Beyond everything that has been said, beyond all that has been written, I would like to add a personal observation, even though no one will probably care.
What makes art beautiful, ultimately, I believe, is the imperfection of the artist, the "human" touch behind an instrument. This recent trend of inhuman perfection brought to excess, represented here by the much-discussed five gentlemen known as Dream Theater, is in my opinion the beginning of the death of the artistic concept in music.
Not that I’m surprised. It has been a foretold death in many ways. Think of the great artistic works of all time, the ones you studied in school that have made history. None, I say, none of them exist for their own sake. No one will ever make you study something just because it is "beautiful" or because its creator was simply "talented." Behind every memorable work, there is always a context, a meaning, and an influence that endures over time. The stylistic exercise of the Divine Comedy would not even be mentioned if it did not convey a significance that has become fundamentally important over the centuries; the narrative technique of The Betrothed would not torment young high school students if it had not influenced the historical and cultural environment of its time. For the past 50 years, however, the trend seems to be diametrically opposed, and the "phenomenon" Dream Theater is just one example among many.
Those whom people continue to call "artists," "musicians," or worse, "absolute geniuses," are the perfect product of the consumerist subculture of the late century. What drives so many people to buy their records and attend their concerts is the illusion, typical of bourgeois non-culture, of feeling knowledgeable and experienced in something not because they studied it but because they purchased it. And so, attending a Dream Theater concert makes many feel "cultured," enjoying "true good music," when in reality they cannot even imagine what music has artistic value. To use a typical Roman expression, they are "contenti e coglionati."
And where does this illusion come from? Well, I have heard many arguments in favor of the validity of these five unfortunate souls, but no one has had the courage to state the only true one. In my opinion, the people who admire Dream Theater, the first time they heard them, were struck by one thing: the technique. The foolish sense of wonder that followed led many to believe they had found the best group in the world, and upon that position, everything else typical of their arguments has been built: celestial melodies, expression, depth, emotional transport... all pathetic attempts to shield themselves from criticisms. Unfortunately, no matter how many words can be spent, the fact remains that, ultimately, Dream Theater is liked because they sound "difficult," or purportedly so, and that’s enough for the average fan to be satisfied. The average fan says that DT can also be deep and emotional, but in reality, they don’t care as long as they receive their union-mandated dose of technique. Forget critical thinking; the truth is that, some more openly than others, people want one thing: to get pumped while they watch them on stage acting all flashy. It’s the same sensation sought by a spectator at a wrestling match, no more, no less, except that at least he doesn’t try to pass it off as art at all costs.
Beneath the success that DT has, there’s only this, so stop spouting nonsense about their preparation, about their expressiveness; don’t inflate stupid apologia based on utterly misleading arguments, and admit things as they really are. You are excused: many other things typical of today’s world operate this way. I think, for example, of particular adventure-sex-special effects films that hit the box office without needing to worry about having a story to tell; I think of the phenomenon of "veline," of the pale entertainment of prime time, of stadium fervor. You are not the only ones idolizing something th
