There simply has to be rumblings in the psychology world of adding an entry into textbooks about the Sam Herring Effect.

Acting as a branch of groupthink and crowd psychology, price site the Sam Herring Effect is a phenomenon observed most (in)famously in the titular Future Islands frontman as he manically shuffles, dramatically gestures and amateurly Hopak dances across every stage his band graces like the drunkest uncle to have ever graced a wedding reception. One would assume Herring’s dancing (which, I should mention, also includes occasional arm-licking, full body roaring and sweaty self-flagellation) merely garners negative judgements and so-weird-you-have-to-see-it-again review through YouTube… but then, without thought, you’ve watched a dozen Future Islands videos, dropping the pity and judgement halfway through.

That’s where the Sam Herring effect begins taking its hold.

Thursday’s free Converse Rubber Tracks show was perhaps more susceptible to the ensuing phenomenon due to the fact that it was a) a free show, which allocates a great deal of crowd funding towards alcohol consumption and b) primed by local favorites Bad Rabbits opening. We initially caught Bad Rabbits in our Tumblr infancy back in 2011, but the fact that The Sinclair, never mind basements shows of 2011, could contain this band’s funk rock energy is an absolute feat. Replete with choreographed dance moves that were the right balance of cheesy and enviable, Bad Rabbits somehow moved through a career-spanning set, piling further finishings onto their newest American Love cuts and joy onto their already joy-filled hits from Stick Up Kids. Singer Dua Boakye should easily be up for consideration as Boston’s best hype man/singer combo, keeping shameless clap requests and callbacks going all night as if he won the room over during the first song (which he, to be honest, kinda did).

The Herring effect, unlike its namesake, crept up slowly on The Sinclair as Future Islands opened with the subtle “Back In The Tall Grass”. “Grass” and most songs from last year’s career-defining Singles brought on the warmest response, but a movement was building even during older standbys “Walking Through That Door” and “Balance.” “Someone reminded me that I seem to rip my pants whenever we play in Boston,” Herring noted in his gravely Southern drawl, “and yet I still wore my tightest pair of pants tonight.” Sure enough, a high kick during “Long Flight” resulted in a full rip and Herring hobbling to side stage to duct tape his pants back together.

For virtually any recognized band on the planet, a well documented pants-ripping on stage would’ve constituted a low-level trending Twitter tag and jokes for the rest of the band’s existence, but Herring was instead met with rapturous applause and unabashed dancing as “Doves” restarted the set. “Fuck, you can’t be afraid to live,” Herring added with beer-induced sincerity as “Seasons (Waiting On You)” finally broke the crowd into full-on “drunk at a wedding”-level moves in sync with Herring’s bobbing and weaving.

The Herring effect, as I so hardly understand it, is simple: if a crowd is presented a leader with the right amounts of charisma, passion and confidence to put on the most batshit-crazy performance possible, the crowd will likely respond in solidarity with their most soul-bearing dance moves.

Coupled with the fact that Future Islands as a whole are one of the most locked-in live bands playing dance music today, common praises of Herring and Co. being “underdogs” or worth “rooting for” come naturally, but are ultimately unnecessary. Future Islands won. You can root for or despise them, sure, but as they celebrated the milestone of playing 1,000 shows together this past weekend, they will endure. They will continue ripping their pants, working themselves into passionate sweats, and making the world a slightly more dance-friendly place for it.