POP MUSIC REVIEW : Rock Fossils Fuel Trower, His Style Etched in Stone : Not that far removed from yesterday, the guitarist’s first local dates in three years showcase his distinct technique, unchanged but focused.

Dinosaurs! So real! So lifelike!

Sorry, if you want to see Stegosaurus, T. Rex and that bunch, you’ll have to queue up with everyone else today to see “Jurassic Park.” Had you been in attendance at the Coach House on Wednesday, however, you would have gotten to see a well-preserved Trowersaurus rise out of the primordial murk.

The Trowersaurus (Latin name: Robin Trower ) first strode the Earth back in the dim ‘70s and is likely descended from the Hendrixasaur ( Jimius Fuzzfaceus ), though its vision wasn’t as good and it ultimately was doomed by its shorter musical reach.

For a brief time, though, this little thunder lizard ruled over large areas the size of stadiums, judging by tar-pit fossils showing a population of macrame bellbottomus gathered around the Trowersaurus.

Well, enough of that, though guitarist Robin Trower’s concert Wednesday did seem a tad dated. That said, the British guitar hero’s show had elements that are certainly worth preserving.

Even before leaving the confines of Procol Harum in 1972, Trower had begun stepping out with Jimi Hendrix-inspired guitar numbers such as “Song for a Dreamer” on the “Broken Barricades” album.

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Fronting his own trio on the albums “Twice Removed From Yesterday” and “Bridge of Sighs,” he staked out a small zone of Hendrix’s sonic universe, relying particularly on the swirly “underwater” sound effect Hendrix favored in his final year. He also managed to catch some of the late master’s blues-based passion, with playing that was fluidly melodic and full of tension and dramatic dynamics.

That musical tension became a particular trademark: As often as not he would end his phrases on a minor seventh or a third rather than resolve them, leading into a new round of string-wringing before he’d finally allow the solo to come to rest.

Like most other rock guitarists, Trower’s star was pretty well eclipsed by the passionate virtuosity of Stevie Ray Vaughan. That and a tour schedule that brought Trower around about as often as an ice-cream truck diminished his luster in recent years. It didn’t help that the guitarist seemed resolute about avoiding any growth in his music.

Trower seems to have at least rectified his touring situation--these were his first local dates in more than three years--and Wednesday that absence served to remind what a distinctive, even special, style he has, even if it hasn’t grown a whit.

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Like other ‘60s and ‘70s dinosaurs, Trower has started sounding mighty fine compared with a lot of the tone-dead, speed-noodling dreck that has come up in recent years.

Trower--who looks more like frail actor Ray Walston than ever--has a new band and recently played on and co-produced Brian Ferry’s unfortunately moribund new album, “Taxi.”

Neither of these recent events seems to have had any effect on his music. His 13-song set balanced old favorites such as “Too Rolling Stoned,” “Day of the Eagle” and “A Little Bit of Sympathy” with new songs that only differed from the old ones in that they were absolutely forgettable.

His new backing duo is drummer Clive Mngaza and bassist-singer Livingston Brown. Like Trower’s previous vocalists, in Brown he has found a singer with a big husky voice who is a good mimic of his original vocalist, James Dewar. The two played capably but chiefly stayed in the background.

The foreground, as ever, was dominated by Trower’s guitar prowess.

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While many musicians tire of their old material, Trower seemed to derive focus from his, like an actor who knows a play so well he can concentrate on the nuances of his delivery.

Especially in the epic sweep of his “Bridge of Sighs,” Trower’s playing had a heightened drama, ranging over several moody movements before ending with a powerful dynamic build capped with a sudden choke-off.

The new instrumental “Secret Place” hinted that Trower might still learn new tricks, dipping as he did into the languid, jazzy chord solo feel Vaughan assayed on occasion.

The rest of the new songs, however, were tired riff-rock based on blues changes. While able to re-animate his old numbers, it was on these new songs that the guitarist’s limited approach began sounding like a fossil.

One needn’t look any further than Wednesday’s opening act to realize that musical paleontology is all the rage. Cisco Poison is fronted by singer Joe Wood, who, with T.S.O.L., did the whole punk and post-punk bit that was supposed to bury the ‘70s.

Cisco Poison, though, could more aptly be named Bad AC/ZZ Top Co. The quartet does what it does quite well, but it’s absolutely nothing one hasn’t heard done better for the past 20 years.

Guitarist Big Daddy Ray is a capable, if overbusy, string-man, but the whole show here is Wood. With a pompadour, goatee and leather pants, his look straddled at least three generations of rock, though his singing was pure 1975, mixing Bad Company’s Paul Rodgers’ bluesy command with AC/DC’s Bon Scott’s piercing screech.

The band’s eight song set was made up of unoriginal originals and a “heavy” dirt-clod version of “Born Under a Bad Sign,” but Wood took such evident pleasure in delivering them that it was nearly infectious.