On the Bus with Dream Theater

A single portly security guard planted outside the loading area of the Oakdale Theater in Wallingford, Connecticut belies the beehive of activity happening inside the theater, both on and offstage. Roadies, sound crew, lighting techs, and sundry other specialists hover around their specific areas, setting up consoles, hanging lights, running cables, hoisting speakers, unloading instruments, and performing the countless other chores, which when finished, will culminate in that grandest of all musical spectacles: “the rock concert.” But right now, at 10:15 A.M., on a beautiful September day, the stage is cluttered with road cases, lighting rigs, and weary-eyed men wearing the ubiquitous Leatherman knife case on their belts and laminate passes over their T -shirts. There is an easy camaraderie among the road crew, but also insularity horn out of constant movement and shared experiences.

Tape has been laid down to mark territory for the different stage teams – over here the monitor desk, over there the production team, and to the side, an area for the lighting director. To the neophyte observer, the scene is chaotic, but there is a method to the madness. Off in a corner of the stage, leaning lazily against a huge flight case, taking it all in, is Jose “Ho” Baraquio, coming up on ten years as drum tech to Mike Portnoy, the outrageously gifted drummer of the prog/art/rock band Dream Theater.

Baraquio is surveying the stage and waiting – always waiting. He has done as much as he can since the 9:00 A.M. load-in, but for now he can’t begin the mammoth task of setting up what might be the world’s largest touring drum kit until the lights are hung. Baraquio passes the time shooting the breeze with other members of the crew, joking about the things roadies joke about, wondering how he is going to spend the upcoming break, before the next leg of the yearlong tour takes the band to Europe. He also knows from experience that the operative phrase on any tour is “hurry up and wait.” He talks about this tour: how it started in January, how this leg has been different than other Dream Theater tours because of the lineup, which features co-headlining guitar phenom Joe Satriani, and heavy rockers Kings X. “It’s been a great tour,” he says with as much enthusiasm as one can expect a drum tech to muster this early in the morning. “The usual Dream Theater [set] can be upwards of three hours a night, but this has been 80-minute sets. The length of this show with all three bands, is still shorter than the normal Dream Theater show, so it’s been pretty laid back.”

Around 12:15 P.M. the lights are hung and it’s time to assemble the kit. Baraquio methodically starts joining the 20-plus pieces of the rack, which will act as a skeleton for Portnoy’s massive set up. The rack itself will hold drums, cymbals, percussion, and microphones, and resembles nothing so much as a high-tech instrument of war, which given Dream Theater’s penchant for martial music, and especially Mike Portnoy’s unremitting percussive attack, is an apt metaphor. Within an hour and with the quick precision of a man who knows every inch of every angled tom holder and cymbal arm – Baraquio will have put up the entire kit. This includes a gong, a drink table (handmade by Baraquio in the shape of the infinity symbol), and a ceremoniously hung stuffed “Animal,” the lovable drum-bashing, stage-wrecking creature from the Muppets. It is then left to the sound crew to attach over 25 microphones to the rack and wait for head sound engineer Nigel to do the final placement.

The show in Connecticut comes after a rare day off near home, which Portnoy has taken advantage of to visit his family in Rockland County, New York. With three hours to kill before Portnoy arrives for sound check, Baraquio has some time to talk about the Siamese Monster – the nickname for the kit he and Portnoy designed. This set is one of three identical sets – one for American tours, one for European tours, and one for Asian tours. While we are waiting for Portnoy to show up, I stand amazed at the sheer size of the kit, wondering aloud why there are three kick drums.

How many pieces is the drum kit?

“You know, I’ve never really counted,” Baraquio replies. “The kit is his regular DT kit he’s used for the last six or seven years with his side project kit meshed into the middle of it. There’s the extra kick drum and a couple extra rack toms. He has two snare drums, like five rack toms, three floor toms, and lots of cymbals.”

Oh.

A couple days later in Boston, during a long face-to-face interview aboard Dream Theater’s tour bus, Portnoy sheds more light on the configuration.

How many toms are there?

“I don’t know,” Portnoy says. “Maybe six or seven and a couple floor toms and octobans, four hi-hats, two snare drums. It’s evolved over the years. If you look at my set ups they keep getting bigger and bigger. My last kit, we didn’t think we could go bigger than that. This is basically two kits in one. People say ‘How do you play three bass drums?’ It’s basically a double bass kit and a single bass kit sitting side by side and the hi-hat, ride and crashes in the middle are utilized for both kits.

Oh.

He elaborates: “I wanted to use a smaller configuration for certain straight-ahead or experimental songs. Also the side projects I’ve done – Transatlantic and Liquid Tension Experiment – I did those albums on small kits. I love playing on a small kit, you know Bonham and Ringo or Dave Grohl – I love that style. For me it was just a way to be able to play on a small kit and a big kit at the same time. It’s the best of both worlds.

“I play most of our older songs on the smaller side of the kit, just so that I have to completely rethink my parts. That was something I started to do on clinics, because sometimes the dealer won’t have my exact configuration. I get bored easily, so that kind of stuff is fun for me. Plus other drummers can come up and play next to me.”

That’s exactly what happens at the Oakdale Theater. DT’s guitarist and Portnoy’s co-writer and producer John Petrucci is taking the ferry from Long Island to Connecticut and it looks like he’ll miss the 4:00 P.M. sound check, so the band asks Kings X guitarist Ty Tabor to sit in. The band jams, working on ear monitor mixes and generally having a good time. In the middle of the jam, Kings X drummer Jerry Gaskill jumps up on the throne to the right of Portnoy and joins in, both drummers trading fills and cracking up. Gaskill is a powerful drummer in his own right, all flailing arms and toothy smiles, and the jam slowly becomes a groove-driven fun fest.

There’s no question this tour has had its demands. Among other things, Dream Theater has gone through four monitor operators since January – but for ten or so minutes, the professional musicians are kids again, jamming in the basement, having a blast. At 5:00 P.M. the band finishes. Baraquio covers the kit with a protective black sheet, and stagehands push the riser back to make way for the Satriani band to sound check. Portnoy goes over to chat with monitor operator Chris Schutz, who has lasted the longest at the monitors on this tour. Looking at Schutz’s console, it’s easy to understand how tenuous his job could be. While most touring bands might have between 8-16 channels devoted to drums in the in-ear monitor mixes, Portnoy receives a whopping 26 channels of drums, along with varying degrees of John Petrucci’s guitar, John Myung’s bass, Jordan Rudess’ keyboard, and James LaBrie’s vocals. Schutz’s self stated goal is “for the band not to look at me during the show. If they don’t look over at me, it’s a good show.”

Portnoy could be called a tough taskmaster, but the truth is he is as tough on himself as anybody else and is extremely meticulous about every aspect of Dream Theater. “I actually do most of the jobs for the band,” he notes without a trace of bravado, “whether it’s designing T-shirts or album covers, coming up with a set list or dealing with the fan club or web site ideas. Back in the early days we used to live under the false pretense that we were a democracy. For many years we functioned under that umbrella and argued over every detail. Ultimately I ended up winning every one of those arguments because I was the most relentless. So ten years into our careers we said, ‘Why are we kidding ourselves? There’s obviously people in this band who are naturally the leaders.’”

That attention to detail, what Portnoy himself refers to as his “obsessive/compulsive, anal-retentive nature,” not only manifests itself in his need to hear his drums perfectly balanced during a live show, but also appears in his method for writing set lists. After checking in with tour manager Rick Fullner, he finds a quiet dressing room backstage, and armed with a folder jammed with paper and a felt tip marker, he gets to work constructing a list of songs for the next show, two nights later in Boston. But he doesn’t just throw together any old songs. Mike Portnoy has made it an art form. “It’s like solving the perfect crossword puzzle,” he says, smiling as he gazes over the many sheets arranged in front of him.

Portnoy pulls out the set list from the band’s last Boston appearance the previous March, and writes a new set list for tonight’s performance, and makes sure not to include any Dream Theater songs that were played at the March show. “You figure a lot of people will be repeat visitors from March and they aren’t going to want to see the same show, not to mention the fact that we don’t want to play the same show.

“Basically I map out the set list so every cue is in black and white so nobody misses anything. For instance, the arrow designates a segue into the next song and the name next to the arrow is who’s doing the segue. DT means it’s a full band segue. Basically every day, because it’s a different set list, everybody’s got to be on their toes.”

He stops for a moment, watching my eyes slowly cross and, almost embarrassed, lowers his voice as he turns back to the task. “I doubt many other bands do this crap,” he says softly, “but we have fans that go to multiple shows.”

The fans, the devoted hard-core audience that Dream Theater has cultivated over the last ten years of touring, are what keeps Portnoy and the band going. The tours, up to a year long, most often feature a three-hour-plus show, in which the band more than delivers a huge bang-to-buck ratio.

“Physically I enjoy the shorter set,” Portnoy says of the Satriani, Kings X leg. “It’s less demanding, but artistically it’s far less satisfying for me. I do enjoy the [three-hour] ‘Evening With’ shows because I know we’re delivering a satisfying set, sometimes to the point of overkill. But sometimes with these 80-minute sets, we get offstage and say, ‘We were just starting to tap into an energy and it’s all done with.’ When we play the three-hour shows, it’s draining. People have asked me, ‘Why do you torture yourself like this?’ The answer is, and I know it sounds really cliché, but it’s for the fans. Every time we play, we want them to walk away and say ‘That was the greatest show they could have given us.’”

It’s 8:00 P.M. and Kings X is just finishing their half-hour set. They won over the crowd, and come backstage sweating and laughing. During the changeover for Satriani, the Dream Theater boys are starting to get their game faces on. Portnoy picks up his laundry (he understandably sweats through his many sports-based stage outfits), hangs out a little with the other musicians and then reflects on the many hours of the day when he isn’t onstage. “A lot of time there will be interviews immediately following sound check, then dinner. With this tour there’s a lot of time between check and the show. When we do ‘An Evening With’ we do sound check and while we’re eating dinner, [the doors open] and then we’re on. With this we’ve got four hours. I’ll deal with e-mail, go to the bus and watch a movie, work on the set lists, or I watch these guys.”

On his days off, Portnoy can usually be found in his hotel room, eating room service dinners, answering e-mails, or watching a DVD. “If I leave my room at all, it’s only to go to an AA meeting or catch a movie.”

AA meetings. During a photo shoot, Portnoy was asked to pull out the bling-bling, including a necklace with a nondescript round coin. He said it was his two-and-a-half-year sobriety token. One of the pitfalls of being a touring musician is the lure and easy access to drink and drugs. For all his ferocity as a drummer, Portnoy proved to be just as vulnerable as the next person when it came to the temptations of the road.

There is a masseuse backstage with a special chair, and tired from following around musicians and crew all day, I am tempted to get a back rub. I ask Portnoy if he does any warm ups or stretches to prepare himself for the long sets. “ I used to have a half-hour regimen,” he says remembering the earlier tours, “ but I get bored with the routine. But I mess myself up by not being warmed up. One time we were in Toronto and my back went completely out in the middle of a show and I told Baraquio, ‘You’ve got to do something.’ At that point we stopped the show and our singer asked if there was a chiropractor or masseuse in the house. Sure enough, there was. And the whole show was put on hold for 20 minutes. Those guys did a blues jam without me while I got worked on. Then there was a show in Munich where I dislocated my wrist. It was the last song and I guess I bit off more than I could chew with the fill. The next thing I know it felt like I pulled a muscle, but I looked over and my wrist was completely snapped backwards. I turned blue and I immediately slammed my wrist back into place and had to stick my wrist in a bucket of ice. Luckily, it was the last song. I did the encore with one hand because the crowd was phenomenal and I didn’t want to rip them of the encore. But that was scary. That’s two examples of why I should stretch,” he says, as if to admonish himself.

With the last chords of the Satriani band still ringing in the Oakdale Theater, DT assembles in the dressing room. Portnoy casually asks Petrucci and Rudess what color jersey he should wear to match his shorts. Rikk Fullner shows up with the “bit box,” a secure lock box that contains the band’s valuables while they are onstage, so a stray wedding band doesn’t fly off into the crowd. The refrigerator is stocked with Snapple, Red Bull, and spring water. Fullner does the tuck and plug with Portnoy’s ear monitors, the band talks through the set list, gives each other a high-five and heads off to the stage, where the intra music [Mr. Bungle] plays. The crowd rises to their feet to cheer the band as they launch into “New Millennium.” For 80 minutes, Portnoy is a man completely in his element. He badgers, encourages, and jokes with the crowd, flipping his sticks high in the air and catching them in perfect time to the downbeat. He sings into his mike, the boom flawlessly swung into place by an almost unseen Baraquio.

Two days later in Boston, Portnoy shows up before sound check, buzzing up and down the aisles of the outdoor Fleet Pavilion on his electric motor scooter. In Connecticut, he and Baraquio took delivery of road cases for their scooters, which means they’ll be able to ship them ahead to Europe for the next stretch of the tour. Later on during the show, singer James LaBrie will shuttle across the stage on the scooter during an extended jam.

After sound check and dinner, Portnoy has some time to reflect upon how much the touring experience changed since the band’s first road trip in 1992. “Images and Words had just come out. but it hadn’t broke yet,” he remembers, “so we spent three months touring America in a van. Just a regular van – five band members and our tour manager, and we loved every minute of it because it was our first tour. Forget about the fact that we weren’t sleeping, and we didn’t have hotel rooms, and we were driving ourselves. It was a crash course in touring. Then all of a sudden ‘Pull Me Under’ started hitting on the radio and come January we got our first tour bus. That eventually grew into a bus for the band and crew and a trailer, then a bus for the band and crew and a truck, and now the band has a bus, the crew has a bus, and we have two tractor trailer trucks out there. In fact we even had a third bus at the beginning of this tour because John and I had our families out with us.

“I wouldn’t want to do that pace again, three months in a row. Our booking agent was booking us six out of seven nights. And after the first week of that our singer threw his voice out and we ended up having to cancel shows, so we learned right away, because of the type of music we do, we can’t really go more than three [days] on and one [day] off. That’s the pace we keep now.”

It took a couple years, a lot of hard work and many miles logged to start operating in the black. “We were selling out clubs, but the capacity might be 500 people and the ticket prices were low because we were still new, and we had a big overhead, so really we weren’t breaking the bank. It wasn’t until we started to go to Europe and play big places that we made any money off the road. It takes time to have a track record to build up a reputation to go to the promoters and ask for higher guarantees.”

Portnoy is 35 years old, which raises the natural question of how a man of his age can hop onstage as often as he does and play with such reckless abandon so many nights a year. “I wouldn’t be able to play basketball for 15 minutes or even run around the block,” he laughs. “I’ve been playing drums for 24 years so you condition yourself to play three-hour sets, but I don’t think I could take that adrenaline or that stamina and apply it to things other than drumming. It’s funny, I’m always tired and drained and lethargic. I’m bad like that especially when I’m home – always lazy and sleepy. My wife says to me, ‘How do you play a three-hour show when you can’t even get out of bed and carry the garbage out?’”

It’s almost show time in Boston and drumming buddy Mike Mangini shows up to share some laughs with Portnoy before Dream Theater goes on. Later, while Portnoy is on stage, crazily attacking each song with the strength of a man possessed, Mangini is in the wings and drops his trousers to try to break Portnoy up. Portnoy takes a quick glimpse over to the side of the stage, laughs, sticks out his tongue, and then, as if prodded by an invisible muse, does an astounding fill that travels across the width of his kit. He is in his element – on the road.