Moist

Although the hot-wired guitars, dramatic tension and balls-to-the-great-unknown lyrics on Silver paint Vancouver’s Moist as a big-rocking modern quartet praying to a city to the southeast, David Usher’s weedy voice and a carefully controlled loud-pop sensibility suggest the quintet might owe equal loyalty to the arena-kings of Toronto, Rush. Moist was able to get itself chosen for the bottom of the bill (under Hole and Metallica) at Molson’s summer-of-’95 festival inside the Arctic Circle; that doesn’t improve the turgid heap of poorly executed and derivative mediocrity that is Silver, however.