If you consider yourself a fan of The Fiery Furnaces, chances are, you’re the type of person who appreciates a good surprise. Though the siblings Friedberger debuted in 2003 with Gallowbird’s Bark, a fairly straightforward (if surprisingly literate) take on bluesy garage rock, things quickly took a turn for the weird. The band returned only a year later with the 76-minute Blueberry Boat, a delightfully overstuffed homage to the rock operas of the Who that crammed squelchy Moog lines, blues riffs, church organs and Broadway melodies into miniature epics about lost dogs, pirates and misplaced lockets. While the album’s sudden twists and turns felt like aural overload on first listen, many fans and critics found the makings of a masterwork in the record’s labyrinthine assembly and spiraling narratives. As if to prove that they are capable of producing great pop songs as well (on the rare occasion that they feel like it), the band followed with the terrific singles-collecting EP in 2005.

Just when it seemed like the Fiery Furnaces were destined to cement their role as critical darlings, the band released Rehearsing My Choir, one of the most divisive records in recent memory. A sprawling concept album narrated mostly by the duo’s 89-year-old grandmother, Olga Sarantos, Rehearsing My Choir was your classic case of overreach by an overly-ambitious young band: an album that worked as a concept but not as an album. Having effectively alienated all but the most hardcore Furnaces fans, the band pressed on, releasing the comparatively accessible Bitter Tea last year. The Fiery Furnaces may have only been around for a few short years but if you’re still with them at this point, you’re probably in it for the long haul.

The upshot to this strange trajectory is that within only a few years, the Furnaces have managed to cultivate a very specific breed of fan. This fact was evidenced by the band’s choice of opening act: Hawthorne, California neo-psych rockers dios. Switching up tempos, styles and moods unexpectedly yet seamlessly throughout their set, dios might just be the sort of band that only a Fiery Furnaces fan could love. Anchored by lead singer Joel Morales’ dreamy, Wayne Coyne-esque vocals, a dios song might begin with gentle fingerpicking and hushed vocals only to give way to buzzing synths, an extended psych freakout or a punk breakdown. Especially notable was the band’s goggle-wearing drummer who alternated between looming over his set with a zombie-like expression on his face and punishing the drums so hard that he bounced sticks straight off of his floor tom. “Don’t pay attention to him,” Morales joked at one point. “He likes that.” Before finishing their set, the band even gave a tip of their hat to D.C.-by-way-of-L.A. hardcore history with a well-received cover of Black Flag’s “Nervous Breakdown.”