Blitzen Trapper live in Bristol

BT have had a long strange trip from the scratchy backwoods lofi of their earliest records, through the breakneck junkshop clatter of early high Wild Mountain Nation, which mashed together searing riffs (title track, Miss Spiritual Tramp) and a stew of country, funk and weird synth-aided sideways pop gems, and then stone classic Furr which expanded on that sound and smoothed it slightly.  They followed that with a baroque folk-rock masterpiece Destroyer of the Void, and then zig-zagged again to the prog-tinged good-time bar-rock of American Goldwing, only to then drop what I can only describe as an Appalaichan funk record, VII.  All this led to the unlikely Springsteenian dirty-nailed pomp of their last couple of records, the most recent of which, Wild and Reckless, sprang from a theatrical show they staged in their hometown of Portland.  Lack of vision or ambition never a problem for these boys.

So it's telling for me when halfway through their set in the Fleece on a rainy Monday, Eric Earley forgets the words to the lead track of their current album.  Where was I, he asks after a quick gulp of water and a zoned-out apology.  Hell if I know, hard to say where BT are going to be from one song to the next, but that's always been part of their genius for me.  The big question going into this gig was which BT am I going to see tonight?

They open (early!) with Fire & Fast Bullets from Furr, which they deliver with controlled aggression, and then forge a jagged path between their more anthemic recent sound, and selected gems from much earlier work such as the iconic title track of Furr (crowned with terrific harmonies from Marty Marquis and Brian Koch) and Astronaut from American Goldwing, which is every inch the shimmering cosmic trip.

A big surprise is how some of what I had characterised as 'straighter' material unfolds new dimensions on stage - Thirsty Man from VII spirals into a crazy jam completely untethered from the recorded version, and the climactic raves-ups of All Across This Land and Wild and Reckless are transformingly uplifting in person.  On the way there Eric drops a string of gorgeous solo numbers, including The Man Who Would Speak True, the only song from Destroyer tonight, which shares a similar hallucinatory apocalyptic vibe with Black River Killer, also given an outing.

It's been ten years since BT played Bristol, and if I had to wait another decade I'd count it worth my while.