A clip of Dogleg concert footage resurfaced once the Michigan band started to tease their upcoming Triple Crown debut Melee: It’s a shaky, 26-second recording of the young, scrappy quartet doing their thing, “punch-dancing out our rage” at what sounds like three different tempos. And then, frontman Alex Stoitsiadis tucks his guitar and attempts a cartwheel. He sticks the landing and the humble crowd shouts in approval. That Dogleg had a flair for the spectacular that wasn’t readily apparent on their solid 2016 EP Remember Alderaan?, missing was the will to risk embarrassment and even grave physical injury to capture everything absurd, audacious, and absolutely awesome about Midwestern emo’s capacity for physical catharsis. Something like their new single “Fox.”

Depending on your age, “Fox” might remind you of Cap’n Jazz, Japandroids, Title Fight, PUP, or probably all four at once, the sort of bands that come around every couple of years playing indie rock at its most hyperbolically anthemic, immediately calling into question the commitment of anyone operating at an even slightly lesser energy. Yet for all of its crowd-pleasing, point-and-shout gestures, “Fox” spends its first two minutes avoiding a traditional chorus or hook, frantically searching for any kind of release as a believably maniacal hometown crowd punch-dances right along with them. And right after the bridge where Stoitsiadis yells about having enough pent-up frustration to disintegrate completely, the point where “Fox” cannot sustain any more anxiety for a second longer, he breaks the tension in the most absurd, audacious and absolutely awesome way possible—he does the fucking cartwheel again. He’ll probably have to do it again at every show for the rest of his life, but more than making “the leap,” “Fox” is Dogleg guitar-wheeling to the next level.