King Crimson, still awesome after 46 years

Giving over a portion of your set to a synchronized percussion piece performed with virtuosic precision by a trio of drummers is the sort of thing that drives King Crimson's detractors to hurl accusations of indulgence.

But if indulgence isn't your cup of tea you likely knew to avoid the Kimmel Center this weekend, when the legendary British prog band made one of nine stops on its first U.S. tour since 2008.

For those who enjoy the band's blend of bombast, complexity, heavy rock riffs, and chamber music intricacy, Saturday's second two-hour Philly show was packed with impeccably realized highlights from throughout the band's 46-year history. The new "Mark VIII" lineup, the largest in the band's existence, is itself a blend of old and new, with founder Robert Fripp joined by bandmates from each of the last five decades.

The three drummers were given pride of place in the frontline on the stage of Verizon Hall (and in Fripp's new arrangements), with the rest of the band on a riser behind them. Despite his role as the band's mastermind, Fripp stayed demurely seated on the right side of the stage, wearing headphones and facing a bank of gear.

The percussion trio lent explosive force and meticulous clarity to the opening one-two punch of "Lark's Tongues in Aspic, Part One" and "Pictures of a City," the latter conjuring the pile-driver rhythms and steam hiss of an industrial landscape, with Mel Collins nearly becoming a third guitarist during his searing alto sax solo.

For all his professorial bearing, Fripp remains a masterful axeman, whether grinding out crashing chords and serrated lines for his solo on "Sailor's Tale" or elegantly spidering the knotty lines of "Starless."

The fact that King Crimson was playing on the stage usually occupied by the Philadelphia Orchestra seemed appropriate, as their expert musicianship often came off as an example of skilled artists executing challenging compositions rather than a rock band playing songs.

That is, until the encore rendition of "21st Century Schizoid Man," the closest the band has to a signature song but one that has largely been left off of setlists in recent decades. The performance retained the song's knife-edge ferocity, ending the evening with such vitality that it dispelled any idea of nostalgia and planted doubts about the hints that this may be a farewell tour.