Bushwick-based Moist Ahoy did not have an idyllic formation. Conscripted by a ruthless Admiral, life was hard on the high seas. They recall fondly only the times after the Admiral was at rest, joining together in dischordant harmony to sing their sorrows to the earless blue desert you call the ocean.

Nobody can quite remember the storm, but they all remember that first moment waking up on the shores of Newton Creek. As they pulled one another up and continued the slow trudge forward, one thing was clear. It's not the man on the ship, it's the ship in the man.

This is Moist Ahoy.