Mars Volta goes to new depths

The Mars Volta once enjoyed a certain shock value for its alien assault on the senses that relied on an exotic mash-up of electric jazz and psychedelic rock. The band was audacious upon arrival even by prog-rock standards.

Now five full-length albums into its career, the Mars Volta has a loyal and sizable following that not only wants to look past the band's surface chaos, but also demands a degree of depth.

Sunday at the Orpheum Theatre, the Mars Volta provided that depth, expertly opening up gaping chasms of sonic mayhem and inviting anyone within the packed house who was willing to jump right in.

Fighting against oppressive heat and humidity inside the theater, the band crafted a dizzying two-hour set that commenced with an epic version of "Goliath." The 25-minute excursion was no mere table setter as singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala and guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, the creative engine and founders of the Mars Volta, ran through myriad variations of the song's themes and coaxed likewise from the rest of the octet: guitarist Paul Hinojos, drummer Thomas Pridgen, percussionist Marcel Rodriguez-Lopez, keyboard player Ikey Owens, bassist Juan Alderete, and horn player Adrian Terrazas-Gonzalez.

The band focused on material from this year's "The Bedlam in Goliath," adding to the monstrous opener with equally devastating takes on "Wax Simulacra" and "Ilyena," songs that showcased the group's finely tuned abilities to work the ebb and flow of soloing and ensemble jamming.

Other new songs highlighted a broadening sound palette. "Ouroborous," for instance, built a smoldering blues groove that drew out Bixler-Zavala's inner Robert Plant. And the frantic "Aberinkula" worked in a few lines from Ghostface Killah's "Kilo."

An even more surprising dip into another artist's songbook came when Bixler-Zavala belted out the Standells' Beantown anthem, "Dirty Water," within a sprawling version of "Cygnus . . . Vismund Cygnus." To seemingly prove it could control its roiling grooves and expansive jams, the Mars Volta delivered a fairly compact version of "The Widow," a song that is about as straightforward as the group gets.

But that one tune was a mere respite against a backdrop of mercurial guitar expeditions, muscular drum work, and filigreed keyboard and percussion arrangements. The Mars Volta went deep and connected.