Modern prog rock legends The Mars Volta, took the stage at Saint Paul’s Roy Wilkins Auditorium Monday night knowing the venue wasn’t close to capacity.

Thought by some to be this generation’s King Crimson, TMV may be so far ahead of their time they simply can’t sell out a Monday night Roy show. Yet, the underrated, under-respected group produced an ambitious 150 minute set worthy of a sold out arena.

Those who look to music for religious communion, divination and healing already know The Mars Volta for their euphoric music known to produce deliria, dissociation and sonic effects ranging from exhilarating to distressing.

TMV virgins however, were greeted with Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s lyrical poetry matched with on-stage spinning, jumping, jigging and push-ups on stage, and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez’s blistering guitar solos layered masterfully with flute/saxophone, keys and swirling drums. You’ve got to love a band for whom castanets and cabaça are vital elements to a song.

Kicking off the evening with “Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of),” the band churned through tracks off Deloused in the Comatorium, Frances the Mute, Amputechture and new album The Bedlam in Goliath. Cedric’s dark mane of unkempt locks bouncing violently as he runs over to a theremin to add his own sonic flavor to the elemental layers on “Goliath.”

Say it, say it, say it loud
Say it, say it, say it loud
Hold your heavy burden
In a pocket full of drink that I have drunk
Spit the remnants in your direction
This is the closest to any kingdom that you will come

Amidst a trippy background of a mountainscape, 4-armed lizard man, naked woman and tortoise, TMV melded song outros and intros into musical masterpieces themselves. Rarely did the sonic bombardment cease. And I’ll add it’s refreshing to enjoy a rock band who understand the appeal, use and emotional affect of dynamics — crescendo, decrescendo and yes, rests.

Playing to a much smaller crowd than their May 2005 show, TMV powered through the Roy’s horrible acoustics like the rock legends they are, leaving a lasting impression on this longtime fan — a temporal lobe so full of music I drove home in silence.