The Yellow Dogs risked everything to become famous rock stars under the shadow of a repressive regime, but after a former friend went on a shooting spree last week, the Iranian band seems destined to be known for the untimely death of two of their members.

On Monday night, friends and family, along with fans loyal and new, gathered in an attempt to preserve their legacy, remembering the murdered artists' vibrant lives instead of dwelling on the tragedy and grisly headlines.

Bands from New York and around the world gathered at Brooklyn Bowl, a bowling alley and musical venue in north Williamsburg where the Yellow Dogs had previously performed. The surviving members of the Yellow Dogs, Siavash "Obash" Karampour and Koory Mirzeai had announced the concert on Sunday night. “Tomorrow night we are having the memorial for our brothers, your legacy will live forever,” they wrote on Twitter. Earlier in the week they had vowed to continue playing.

Last week, Ali Akbar Mohammedi Rafie shot and killed two members of the band, Arash and Soroush Farazmand, as well as their roommate and fellow musician Ali Eskandarian, at their apartment on 318 Maujer Street in Brooklyn. Rafie then turned his gun on himself. The senseless shootings struck to the core of the borough’s closely knit coterie of musicians, as well as New York’s Iranian community.

According to the Yellow Dogs’ representative, the concert had been arranged by friends of the band and a booking agent for the Bowl, and the performers had come together in support of and friendship with Karampour and Mirzeai. The proceeds of the concert are intended to go to the victims' family members and "help with the costs incurred by the tragedy."

The show began with a reading and acoustic performance by Johnny Azari, who had played with Eskandarian and other Iranian expatriots in a band called Freedom Glory Project, born out of the Green Movement in 2009. Azari read a short poem, “Reflections on a Murdered Friend". “This horror will not let my memory of Mr Eskandarian go to the dogs of hate and madness,” he said. “I shall remember him as a man who wanted to unburden hearts with a song, tear down governments with pure volume, and fight for art and humanity til he was gray and old.” Azari then launched into the Freedom Glory Project’s anthem, “Freedom Glory Be Thy Name”, his gravelly voice reminiscent of Johnny Cash at his most elegiac.

King Rahm of Hypernova, also a member of the Freedom Glory Project, had come to pay tribute as well. “I just wanted to be here to remember the guys,” he said, before being encircled by a group of close friends.

The organizers were determined to keep the mood upbeat. “Baby Where Did Our Love Go?” and “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch” played throughout the Bowl as the room filled up and a montage of Yellow Dog rehearsals flashed on almost every screen in the venue.

But just one week later, emotions were still raw. “I’m not ready to talk about it,” said a young woman who sported dreadlocks and said she had been friends with the Yellow Dogs.

For most of the evening, people milled about in small groups; some young with wild hair, caftans, and cocktails; others older, obviously parents or relatives coming to grieve or support those who were affected directly. There were long breaks between acts by Shirin Neshat, the Iranian artist, and Kyp Malone, of TV On the Radio, during which attendees could sign a memorial board for the fallen rockers. But most chose to stand together on the dancefloor, taking delicate sips of beer and seeking comfort in each others’ company.

Many who attended couldn’t walk more than a few feet into the venue without being enveloped in a warm embrace. Everyone seemed to know each other, and everyone shared some connection to the Yellow Dogs.

Darya Rosikaina, 22, was there because her friend had dated a band member. John, a guitarist in his twenties, had come to support his Persian friends. “Everybody knows them, and nobody had a problem with them,” said Francois Vauxelaire, a 32-year-old from Belgium who had gotten to know the two slain brothers, Arash and Soroush Farazmand, because one of his friends had gone out with a member of the band. He recalled spending late nights with the group. “Someone was [home] at all hours of the day. You could end up there at 3am,” he recalled.

Prior to the concert, Cameo Gallery in Brooklyn had hosted a silent, candle-lit memorial service with friends, family, and well-wishers. “There were so many people there from all different backgrounds,” said one concertgoer, who still clung to one of the pink roses handed out during the vigil. “A few people spoke,” she added. “It was very beautiful, really incredible.”

Cameo Gallery (@cameogallery) Always In Our Hearts #YellowDogs pic.twitter.com/awSgft1bf2

Nady had come to Brooklyn Bowl support her daughter, who was one of the organizers of the Brooklyn Bowl concert. An avowed fan of No One Knows About Persian Cats, a semi-fictional film featuring the Yellow Dogs, she still struggled to make sense of the tragedy that has struck such a chord with the community.

“In Iran, guns are not in the hands of people. There are a lot of guns, but not in the hands of the people. Here, the guns are in the hands of the people,” she said.

As often happens when a band makes headlines, no matter how tragic, the Yellow Dogs had also picked up some new fans that week. Sara Rezaeian, a 26-year-old architect hadn’t heard of the Yellow Dogs until their tragic death. “I just came to see. Really I don’t know much about them. It was a last minute decision, my friend told me about this,” she said outside the concert. After reading about the band in the news, she had decided to check out their music and decided that “I really, really like them.”

Medhi Ghazi, had considered himself more of a classical music fan before encountering the Yellow Dogs. He had just started to get into their music when tragedy struck. Feeling obligated to pay his respects, he’d decided to come to the Brooklyn Bowl on Monday, even though it wasn’t his usual scene. “Maybe it’s not so good to have this in a bowling alley,” he said, “But it’s good how the [Iranian] community comes together.”