Explosions in the Sky perform at The Fox Theater in Oakland on Sept. 16, 2019. Joaquin Cabello/STAFF.

SAN FRANCISCO —“Cinematic rock” has become a cliche of sorts, but it holds true for Texas instrumental quartet Explosions in the Sky. And while plenty of instrumental indie rock bands have sprung up over the last several years, few of them have garnered as hardcore a following as Explosions.

The band, which gave itself its name after hearing fireworks on the Fourth of July, skip the usual verse-chorus-verse in the music. Their songs usually take between five and 12 minutes to build up, explode and slow back into silence again.

They have been on tour for the last year in support of their latest album, “All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone.”

When, a few months back, a show was scheduled at the Great American Music Hall for this week, it quickly sold out. A second show was added and tickets for it soon disappeared. A third concert was booked. Recently, tickets for the third night sold out as well.

At the second show Friday, it was easy to see why. Without saying a word, the band’s songs evoked not just mood but time of day, urgency or calmness, and were able to put the people inside the music hall into the middle of the story.

Being at the show was like sitting in a little rowboat all by yourself in the middle of a lake. At times the song moved slowly, the sun was shining and you could enjoy all the pretty scenery. Then a storm would come, the thunder would roar, the wind would howl and it was terrifying — and still a thrill.

Without lyrics, it was difficult to pick out what song the band — guitarists Mark Smith, Munaf Rayani and Michael James (who also plays bass) and drummer Chris Hrasky — was playing. But words or songs names seemed unnecessary because the songs led directly from one to another. It was like sitting in on a symphony with its many parts, which all connect to tell a single story.

Every chime of the guitar and every drumbeat had its place and painted a part of the picture. Playing with a Texas flag strung up behind them, the four men onstage appeared to be in a trance. They swayed and convulsed with the music. If someone was to have tapped one of them on a shoulder, the band member might not have noticed it.

The show was opened by Rob Lowe, formerly of the Chicago band 90 Day Men, who went by the moniker Lichens. The performer had a clear preference for nature music, as he built a song out of a slow, steady bass, bird chirping noises and scant guitar picking, using looping to keep the music going.

His performance was also cinematic — just not in a good way. The scene: You are sitting on a park bench at dusk, listening to birds. Then you fall asleep and wake up the next morning. Someone has stolen your shoes and your wallet, and the same song is still on.

To give you an idea of how long the song went on: It was the only one he played.

Follow editor Roman Gokhman at Twitter.com/RomiTheWriter.