theater! — we sashayed our way into the lounge just behind the soundboard and held court at a high-top with a dead-center stage view.
Adjacent to us was a marvel of probability; another Very Important Person shared with us that he had won free concert tickets three years running from DC101, including tonight’s show for himself and a friend. I suggested he invest in Powerball tickets immediately. I noted to my new friends that I had never seen a seated show at this venue before. Virgil, already tipsy from his pregame ritual, leaned over, bourbon breath heavy in my ear: “Prog shows aren’t seated, they’re endured.” I immediately regretted inviting Virgil.
Dream Theater hit the stage with clockwork precision on March 21 at exactly 8pm, an ominous punctuality. A steampunk Weatherlight-esque scene appeared as the first song erupted, and the crowd, glued to their seats in theory alone, promptly stood, driven by the unseen forces of prog.
“Hello, Washington *D-T*!” front man James LaBrie roared in greeting, chuckling to himself about his clever wordplay, he then insisted that we were going to have “a grand old time.” His jeans were astonishingly skinny, a fabric metaphor for prog’s compulsion toward excess.
As Dream Theater careened into their intricate arrangements, Virgil demanded an explanation: “Tell me again — why does Mike Portnoy need three bass drums?” Later, the third bass drum revealed its purpose as the slow side, a gloriously excessive drum set which the sound engineer assured me was haunted by the ghost of Neil Peart.
Watch Dream Theater perform “Metropolis Pt. 1” live at Luna Park on YouTube:
Virgil laughed bitterly, “Check out Jordan Rudess’ keyboard — it shows the keys he’s playing, as if anyone can’t already hear it.” Rudess’ keyboard pivoted dramatically, shamelessly showing off. When Rudess switched to a keytar, Virgil began shouting obscenities.
As the noir-film backdrop of the second song underscored the drama, Dream Theater faked out the crowd with the song’s ending. Virgil cackled, “Just kidding! This is prog; it never ends!” Yet, Dream Theater sounded flawless, precision honed to razor-sharp accuracy. John Petrucci’s guitar wizardry was complemented by the nimble bass work of John Myung, rounding out the fivesome that is the band. But something was off. The crowd stood frozen, occasionally erupting in hoots at precisely orchestrated intervals, a surreal, Pavlovian response. “Are they brainwashed?” Virgil asked, alarmed.
At intermission, I fled to the bathroom, narrowly escaping the crush of prog-metal fandom. I swung by the bar and asked them to cut off Virgil. As I made my way back to the lounge, I met Mike, a fan since ’92, proudly enduring his son’s first show. A family nearby cited dad’s devotion since ‘94, indoctrinating the kids into the cult.
The second half opened with “Night Terror,” Dream Theater’s new single, and “Midnight Messiah.” The prog intensified; dolphins leaped across roads on screens behind them. “Ape supremacy!” Virgil bellowed, nearly tumbling off his bar stool. Butterflies appeared on screen. “Crush the bugs! We can ill afford another Klendathu!” he slurred, invoking sci-fi absurdity as a coping mechanism. He must have gone to the bar while I was in the bathroom.
Watch the official music video for “Night Terror” by Dream Theater on YouTube:
Approximately two hours and thirty minutes after the show’s start, the encore ritual arrived, the crowd in thrall, lighting up their smartphones on command. More butterflies and birds flitted across the backdrop, igniting Virgil’s ire. “DON’T YOU APES WANNA LIVE FOREVER?!” he stammered, his existential dread disappearing into the void with the crowd’s synchronized arm-swaying to Dream Theater’s finale.
The band bowed, genuinely grateful, and exited to “Singing in the Rain” (another surreal juxtaposition Virgil barely survived). As we exited the venue, fans around me gushed openly: “Dream Theater can do no wrong,” “I love that they played some of the Mike Mangini-era songs,” and I overheard a bizarre story about Sebastian Bach singing with Air Supply on a metal cruise. Outside, Laurie and Mark (great folks) proclaimed their love for the show, capturing the night’s essence: the audience’s unbreakable devotion matched only by Dream Theater’s commitment to maximalist prog spectacle.
Virgil leaned in, sobering slightly. “Prog isn’t just music — it’s a lifestyle. Tonight, Dream Theater wielded prog like a superpower. Maybe it’s not my kind of jam, but damn it I respect their commitment.”
And so we left, ears ringing with complexity, heart full of contradiction, and Virgil stumbling behind me, muttering about butterflies — a fitting end to an evening at the intersection of virtuosity and madness.
Here are some photos of Dream Theater performing at The Anthem on March 21, 2025. All pictures copyright and courtesy of David LaMason.
