Around lunchtime the day after playing the biggest headlining show of their careers, the five members of the band Twin Peaks gathered at their practice space on Chicago’s Northwest side, each member looking some combination of tired, hungover, and shell-shocked. Unlike most tour days, they had all slept in familiar beds the night before, but it was clear they had left it all on the field for their sold-out show at Chicago’s Riviera Theater. “I’m so fucking sore,” remarked drummer Connor Brodner, who had practically obliterated his drum set over the course of their 21-song-set. When someone reminded them that they were going on at 11:00 that night at The Empty Bottle, the legendary dive bar, the group let out a collective groan.

The touring life is hard on any band, but a Twin Peaks show is a uniquely physical experience. If the Dudes, as they’re affectionately known by their fans, hadn’t made a career out of music, they could have opened a line of boutique fitness spots specializing in the Twin Peaks workout: a relentless hour or two of dancing, kicking, jumping, and screaming, set to garage rock. Substitute water with Miller High Life and do it 100+ nights a year and you’d be feeling pretty beat, too.

Twin Peaks—Cadien Lake James (guitar, vocals), Jack Dolan (bass, vocals), Clay Frankel (guitar, vocals), Colin Croom (guitar, keys, vocals), and Brodner—got their start in 2010, when the members were still in high school, playing shitty house parties. (None of them had seen David Lynch’s show when they picked the name; Chicago legend has it the name was chosen because James and Dolan are both kind of tall.) But as they’ve moved up to 2,500-person theaters and major Bonnaroo slots, every Twin Peaks set retains all the qualities of a basement rager.

Case in point: the Dudes open most shows by covering Today's Hits’ “What Up Dawg,” a frat rock barnstormer that sets the tone for the thrashing guitars and bellowed harmonies to come. At The Riviera, they were one chorus in when a man in a hockey jersey pushed past two security guards, hopped on stage, and began belting the lyrics into Frankel’s mic. “I thought he was a crazy person at first,” said Frankel, but it turns out it was James Swanberg—also known as the guy who wrote the song. Swanberg hopped off stage, but not before he and Frankel shared a Madonna-Britney-style kiss. The crowd went nuts.