It is almost midnight. Almost Easter. Bathed in blue light, a small, cavelike room in the middle of New York’s Bowery is dark, surprisingly quiet and still. As the faithful begin to congregate, a group of young men unassumingly take the stage to set equipment, plug cables, tape down set lists. They are focused and deliberate, perhaps a bit somber, in their tasks. The room fills with pilgrims, traveling from places like Boston and DC, pressing forward in devotion and anticipation until finally there is no room left at the foot of the stage.

The place is Arlene’s Grocery. The band is That Noble Fury. The show is sold out.

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