Bikini Kill singer Kathleen Hanna, left, and drummer Tobi Vail perform Friday night at State Theatre in Portland. Photo by Robert Ker

It was legends night at the State Theatre on Friday. Bikini Kill, a pioneering group of the feminist punk movement known as riot grrrl, made its first appearance in Portland, just 34 years after its inception in Olympia, Washington. Original members Kathleen Hanna (vocals), Tobi Vail (drums) and Kathi Wilcox (bass) were joined by touring guitarist Sara Landeau to sprint through a number of their groundbreaking songs, with an emphasis on their mid-1990s albums “Pussy Whipped” and “Reject All American.”

The stage presentation contained no frills – unlike most performers at this level, there were no backdrops or projection, no LED lights and no fancy risers. They let the music speak for itself with a language that was pummeling, energetic, thoughtful and positively stuffed with melodic hooks. Between songs, the band members spoke at length about whatever crossed their minds, relaying their opinions and general ethos like old friends. Vail, in one of several turns at the microphone (which pushed Hanna to bass and Wilcox to drums) discussed her love for zine culture and the need to keep it going. Hanna, who recently published her memoirs, talked about her past and expressed her feelings about the upcoming election by singing a line from Lana Del Rey’s “hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have – but I have it.”

When seeing the band in person, one responds to the visceral effect of their music and how songs like “Suck My Left One” blur the lines between rage and joy. One also reflects on their clothing, which seems very intentional as part of the presentation. In their dress, they eschew all stereotypes and what might spring to mind when you think about “punks” (denim, leather, black clothing, etc.) in favor of brightly colored clothing that you might wear to a rave or dance club. Hanna went so far as to the skirt the line between outfit and costume, wearing a glittery top, a poofy skirt and tights, having fun with traditional ideas of femininity.

Of course, if a punk is fortunate to live long enough, they eventually become subversive about age in addition to all else, and that applies here, too. Hanna’s dance moves are akin to how a small child might perform – arms twirling, herky-jerky movements, flopping like a rag doll before springing back to life. She reacts to the music by doing whatever feels good in the moment, daring to ask the question: Why don’t we all react to music this? When did we lose this impulse? This notion also underscores the inherent simplicity of punk – with the right amount of confidence, you can also do this, and part of Bikini Kill’s appeal from the start was its ability to inspire that confidence in other women.

That initial impact created ripples that have now spanned generations. Those who were teenagers in the 1990s, when Bikini Kill was in its Walkman all over the pages of publications like Spin magazine, were now bringing their kids to this Portland gig. This created a beautiful all-ages affair that offered new resonance for lyrics like “Dare ya to do what you want/ Dare ya to be who you will” from “Double Dare Ya.”

At one point, Hanna reflected that she last performed in Portland in 1989 with her band Viva Knievel. Shortly afterward, she and her bandmates formed Bikini Kill and released their demo cassette “Revolution Girl Style Now,” which featured that song. The band’s debut in Portland was a long time coming, but worth the wait.

Robert Ker is a freelance writer in Portland. He can be reached at bobzker@gmail.com.

This story has been updated to correct the name of the touring guitarist. Her name is Sara Landeau.