It was obvious by the time a twisted psych rock crescendo set a match to “Honky Tonk Flame.” Or when he popped off an eight-minute comedic rant about the sorts of folks he’d like to personally infect with rabies (hypothetically, of course). Or maybe even when he unleashed those manic vocals during the scratched-and-hollered curveball rocker the country singer threw for a swaggering first pitch.

Regardless of when exactly it dawned on fans who filled Climate Pledge Arena, a locked-in Tyler Childers was in a wildman’s groove Friday when he played an overdue Seattle show that fans will be talking about for a while.

The outsider country star and his seven-piece band had the burners on full blast from the jump, cooking with gas on the hopping piano country rocker “Rustin’ in the Rain” before slowing things down with the tenderized favorite “All Your’n.” The latter was a heckuva lot cuddlier than the quirky, beautifully arranged basher “Down Under,” a song about the dangers of, uh, koalas.

Between the pandemic and his Gorge-sized come-up, it had been seven years since Childers played in Seattle city limits, and the Kentucky-bred artist pulled into town at a creatively polarizing time in his career.

Childers has never seemed overly concerned with what other people might think of his career moves, whether dropping fan favorite songs from his repertoire or releasing statement-making protest albums and music videos. Nevertheless, the chatter around his latest album has been particularly loud.

Working with the renowned and divisive producer Rick Rubin, Childers’ latest album, “Snipe Hunter,” is his most experimental. Not unlike his mentor and former producer Sturgill Simpson did on “Sound & Fury,” Childers strayed from his neotraditional country sound — steeped in working-class Appalachia, bluegrass and folk — to dabble in country-funk, swamp rock and psychedelia.

Despite mixed reviews from longtime fans, “Snipe Hunter” was largely met with critical praise. The playfully spiteful “Bitin’ List,” which takes classic country humor to rabies-nibbling extremes, finally earned Childers his first Grammy win this year for best country song. The tune that would’ve made the late John Prine chuckle was just as feisty live on Friday, preceded by that gut-busting eight-minute monologue that flashed Childers’ kooky charisma. At times it seemed like the quick-tongued entertainer was auditioning for a job as a variety show host, up there in front of a bandstand that looked plucked from a ‘70s TV studio or a smoky Las Vegas showroom.

The “Snipe Hunter” material made Childers’ two-hour set much more dynamic, with songs like the stomping, smoldering swamp rocker “Dirty Ought Trill” adding welcome, hard-boogieing wrinkles between more conventional, radio-averse country fare. Then again, Childers’ lonesome voice was plenty dynamic on its own, laid bare across acoustic guitar strums on “Lady May,” delivered solo from a satellite stage out in the crowd. 

Pleasing fans less inclined to get freaky with the new stuff, Childers also drew heavily from his breakthrough period of 2017’s “Purgatory” and follow-up “Country Squire,” his two most essential albums. Delivered amid an extended closing run, older fan favorites “Whitehouse Road” and a crackling “House Fire” were slam dunk crowd pleasers, the latter chasing the rambunctious garage rocker “Snipe Hunt.”

For old-school fans, one of the quibbles with “Snipe Hunter” is that the songwriting often lacks the emotional weight of Childers’ finest work. (What, koala songs aren’t doing it for you?) While true on the whole, the new album yielded a studio recording of one of the best cut-to-the-bone songs the 35-year-old has ever written in “Nose on the Grindstone.”

Out on the small satellite stage earlier, sweat glistened on Childers’ furrowed brow as he lunged into the song, recalling a coal miner father’s warning to his son about the perils of addiction. Childers’ voice clawed like a mountain lion — a violin weeping beside him — as the crowd fell silent before the song came to a shivering close.

“I remember your words, Lord, they bring me the chills,” Childers sang with a solemn, soul-stirring flutter. “Keep your nose on the grindstone and out of the pills.”

There’s not a corn whiskey in Kentucky that potent.

Tyler Childers set list

1. “Eatin’ Big Time”
2. “Shake the Frost”
3. “Down Under”
4. “Rustin’ in the Rain”
5. “All Your’n”
6. “Oneida”
7. “Jersey Giant”
8. “I Swear (to God)”
9. “Dirty Ought Trill”
10. “Bitin’ List”
11. “Watch Out”
12. “Lady May”
13. “Nose on the Grindstone”
14. “Follow You to Virgie”
15. “Old Country Church”
16. “Whitehouse Road”
17. “Honky Tonk Flame”
18. “Way of the Triune God”
19. “Snipe Hunt”
20. “House Fire”
21. “Universal Sound”