Image not from Friday’s show

31 Knots @ Doug Fir, Friday April 11

It’s been a bit since Portland’s snarling stalwarts 31 Knots took the stage. Frontman Joe Hague has been dabbling in Tu Fawning, a infinitely more mellow project with his girlfriend Corrina Repp. But that time away from 31 Knots hasn’t slowed or dulled their attack. In fact, it may have helped fill the Doug Fir this Friday night — it wasn’t a sellout, but certainly well attended.

Hague began in the audience, perched atop the log railing in a dark room, shining his own light. A laptop intro played as he wove through the crowd to the stage. The band crashed in as Hague maniacally flailed back and forth across the stage, mic in hand. He bumped and shook guitarist/bassist Jay Winebrenner hard, making sure to share the energy, a jumpstart for the adrenal glands.

They charged through a few songs before Hague took the guitar and Winebrenner picked up the bass. It was with this configuration 31 Knots most effectively swung around their full weight. A product of some 10 years together, the angular interplay between Hague and Winebrenner is fierce. (The history must also explain the group’s ability to stay sharp despite having just “seven practices a year,” as Hague told the audience). Winebrenner’s punchy, rapid-fire basslines are at times quite technical, but mostly avoid going over the top and remain in the pocket.

(It would also be unfair for me to go further without mentioning drummer Jay Pellicci, who rips. Let’s just say this: I brought a drummer friend with me who is fucking unbelievable, and made a point of praising Pellicci. He usually doesn’t.)

Changing jackets and ties and hats throughout the set while the band played, Hague strutted like a maniacal preacher either performing—or perhaps receiving—an exorcism. But when the music stops, so does the persona. In-between songs Hague’s deranged focus flips off like a switch. He is humble and shy and makes silly jokes to the audience.

The trio then rumble through three new songs in a row. Hague apologizes for it, but the new cuts are easily the strongest of the set, and they highlight the band’s progression.

Compartmentally, in the amount layers and technicality of the riffs, 31 Knots have grown more complex. There are lots going on. But as a whole, the songs have become more accessible, immediate and catchy—a perfect delivery vehicle for vehement rants on consumerism, the nature of man and God knows what else.

Hauge moved back into the crowd for the show’s emotional high. He stripped down to his white-fronts all while creating a small mosh pit, shouting and playing and sweating. Shortly after, the band left the stage but the crowd stayed—pleading with an encore that must have lasted two or three minutes.

When the band came back, it was clear why the took the time. Hague had donned a magnificent pseudo marching band uniform, complete with a very tall, very furry hat. It was light for a minute, but what the show really offered that night was cathartic, loud, and frantic—Friday night, rock and roll church.