In a world of nonconformity, Dream Theater are strident nonconformists. For nearly 40 years they have defiantly bucked the trends and ignored metal's prevailing winds. They have managed to operate in their own cryogenically sealed bubble, immune from passing fashions or fads. They initially emerged at a point in time when everything had gone short and spiky (song length, hair length, and stature of lead singers) and they defiantly ploughed their own field. Resolutely un-vogue from conception, they have built a fevered fan base through word of mouth, hard work, and by never wavering from their steadfast belief that more is definitely more.

Tonight marks the start of their second promotional foray to this country in support of last year’s “View from the Top of the World". It's a very civilised all seated affair and feels more akin to a classical recital than a rock 'n' roll show. In fact, this is probably the closest we get to the world of opera and orchestration as tonight is much more about sitting back and bathing in the brilliance of the musicianship on show than it is about indulging in the self-gratification of audience participation. But before we gorge on the sumptuous beauty of Dream Theater we have an aperitif to cleanse our palate (i.e. there is a support act).

Arion hail from Finland and they trade in the most unapologetic form of power metal. Full of crescendoing keyboards and rich soaring riffs, it's all big, bombastic, and unapologetically widescreen. Against an audience that isn't going to stand up and very clearly isn't there to see them, they fayre remarkably well. They have a bouncy, infectious sensibility that makes them very difficult to dislike. Lassi Vääränen hops around the stage like some hyperactive CBeebies presenter. He knows that audience reaction is going to be an uphill struggle, but he is determined that his enthusiastic persona will win out. They are not really bringing anything new to the power metal party, but they still manage to be intrinsically enjoyable. Their short set never drags and as it reaches its conclusion the stoic faces in front of them are beginning to thaw. They have done their job and the crowds parting gift to them is a well-deserved final ovation.

Dream Theater shows are always immersive affairs. They provide an opportunity to become lost in the tsunami of technical brilliance. Tonight is no exception. Opening salvo ‘The Alien’ is an intricately constructed labyrinth of interconnected musical refrains. Within its 9-and-1/2-minute length, it consists of more notes than most bands use in their entire careers. There is no subtlety here and pretty much no humility. The individual members of Dream Theater are very aware of their heightened level of musical talent, and they are not afraid to flaunt it at each and every opportunity.

From my perspective, James LaBrie seems to spend more time on stage than usual. His previous operating model has been to disappear into the wings as soon as the long-elongated instrumentals kick in (which is often). However, on numerous occasions this evening, he hangs around elegantly dad dancing by the drum riser. There are passages where his vocal struggle and it is obvious that he doesn't quite have the octave range that he once did. But then there are other points where he utterly knocks it out of the park, delivering shrill crip screeches that will put others to shame. But come on, do we really go and see Dream Theater for the vocal acrobatics? Tonight, as it is every night, is about celebrating the astounding abilities of the four people that stand behind James and no fluctuating octave is going to stop them from being an exhilarating experience.

One of the utter joys of seeing Dream Theater live is watching the individual members create. Your eyes flit from Jordan Rudess with its state-of-the-art tilting and twirling keyboard stand to John Petrucci and his seemingly endless array of effects pedals, changing the tone of his guitar with a mere flick of his foot. The music they create is exquisite and you feel like you are watching magicians as opposed to musicians, as you really have no idea how the hell they are doing it.

It is less than 12 months since they were last on our shores and to compensate, aside from the obligatory visits to the new album, they provide a completely different set to the one that they played last April. Fan favourite ‘Pull Me Under’ is back in situ, as is the sprawling ‘Caught In a Web’ from “Awake”. However, the most overt outpouring of joy is saved for the appearance of the final three components of the “Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence” suite (we are in the court of Dream Theater, it's not a song it's a suite). ‘Solitary Shell’ elongates into ‘About to Crash (Reprise)’ which then crescendos into ‘Losing Time/Grand Finale’. It is utterly magnificent and the swirling ever-changing time signatures dance around our heads like ethereal ballerinas.

The title track of the latest album brings tonight's proceeding to an expected false ending. The visuals accompanying it on the state-of-the-art screen behind them are stunning and provide an effective complement to the ever-changing sonic density. As Jordan plays the cello on his iPad, the accompanying footage of the deep ocean gives the whole thing additional resonation. But of course, we are not done and once the pantomime of the pre-encore exit is dispensed with, they return for the opulent extravagance that is ‘The Count of Tuscany’. Twenty minutes in length and containing more passages than the entire catacombs in Paris, it is an incredible piece of work that manages to stay on just the right side of pretentious and pompous. It is full of oscillating musical waves that crash against you in pulsating succession. James encourages us to sing along with him as we reach its emotionally drenched conclusion and as one the audience finally throws off the shackles of the seated environment and stand up.  

The extraordinary thing about tonight is that whilst the key ingredient was the virtuoso musical dexterity of the band’s five members, there was no grandstanding or pointless soloing. Yes, there was an awful lot of showing off, but it was as part of the twelve tracks aired. Nobody felt the need for futile demonstrations of their prowess. Instead, and highly effectively, their brilliance was saved for the songs played. Having stood through hundreds of needless solos, I would say that a lot of bands can learn from Dream Theater. They were magnificent, but resolutely on their own terms and you can't say fairer than that.