What do you get when you put 600 indie music heads on a boat?
That might sound like the elaborate setup for a joke, but it was the very real question I asked myself as I approached Manhattan’s Pier 36 on a picture-perfect summer Thursday evening, getting ready to board the second annual so-called “indie music boat show.”
Doing anything on a boat in New York City, an island bordered by the Hudson on one side and the East River on the other, isn’t a novel idea. But there was a buzzy air of surreal anticipation flowing through the crowd of millennials and Gen Z 20-somethings that had gathered at the pier’s concrete dock. In front of me, two friends in matching Y2K-era black tops questioned each other about their likelihood of getting seasick. My friend and I, more morbidly, joked about the hypothetical advent of the indie music boat show sinking. Obviously, it was an impossibility, but also standing there, in front of the modest multi-story vessel named Liberty Belle, the boat looked kinda small. Would we all fit? And how the hell would all get to see the show? These questions ultimately ended up being moot.
If there was any reassurance, it's that this wasn’t the boat show’s first rodeo. Launched in August 2023 by Brooklyn-based alt-rock duo Water From Your Eyes, their first at-sea show, with sets from Frost Children, YHWH Nailgun and Momma, immediately sold out. Since then, word-of-mouth whispers and FOMO Instagram clips have enshrined the event into indie music lore. This year, they revived it with the formal title “boat show” and a new lineup: rising industrial glam-punk act Model/Actriz, electronic music duo Kassie Krut and DJ Practice — plus an expanded boat capacity to fit nearly 700 people.
By that measure, the boat was glorified OOMF con. Out on the decks, amid black crossbodies and beige creative director tees, I spotted alt singer-songwriter May Rio and Frost Children’s Lulu and Angel, running around with a raccoon-streak in her hair. Digital cameras of the "It Girl" variety, hot pink, silver and Airhead blue, were the ubiquitous accessory of the night, as were Bass Pro Shop-type camo caps and shorts, paired elegantly with a tank top and, preferably, a lit American Spirit Blue (though I was smoking Camels). Inside, empanadas, hot dogs or a plate of buffet-style food could be purchased for $5 to $10 a pop.
The funny thing about being on a boat is how quickly it can turn any cynical, thick-skinned, NYC realist into a tourist. Pulling away from the docks at sunset, the city’s imposing skyline a slate-colored megalith in the distance, it was suddenly like nobody had ever stepped outside before. The devastating setting demanded 360-degree posing and wind-in-the-hair antics. Everyone I spoke to was in the best mood of their life: “It’s a good vibe already,” an OOMF told me no more than five minutes post-departure. DJ Practice’s pop playlist, filtering through the speakers, perfumed the air like an exquisite breeze. It made us think that everyone not being able to fit into the performance space was maybe a good thing. We couldn’t imagine ever wanting to go back inside.
But showtime came, and we filed to an interior room below deck that was lit up an intense red. Someone remarked that they “made a basement show but on a boat,” which could’ve been a slight but actually felt rather comforting. Outside the arched windows, we’d somehow found ourselves literally a few hundred feet from the Statue of Liberty, but inside, normal show rituals still applied. Everyone bopped to Kassie Krut’s industrial, electronic set and filled out Water From Your Eyes’ performance wall-to-wall. There were cheers and tender moments. Toward the end of their 35 minutes, Water From Your Eyes’ Rachel Brown shared their awe at how their fanbase has made these boat shows a possibility. “You have to trust people to be anywhere at all these days,” they said. “It’s nice that we trust each other with our lives.”
That trust came to a head during Model/Actriz, whose hard and industrial (and highly erotic) set whipped the crowd into a rabid frenzy (no doubt lead singer Cole Haden’s sleazy pirate costume helped in that regard). At least two people were brave enough to crowd surf and the immediate pit that opened up was so extreme and enthusiastic the DJ decks toppled over, perhaps assisted by the boat’s own inherent rocking. The performance highlighted the biggest difference between a boat basement show and regular basement show: On a boat, everything is amplified.
The benefit and curse of being involved in any type of scene is that everything ultimately settles into some kind of routine. Venues become haunts, and going out becomes an exercise in complacency and predictability. On a boat, that all gets stuffed in a bag and shaken up. Music, performance, and the city feel new again from this other vantage point. I’m not saying indie shows on boats need to become routine, but it is sort of brilliant to reconsider the ritual in the context of vessels more associated with Taylor Swift dance parties and, oddly, showcases. Even the underground deserves a moment to venture above deck.
At the docks at 11 p.m., every one bearing a thin layer of sweat, people began filtering out in search of the next party, including Kassie Krut’s Eve Alpert. The show was everything she expected: chill, respectful, not too out of the ordinary if slightly surreal, she said. “The only crazy thing was being so close to the Statue of Liberty.”
Photography: Kevin Condon
