sound

Borrowing Dustine’s bit, I must do a full disclosure here: this brewery is somehow co-owned or co-run or co-founded by a friend’s wife. So I got this for free, with the expectation that I don’t say anything bad about it publically.

I had another one of Sound’s beers and it struck me as a drinkable mess. Not bad at all, but a beer absolutely without a place. Normally you’d chalk that up to someone who didn’t know what they were doing, never took that weird correspondence brewer’s course where they tell you how to identify different varieties of hop by the way the cones look when you pour peroxide on them. But Sound’s marketing ethos is all about smashing through tradition. Only they do so in confounding way, proudly announcing their upper west coast caucasian-ness, replete with evocations of Romantic-era newsprint and unnecessary paper wrapping around the labels. It’s charming, but there’s a sense of existential discord, like if Kelsey Grammer’s Fraiser began calling himself a punk rocker.

But, drinkable, like I said. And interesting. But my critical frame wasn’t set. I wasn’t sure if it was genius or filth. I mean, yes, it was probably neither, but here at the beer hole we prefer to keep things violent and declarative, so each post is like a bottlerocket or a lynching.

This here brew—this Monk’s Indiscretion—is far too competently done to be fully accidental. But it’s also not of any place or style, so I guess the whiteperson blandishments of its packaging aren’t entirely bullshit (which makes them very different from your average whiteperson blandishments).

Umm… tastes like a good Belgian but also not quite like a good Belgian? Worth trying? I mean, yes, grab one. Ignore the question mark on that last “worth trying.” Seek it out. Investigate it. Think more deeply about it than I am capable of.

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