Call it Macedonia’s answer to moshing.

At a rooftop show by the Raya Brass Band in Bushwick last summer, a crowd of hipsters followed the lead of one informed audience member and started dancing madly around the musicians, as often happens with music from Raya’s chosen area of concentration: the Balkans.

Except it was one in the morning, most of the audience didn’t know what they were doing and many were more than a bit drunk.

“People just started dancing more and more furiously until they started crashing into us,” says trumpet player Ben Syversen. “They started falling down. They knocked over our tuba player. It was chaos.”

It was also a blast, Syversen admits — no surprise considering the unhinged energy and dizzying skill of Raya’s horn style. For the last three years, this five-man band has used a pumping trumpet, clarinet, tuba and accordion to animate instrumental music deeply indebted to areas like Greece and Eastern Europe.

Their hyperventilating take on the region’s music has made them one of the bright young lights in a growing local scene dedicated to the style. It’s peopled by bands like Veveritse, Ansambl Mastika, Slavic Soul Party and the granddaddies of the scene: The Zlatne Uste Brass Band.

The latter band will host a huge love-in for this music, and its connected styles, this weekend at the Grand Prospect Hall in South Slope, Brooklyn. Dubbed “The Golden Festival,” the two-night marathon has been going for 27 years now.

Interestingly, no one in the Raya Brass Band has a ounce of Balkan blood in them.

“We’re just people who latched onto it,” Syversen says. “It brought out a very emotional reaction in us.”

Each member came to his fascination with the region in his own way. Though the players came up knowing jazz, punk, and other rock styles, a few attended the Balkan-music workshops held in the Catskills each summer.

Accordionist Matthew Fass caught the bug on a trip through Macedonia where he happened to see a local brass band. Tuba player Don Godwin worked in New Orleans music for 10 years, but recognized a link between that city’s brass music and the kind from this region.

“There’s a common language,” Syversen says. “They didn’t directly influence each other but there are many connections.”

You can hear that clearly in the funky play of a song like “Djevadov Cocek,” which opens the Raya Band’s just-released debut, “Dancing on Roses, Dancing on Cinders.” (Like all but three songs on the CD, it’s a traditional piece). The horns in this song, and others, have a funk that sounds like a lost cousin to songs of the Crescent City.

Though some of the players have known each other for a decade, Raya didn’t form until three years ago. (The name means “friend” or “of the people”). The band has played all over the city, from Greek weddings to Russian baths to hip clubs in Williamsburg and the East Village. The fact that they perform over 100 dates a year helped them master the daunting form of this all-instrumental music.

“You have to work at this stuff to learn the language of it,” Syversen says.

It’s not just the unending velocity of the music that makes it tricky. It’s the manic shifts in time-signature throughout a given piece.

“We play songs in 7/8, 9/8 and one in 18/8,” says Syversen. “And some parts are stretched in a way that doesn’t have a steady pulse.”

To make matters more complicated, all the songs correspond to specific dances which some in many crowds know well. “The great thing is,” Syersen says, “even if you don’t know the meter, you can wiggle your ass to it.”

The dancing has become an extra draw for the band. “It means the audience is all around us,” Syversen says. “It gives it a sense of community.”

That community finds its apex at the Golden Festival, which bangs and crashes on for hours, until two in the morning on Saturday night, with scores of bands taking part.

“If you want to discover what this whole Balkan thing is about,” Syversen says, ”this is the one party you have to go to.”