Mash Tun Reject
I submitted a piece for the new craft beer journal Mash Tun and was all-but-assured that it would be included. Apparently, it was rejected. I say this because there’s no way for me to actually see the journal, but my name is nowhere on the announced list of authors. Plus, the editor quit replying to my emails. Oh well. I don’t have time to be a writer anyway. Below is what I thought would be a first draft, one that would develop after some suggestions from said editor. No hard feelings, just disappointment.
Update – The editor got back to me and explained that the piece didn’t fit with a few of the historical pieces included in the journal. Some assistant was supposed to respond to my emails but never did. Maybe I’ll try again.
Building International Coalitions Through Beer and Pavement
We live in a world of turmoil and uncertainty. Economies are tanking. Tensions are rising with threats of terror and violence at every corner of the earth. Folks arbitrarily take sides. It’s a distressing time to be a human.
So, we look for escape. We take up hobbies to pass the time or alter our minds with chemicals in order to forget all of our troubles. Our daily lives are consumed with activities and interests that help us ignore the unrest all around us.
I have taken up a few hobbies in the interest of helping me avoid dealing with the chaos of our times. One such hobby involves beer, that of the hand-crafted, artisanal variety as well as the kind I brew in my kitchen. The other hobby has to do with my obsession over independent music, better known as indie rock, although no one really calls it that anymore.
On the surface, these two interests have very little in common, aside from the fact that they’re both my interests. However, I have found that one interest tells me more about the other every day and vice versa. Here we have two industries that defy the current downward trajectory of our economy through continuing expansion, improving distribution, and breaking into mainstream markets. Plus, they bring people together. All this is done by breaking from the status quo, suggesting that whatever is mainstream is maybe doing more harm than good.
There’s a coalition here to be built, a coalition between the craft beer world and indie rock community. You see, these two industries have more in common than they realize. It all comes down to the descriptors I and many of you use to describe beer and music. Craft beer is hard to maintain and develop without its independence while indie rock is nothing without a musician’s craft. This is where indie and craft meet.
I have explored the intersections between craft beer and indie rock for some time now. One aspect is simply the fact that we all love beer and rock music. The other aspect is the intersection between those descriptors “craft” and “indie”. For me it’s obvious, but for others, it’s a stretch.
Craft is generally considered a type of skilled work. Historically, craft has been judged not only on quality but also quantity. In order to maintain a high level proficiency, production had to remain small, manageable. Larger production tends to remove the craft, creating product with increased simplicity and often more defects. As more artisans or workers were needed, the craft was diluted. When craft is increased, volume tends to shrink, but the quality of the output grows exponentially. Independence from corporate interests can insure that the craft remains paramount over profits.
Indie is short for “independent.” To be independent, one must be self-sufficient, free from the tyranny and limitations of corporate decision-makers more intent on making a buck than putting out a good product. Independent rock music and music labels are considered such as they are not a part of corporate owned music factories. There are only 3-4 of these major labels left, but they are huge and deeply connected in corporate industries that have nothing to do with art or music. Still, as these major labels deal with the handcuffs of corporate profit margins, indie labels are free to let their artists create and hone their craft.
Craft and indie need one another, feed on one another. Indie labels happen to demonstrate a fair amount of craft among its artists. This focus is lost in the craft at the majors as the shift is toward making music that satisfies corporate bottom lines takes precedence. And craft brewers are the most independent of beer industry as they provide a higher quality alternative to the three or so corporate beer producers. One could really call them craft rock or indie beer if it was desired and neither would lose meaning.
Now, don’t get me wrong, both indie rock and craft beer have intentions to make money. How else would they exist in a capitalist society? The difference between crafty and independent heroes and their corporate counterparts is that they won’t put profit ahead of the craft or their independence. Sure, some indies and crafties have sold their souls to corporations, but they are the exception not the rule. The indie and craft movements are about small scale and high quality. Corporations don’t know how to do this.
And we’ll gladly pay for whatever indie labels and craft breweries are selling despite higher prices. Even during this recession, indie labels (as well as the stores who sell them) and breweries have seen steady growth. Craft beer especially is growing at an incredible rate. Even during economically hard times, we’ll find the money to support independent, craft producers of our favorite goods because we know that their products are worth it. This is no truer than it is for indie rock and craft beer.
Despite the success indie/craft producers are enjoying, our corporate overlords still rule the markets, but their share is shrinking. The large, corporate breweries are watching their sales drop as is the industry as a whole. However, craft beer continues to grow. The music industry is suffering as well. Yet, more and more indies are popping up all the time and they continue to put out music. If there’s room for these smaller players in their respective industries, then they must be doing something right.
So, the indie and craft markets are what’s king these days. They may not own high percentages of their markets, but they have found sustainable business methods that feature slow, controlled growth and a focus on the craft. They maintain their independence through their success. This is where they intersect. I think there’s a lot we can learn from indie rock and craft beer. That’s where the coalition comes in. Here’s to building international coalitions through beer and Pavement and here’s to indie beer and craft rock.
Now, how did I ever come to this place? How have I made a connection that seems trivial at best and absurd at worst?
There are stories to tell that explain my epiphany. The stories are numerous and varied. Few occurred where I felt this deep connection between both craft beer and indie rock. However, the accumulation of these experiences have led me to this great cause of my life: building international coalitions through beer and Pavement.
Honestly, my first epiphanies happened in the 1990’s and they involved music more often than beer. There was a giddiness I remember feeling waiting for my first Pavement show in the Algora Ballroom in Cleveland, OH. A few weeks prior, I experienced an electrical sensation getting pummeled by Archers of Loaf in the old Columbus venue known as Stache’s. There were the hours pouring over records in my favorite record store, Columbus’ own Used Kids. These moments are etched in my mind forever.
Why did this music mean so much to me? There was an urgency, a hunger, a passion missing in the corporate sludge clogging the airways. These musicians were working stiffs like I am. They were doing something I could have done and they did most of it on their own with what little cash they could scrape together. It was accessible. It was authentic. It was ours.
Craft beer came much later. I suppose I had as much experience with music when I discovered Pavement and Guided By Voices as when I gave up corporate, rice adjunct lager for a Stone Ruination for good. I still remember that night I grabbed a sixer of something bland and a bomber of that epically bitter brew with the menacing gargoyle staring back at me. The night I cracked open that beer, it all changed for me.
There were other beer epiphanies. My first Russian Imperial Stout challenging my ability to finish a single beer in one sitting. The beers from Jolly Pumpkin and Russian River awakening parts of my taste buds I had long since neglected, never once thinking I’d rediscover them in a beer. Then there was the first time I tasted my own brew, realizing that I never learned to play guitar at the same level I learned how to properly dry-hop a beer.
Through all of these discoveries and sensations, the value of craft and independence stood out. From the ashes of DIY movements past rose artisans who create beer and art unlike anything corporate money could ever hope to emulate. Craft beer and indie rock share these values. In this, I find comfort in the human condition that encompasses an authentic even intellectual appreciation for a good beer or ear-shattering album.
So, as you enjoy your next finely-crafted double IPA, dry-hopped on unimaginable amounts of Simcoe or tongue-splitting sour ale, aged in Chardonnay barrels and infected with yeast strains formerly considered unacceptable for human consumption, drop the needle on that Guided By Voices record from your college days. Or when you attend the next Pitchfork-endorsed rock show among the PBR-wielding hipster set, order that imperial stout hidden in the back of the cooler. A coalition is being built through beer and Pavement, a coalition dedicated to craft and independence. It’s time to join us.
It’s All Relative
The boyz from Hot Knives went ape for a box of Founders. They mistakenly confused their booty for the entire lineup[1], but how were these west coasters to know?
Anyway, it’s interesting to hear their take on the beers. For the most part, they know what they’re drinking. The hoppy beers are balanced and lie more east than west when it comes to IPA character[2]. However, where Founders gets it right every time is with their stouts, imperial stouts even. Overall, they were stoked to get something so rare…for LA.
This got me thinking about how regions can have completely different takes on the same products. Founders is based out of Michigan and generally only ships to states in the Great Lakes region along with Missouri and a few other eastern states. To those of us in Missouri, they’re fairly common[3], to the point that a few of these beers are considered disappointments on particular years[4].
The love for regional beers or music by those outside said region is always interesting to me. Beers and bands enjoy a certain kind of love close to home, some genuine and some obligatory. It’s more of an ownership thing that’s tempered by familiarity. A brewery or band succeeds when they get all kinds of love from outside of their homes, love that is based on performance and not just hype.
In the above video, the hipsters[5] were excited by Founders’ hype on the west coast, but they were won over by the imperial stouts. Still, I wonder what the reaction would have been if Founders wasn’t all that good at brewing beer. I know that I’ve had some hyped beers from out of market and were somewhat letdown. Conversely, I’ve had others that did not disappoint, living up to and sometimes passing the hype. In the end, how the beer tasted, looked, and smelled won me over, not the hype associated with a scarcity based on regional distribution/limitations.
This is where I was reminded to appreciate what a rare treat it is that we in Missouri get great beers from Michigan (Founders, Jolly Pumpkin, Bells, etc.), Colorado (Avery, Great Divide, Ska, etc.), New York (Southern Tier, Schmaltz), California (Green Flash, Firestone Walker, Stone, etc.), the Pacific Northwest (Deschutes, Caldera, etc.), as well as places in between and from our own state (Schlafly, Boulevard). However, sometimes it takes an outsider’s appreciation to do the reminding.
Relatively speaking, Founders is pretty common around these parts. However, it’s probably a jolt to these LA food/beer bloggers. It’s the same when someone here shows up with something from Russian River, Three Floyds, or Dogfish Head – all breweries not commonly available in the Show-Me state. Although these breweries are great no matter where you are, they are even that much better where they are not normally found.
It reminds me of the time I saw Guided By Voices play on Coney Island. One summer weekend, a few of us drove all night to see them play in the inaugural Village Voice Siren Fest. As we rolled our collective eyes over the showmanship of the band, the crowd of New Yorkers went completely nuts for windmills and epic kicks.
See, living in Ohio during the 90’s and half of the last decade, one had many opportunities to see GBV in all its glory. I saw or could have seen the band play on every tour from Bee Thousand through Half Smiles of the Decomposed, plus special gigs in between[5]. So, their shtick was pretty played-out for us by then.
The difference was that New York had not been able to experience nearly as much Bob Pollard as we Ohioans had[6]. To them, it was all new or at least novel. To us, it was the last decade+ and we were ready to move on, forgetting how much we loved GBV and all those shows and all the theatrics we now detested. So, GBV’s popularity that day was mostly relative to them performing in front of a crowd not blessed to see them all that often[7].
Anyway, a good reason to keep beer distribution regional and small is the joy we get when we have a beer out of market, like the Hot Knives boys and their box of Founders. Some of the enjoyment we have – whether it’s beer or music – is relative to where we are, what’s normally available there, and with whom we’re sharing the experience.
I’m glad someone in LA got to try some Founders. They now know what the midwest has to offer that west coast IPA’s cannot always fulfill. I’m also glad that this video reminded me of what a nice craft beer option we have here in Middle Missouri with Founders in almost every grocery, restaurant, and bar.
Notes:
1 It was a nice haul, but there are a few key bottles missing: Cherise, Pale Ale, Dirty Bastard, Red’s Rye PA, Porter, All Day IPA, Curmudgeon, Harvest Ale, and Backwoods Bastard. Plus, there are the super rare bottles like CBS, Better Half, and Blushing Monk.
2 With my limited palate, I am finding that I prefer the West Coast IPA to those of the east. A “balanced” IPA seems to be code for “tons of sweetness to balance out all the hops.” I’m growing a bit weary over Eastern and Midwestern DIPA’s. The IPA’s are fine. It just seems there’s way too much sweetness going on.
3 Of course, this has only been the case for a few years. Founders was one of the first big craft brewers to plunge into Missouri’s waters. Since then, it’s been an avalanche of new beer.
4 The Devil Dancer just didn’t do it for me this year. I blame the ridiculous amount of hops needed for a triple IPA (whatever that is). If the crop this year was even a tiny bit off, it affected the whole beer. Also, I really don’t care for fresh KBS. That beer needs a year to age before it’s good.
5 I once saw them play a tent in Dayton on a snowy St. Pat’s Day. My brother got us kicked out.
6 Guided By Voices gigs and things like cow tipping are probably the only two things that Ohio can say they get more opportunities to do than New Yorkers.
7 See #6. Why do I even have this footnote?
Another note…The use of “hipsters” as a descriptor was not meant as an insult. Hipsters tend to be creative and fashionable types. What’s not to like about that?
Revisiting Sentimentality
Is it redundant to keep coming back to sentimentality?
The above video works because it taps into the sentimentality of the photo series by artist Irina Werning better known as “Back to the Future.” Feist has always had a warm, inviting voice and her songs are comforting remembrances to which we all can relate. The combination of the song and the images should make you smile as you remember your own childhood pictures, stashed away in some cardboard box.
This idea of sentimentality is an important one, contributing to the success of indie-craft markets. Connecting to these feelings and memories are what give a glass of beer or record a soul. This is something corporate entities try to manufacture in an effort to separate you from your money, but the personal approach of indie-craft producers makes such an approach more authentic.
I keep going back to it, but the Deschutes promo from earlier this year has a similar effect on me. Sure, it’s advertising and marketing at its finest. However, there’s something about these small businesses tapping into our collective experiences that sets them apart from their corporate overlords.
Does the Feist video speak to you? Is sentimentality important to you when choosing music, beer, etc?
Hiatus from the Hiatus and other things
Not too long ago[1], my wife noticed that I know a lot of young women. She’s right. I probably know more ~college-aged women at this moment in time than I did when I was in college. When she made the observation, several of these friends and acquaintances had stopped to say hello while we were out on the town. I had been telling of other encounters in clubs and online with these women. So, she noticed a pattern in my social circle.
I’m not bragging. It’s just that when one partakes in oodles of social media socializing and goes out fairly regularly for beer and live music, it’s easy to know a lot of young[2] people (male and female). Also, there’s probably something non-threatening for these women about the married guy with a kid, talking music and such while not hitting on them. Trust me. I’m not bragging.
This is not about titillation or some adulterous contemplation. My partner is not jealous, nor should she be. This town is small enough that there may be whispers. I know I’ve heard them about other married guys my age or older who I see out and about, but that’s not me and that’s not why I’m writing this.
There are things that separate me from the young. These things might even be what make me such a nonthreatening novelty around town, but these characteristics clearly keep me from being seen as a potential suitor at best or stalker at worst[3]. Of course, these things are what I write about almost exclusively on this blog: craft beer and indie rock[4].
At times, there are things I do or preferences I have that can cause me to be perceived as cooler or unreachable than I actually am. For example, a few weekends ago, I participated in a casual tasting of beers that featured an extraordinary number of rare and insanely big beers. You can see for yourself on my Untappd feed for March 25th[5]. On a musical note, I just received the new Lee Ranaldo solo record[6], of Sonic Youth fame. What these two facts might tell people – particularly young, hip women – is that I’m on a higher plain with my consumption of beer and music.
However, this couldn’t be further from the truth. That Sunday afternoon of beer revelry nearly did me in. I didn’t wake with a hangover, mostly because I fell asleep before dinner. The fact that I’m so into Sonic Youth that I even buy their solo records is really pathetic in that the one time I had an opportunity to speak with Lee Ranaldo, I chickened out like a typical fan-boy. The point is that I’m not nearly as cool as the things in which I consume.
Conversely, I’m probably not as boring and dad-like as a few of my other choices would suggest. Alongside the Lee Ranaldo record, I’ve been listening to new records by The Shins[7] and White Rabbits[8]. One (The Shins) smells of dad-rock[9]. The other shows an aging hipster grasping at newer indie bands that aren’t all that new nor indie. Of course, I like variety and have followed these bands before they were ignored by the likes Pitchfork and Hipster Runnoff. These records making it to my regular rotation have less to do with me being an out-of-touch dad than they have to do with habits, loyalty, and a general interest in how music develops over time.
I also have some mainstream tastes in beer. There was a recent crawfish boil in our neighborhood. These gatherings are often an opportunity to pull out some nice beers to share. However, I opted to be one of the group[10], bringing a selection of a variety of APA’s, amber ales, and other less-extreme brews. It didn’t show me softening since that epic tasting the weekend prior, but it showed that I can have craft beer that fits any situation. Craft beer is for the people, not just the beer geek set.
I don’t know what I’m really trying to say here. It’s just an attempt to bust my slump and work out of this hiatus. I realize that the post comes off as conceited, but that’s not how I meant it. My point is that I am perceived a certain way that is both attractive and somewhat banal. The pressures of living up to perceptions that I’m something more than I am can crush my creativity at times. Additionally, the normality of drinking beer and listening to rock and roll isn’t always that inspiring, hence the hiatus.
Sorry for coming out of the hiatus with such a rambly mess. It can only go up from here. In the meantime, enjoy the return of footnotes. Look for some regular series[11] of posts and hopefully less rambly ramblings.
Notes:
1 Yes, it seems the hiatus is over. There’s not much of a focus just yet, but I have ideas. I’m cutting back on beer and music expenses. so, this should be interesting. Stay tuned. And, yes, the footnotes are back for the time being. Also, as long as it has taken me to write this post, it has actually been a long time ago, but I digress.
2 Of course, “young” is relative. I’m 37 and anyone under 20 is young to me. Anyone under 25 is a kid.
3 I do worry more about being perceived as a creepy old guy more than a target of affection. The potential whispers about my fidelity do not bother me, but being seen as a stalker does. Hopefully, that’s not how anyone perceives me.
4 Yes, young women (and men) enjoy craft beer and indie rock. However, the craft beer of which I speak is often beyond the average income of a college student. So, PBR or their ilk are often the preferred option. Also, the kids don’t really call it “indie rock.” I’m not sure anyone really does anymore. Additionally, the particular brand of indie I discuss is more closely related to my college days than theirs. Go, back and quit reading the footnotes for more on this.
5 Again, not bragging. I just happen to know some incredibly generous beer enthusiasts in my own age group.
6 It’s poppier than I would have ever guessed. Plus, it sounds as if Ranaldo is trying to drop his deadpan, spoken-word-style vocals for singing. It actually sounds like he’s trying to sing. It’s a bit of a mixed bag overall, especially when he slips in some slide guitar here and there. It’s a fine record, I guess.
7 This record has been growing on me. It’s bigger and showier than past efforts. One can hear the difference professional musicians make. I suspect The Shins will improve as James Mercer figures out how to write songs for/with this new crew of Shins.
8 White Rabbits hail from right here in Middle Missouri, but they apparently didn’t learn to play instruments until they hit Brooklyn. They’ve moved from sounding like The Walkmen to Spoon, now they sound like themselves, perhaps. It’s a talented group, but I’m not sure I’m digging the bigger vibes at the moment. It might grow on me, but I have doubts.
9 Dad rock is basically anything that might have appealed to dads during their college days only it’s friendlier. See: Wilco.
10 Often, I show up to neighborhood parties and get-togethers with fancy beers that only I drink. So, rather than getting drunk in the afternoon sun, I opted for some safer selections that I could have left behind had the day gone too long.
11 For me, describing them as series means that I won’t have to post them on any kind of schedule. I’ve tried schedules and they just don’t work for me. The following are what I’m considering. You can decide what they mean: Indie-Craft Interviews, Stupid S*** I Wrote, BICTB&P Hall of Fame, Key Party, I Can’t Sing It Strong Enough…
Playing Favorites
Do you play favorites?
Martyn Cornell, AKA The Zythophile, did this bit praising brown beer. While most in the comments and among the beery blogosphere have chosen to focus on Martyn’s ode to brown bitter, I walked away (virtually) with a different message. Martyn’s post is about how we can’t really claim to like beer if we have favorite beer styles.
What spoke to me was a comparison to music (in a beer blog – I’m partial). One can’t claim to love music if all he likes is one particular genre or artist. We’re limited by favorites and we fail to listen or search out new music if we continually turn back to the same old same old. Granted, I proclaim Pavement as my favorite band of all-time, but I’m not limited by this declaration.
Martyn goes on to demonstrate how he doesn’t have a favorite music or beer, but there are things he could handle over an extended period with one kind of music or beer. He names quite a wide range of music he likes. However, the post is about his love for English bitter, a style that would suit him for a time if that’s all he could drink.
I get this.
Some of you may not be aware that I taught fourth and fifth grades for ten years. When one teaches facilitates the learning of 9-11 year-olds, it’s easy to pick out favorites. There’s the really bright-but-shy kid who always saves the day with her insights. I always had a soft spot in my heart for the kid who had everything going against him, but he showed up at school everyday, ready to learn. I could go on and on, but the point is that playing favorites limits us. If I had spent all my time and efforts on those few favorites, I wouldn’t have discovered the gifts of my other students. More importantly, I would have done a disservice to those who were not my favorites.
You don’t like beer if you only order one style at the bar. Think of all those other breweries and styles on which you’re missing. I honestly drink a lot of IPA’s and DIPA’s. However, I don’t know that I would truly appreciate these beers had I not begun to branch out into sweeter or more sour territory. In fact, I often have nothing hoppy on-hand since discovering many other styles of beer. (Plus, these beers are best enjoyed fresh. So, they don’t stay around long.) It’s better to not play favorites in this instance as sticking to one beer or style gives one nothing with which to compare.
The same can be said for music. Listening to the same albums and bands over and over only means that you’re not listening to something else, possibly something new. It’s easy to fall into ruts, wondering whether or not you have the energy to pursue new music. We should branch out now and again with our listening habits. Even when I lump all of the music I favor into the category “indie rock”, I fully recognize that there’s an incredible amount of variety, so much variety that it’s silly to name it all using the same ambiguous label. I can say that I love music because I truly love many kinds of music.
Now, all of this love for variety does not necessarily mean that we don’t linger with a few favorites gems. I still listen to at least one Pavement album a week. Last night, I ordered a double IPA from Six Row followed by a Green Flash Barley Wine at dinner. Insound is sending me an LP by Lee Renaldo and The Shins shortly after. My last beer I brewed was a repeated fav, Big Black. Old habits die hard. Creature comforts are…well…comfortable.
Yes, we’ll say that we have favorites, but by definition, we would consume little or nothing else. That definition?* Preferred before all others of the same kind. So, for my purposes here, I’m looking at how this manifests to the extreme.
If IPA’s and Pavement were my favorites, I wouldn’t be listening to Beach House as I type this, wondering when is the right time to pop open that Lou Pepe. Maybe there should be a better term for what Martyn describes and I’m ripping off, but, for now, let’s not play favorites.
*This is for Bill. Although, I doubt it will satisfy him. I just hope it clarifies from where I’m coming.
Update: Please read the comment thread, particularly Bill’s comments. My intention was not to make music and beer exclusionary, but that’s the message I sent. I’ll leave the post up as is, but you should read the entire discussion.
On Sentimentality
Music and images elicit a certain amount of sentimentality in its audience. In fact, producers of such art depend on that sentimentality to sell their art. It’s not a deceptive practice. Musicians have to sell records to make a living and continue doing what they love.
There’s also a more authentic aspect for manufacturing some sentimentality. Artists want to make a connection through common sentiments. If I reflect on my childhood or my child’s in a song or video and it connects with you, we create a community of sorts through this kinship. Yes, there’s profit to be made, but the human connections solidified are what’s really valuable.
Some roll their eyes at sentimentality, especially when something’s for sale. Take that Deschutes video I shared a while back…
Some beer enthusiasts were upset. They felt duped. Someone was accessing their sentimentality to sell some beer. They don’t like that and feel craft beer should be above such nonsense. However, it’s naive to think this way. Man, everything’s for sale, including your sentimentality. If you’re aware of it, who cares? Why not enjoy the moment?
I get a certain bit of sentimentality from beer and music. I’m okay with it being used to sell me more beer and records because I’m aware of what’s going on. I can separate something that makes me feel sentimental from what you’re selling. However, if I too feel sentimental about your product, I’m more than willing to shed reason to satisfy that need for sentiment.
Take the video at the top of this post for example. I have all kinds of feelings for this one piece. First, the song is by Eric Bachman of Archers of Loaf fame and now Crooked Fingers. Archers of Loaf captured the angst and blue-collar anger of my youth, feelings that still resonate with me. Crooked Fingers came around at some interesting transitions in my life. Darker sides of my mindset heard Bachman’s drunken laments and it connected. Ever since, the more mature material Bachman has released speaks to me as I grow older and accumulate adult responsibilities. His last album was completely overlooked by me and possibly should have made my final ten of 2011. For this, I feel a little guilty.
The video and song together really connects to sentimentality of my current state. Watching a young girl grow, discover her family history, and suddenly realize she’s grown really makes me think about my own daughter. Additionally, friends have recently asked me what fatherhood is like. for three years for her life, I’ve almost never had to answer this question. However, it’s come up a lot lately. I’ve surprised myself with how much I’ve had to say about it.
This leads to a moment I had today. My mom called me this morning to tell me that my grandfather died earlier in the day, the day between my wife’s birthday (yesterday) and mine (tomorrow). She told me how she was able to see him before he passed. He wanted to talk, but the oxygen mask he was wearing wouldn’t permit his words to heard. She said by the time my aunt arrived later in the evening, he was virtually in a coma.
I thought about that moment, the moment my grandfather’s daughters had to see him in the most vulnerable of states. I thought about the last moments he had to look into his daughter’s eyes. I imagined the moment I will have to do the same.
This caused me to shutter a bit, but it resonated. Yep. I got all of that from one little music video.
I write about my interests because I feel connections to people through these things. I remember sharing a Goose Island Christmas ale with my grandfather the last time we celebrated the holiday together. My sister played some Bettie Serveert on Facebook today to help her cope with the sadness. I’ve listened to nothing but Bettie Serveert all day, remembering the summer I spent in Seattle when I caught them live.
Beer and music are there throughout our lives when the good and bad happen. Sure, there are other things, but these are the things to which I connect. So, I feel as though we should insure that these moments are connected to the best in both. I want the most meaningful music and the highest quality beer to connect to the times I share with loved ones.
Does this make me more susceptible to advertisers playing the sentimentality card? Sure, but why not enjoy feeling that connection now and and again? Honestly, I’d rather play a record for sentimental reasons than because Pitchfork told me to. I’d rather remember the time I had a heart-to-heart with a friend over a good craft beer than fully sober and without a taste in my mouth that will take me back to that one moment in time…
Now ‘m rambling a bit. Appeal to my sentimentality. I’m cool with it. I like feeling and remembering, things humans do.
By Definition
Folks are really hung up on definitions. Some definitions seem vague and disconnected. Others change depending on the context. Still, certain definitions are there just to create controversy. Whatever the definition, whether it be beer or music, they make for excellent fodder for a blogger in need of a topic to post.
The “session beer” is a highly controversial term. Beer Advocate has their somewhat Americanized version of what most Brits consider to be session beer. Then, there’s the session beer gospel as preached by Lew Bryson at his Session Beer Project. I’m not going to go into the definition of the session beer except to say that whatever you’re drinking over an extended period of time that doesn’t completely drop you beneath the table is close enough to a session beer for me. I’ll let others debate ABV criteria as I rarely choose a beer solely on alcohol level. (Although, I have avoided certain beers that would have rendered me unable to drive home.)
There’s been some talk and disagreement over the origins and definitions of the West Coast IPA. Jeff at Beervana attempted to solicit the help from his readers in order to align his own definition with the masses. This sort of topic borders on debates over terroir and a vain attempt to identify one’s region with a beer style. It’s really no different with the controversy over Cascadian Dark Ales and/or Black IPA’s. Brewers/marketers are trying to tie a beer’s definition with their particular region. Sure, styles originate from and often taste different when brewed in different locales. However, the makeup of the beers are generally similar. I enjoy how an IPA from Michigan tastes as much as I enjoy how one from San Diego tastes. Locale is a factor, but I won’t define a beer style solely based on region. It feels limiting and lazy.
Lately, a couple of definitions have come under fire. It seems there is a crisis over what constitutes craft beer in the UK. I’m not familiar with Simon Johnson’s Reluctant Scooper, but in his post titled “The Craft Beer Manifesto“, he takes a jab at what defines craft beer (in the UK, at least):
1: Only use distilled otter’s tears
2: Use only barley that’s been warmed by the breath of kindly owls
3: Craft beer cares, so only use hops that have been flown halfway around the world
4: You can have it any colour you like, as long as it’s not brown. Unless its an Indian Brown Ale
5: Beards allowed only if they’re ironic
6: It’s not “inconsistent”, it’s “experimental”
7: It’s not “hiding faults”, it’s “barrel-ageing”
…
I found his list (all twelve) to be pretty funny. However, scrolling through the comments alerted me to some curmudgeon-like attitudes toward beer. I don’t know how everyone defines craft beer, but it seems to me that it’s beer brewed using traditional methods on a relatively small scale. The definition that Johnson hints at – with tongue firmly planted in cheek – is what has been marketed to us in one way or another. Some has been by design as breweries fight for their own unique place in the industry. Some is a creation of the craft beer geek culture where bigger, extreme-er beer is appreciated most. I think it’s a simple thing really, determined by brewing methods and production. Still, the manifesto is a funny list to discuss at the bar. (H/T Stan)
Another blog post has pondered the definition of a brewer. Zak Avery ponders the question perfectly and the proof lies in the responses he generates from his readers. The definitions are all over the place as each commenter has his/her own perspective on what constitutes a brewer. Simply, I’d suggest that a brewer is anyone who brews beer. There are good and bad brewers, ignorant and knowledgeable brewers. If we want to get technical, we could divide brewers between home and commercial, but sometimes there isn’t much difference in this dichotomy. The debate could go on, but that’s why it’s such a great question or rumination. (also H/T Stan)
Commenter Bill Farr asked me to define indie rock. Has anyone really tried to do this? Actually, some have. AllMusic of course has something to say:
Indie rock takes its name from “independent,” which describes both the do-it-yourself attitudes of its bands and the small, lower-budget nature of the labels that release the music. The biggest indie labels might strike distribution deals with major corporate labels, but their decision-making processes remain autonomous.
On the surface, that seems easy enough. However, when bands sign with major labels, whether or not they really do make “autonomous” decisions is up for debate. Too often, the idea of indie rock has been assigned to a certain aesthetic. Honestly, I am guilty of limiting this segment of music to the music I like: guitar-centric, rock music preferred by white males who attended college in the mid-90’s. I realize that I’m ignoring a huge amount of music when I proclaim indie rock as my favorite genre of music. Really, what I should do is say that I appreciate indie rock, but I prefer bands like Pavement, Guided By Voice, Sonic Youth, The Walkmen, etc. Luckily, it’s not up to me to define indie rock for you. We have AllMusic and Wikipedia for such trivialities.
Where definitions get interesting in indie rock is where we actually start to define genres and sub-genres. Lo-fi was made popular as an aesthetic where bands recorded in bedrooms on cheap four/eight-track recorders. Riot grrrl defined a generation of punks hellbent on injecting the DIY, punk scene with some estrogen. Baroque pop was the only monicker someone at Spin or Rolling Stone could muster in order to explain what Arcade Fire or Beirut were doing. I could go on and on with genres and subgenres made popular in indie rock circles. The topic of these genres is enough to write a book on its own.
So, what am I getting at?
It seems a great deal of time is spent on blogs and books and whatever media one prefers trying to define everything. The only problem I have with this is that so many of us (myself included) spend a lot of time trying to define it for others. No longer do we listen to (or read) each other and try to meet at an understanding. I’m as guilty of this as anyone. A certain amount of anonymity and/or distance provided by the interwebs does that. I’m trying to get better at this and simply state that what I post here is just my perspective. Sometimes that’s clear. Sometimes it’s not.
I prefer to see these definitions as evolving tools to better understand one another. If you and I have different ideas as to what a session beer is, it might make for a more enjoyable session if we know from where each person is coming. Let’s say that I am a Lew Bryson disciple and will only drink session beers measuring in at 4.5% or less and you’re the type that can’t taste anything below 9% ABV. It would be helpful to know that I can throw back several pints over the course of evening while you may want to limit yourself to sipping one or two beers over the same time period. Without this understanding, one of us comes off looking like a drunk: you for drinking high gravity beers at the same pace as I or me for throwing back five pints in one sitting.
When I talk music with people, the definition discussion is much easier. No one is stuck to one definition for a band or an album. We prefer to delve into what the music is doing for us and what influences it resembles. Conversely, the beer nerd conversation is dependent on the definition of a beer or its style. Thankfully, this grip on definitions is loosening as some in my beer circle would rather talk about tangibles of the moment or how the beer tastes in that particular context. To me, these discussions over definitions are so much more useful and productive rather than one party insisting on whatever is etched in stone while another pontificates that all formal definitions are obsolete.
Thankfully, Martyn Cornell provided some reason to the conversation and yet another term to help describe what we beer enthusiasts like. He used the post to promote the idea of “fine beer”, you know, like “fine wine” or “fine dining”. I’m all for it, but I won’t use this space to go into that. His main point is the same point I’m trying to make. Basically, the labels we use to describe what we like (craft beer, indie rock) are just the words that make it simpler to tell outsiders or newcomers what we like. It’s a way to organize store shelves and record bins. It doesn’t adequately describe all the reasons we like what we like. It’s shorthand. It’s easy, almost lazy. (Martyn didn’t say this exactly. I’m sort of paraphrasing.) So, the energy spent defining lazy terminology is energy wasted.
I will continue to use the terms “craft beer” and “indie rock” to describe my tastes in drink and music. I will probably also try to define these interests with each blog post. However, I am not trying to define these specific terms for you. What I am attempting to do is to define what I like and why. I am trying to make the case – like many have done before me – as to why this is important. I am not attempting to define beer and music for you. I am just trying to engage the conversation, the thing that goes neglected when we have to define everything.
The Publishing Bug
I’ve come to the realize that all I’ve ever wanted to do was write. There’s some regret that I didn’t use my college years to develop my writing more than I did. Instead, I decided teaching children was a better use of my skills. Boy, was I wrong.
Blogging has only been a hobby of mine for the past five years. Aside from a few posts picked up by the local paper, I’ve generally only seen my words in digital ink and not the soy variety. However, this is the closest I’ve come to both developing my writing and actually publishing what I wrote.
That’s about to change. As some of my regular readers are aware, I’ve often contemplated turning what I do here into a book of some sort. Obviously, these posts are a long, long way from being published, but the growth I’ve seen in my writing has me thinking that I could do this with some polish here and there. Plus, I am never short on ideas. Yeah, I go weeks with barely anything to say, but I’ve maintained several blogs at once over the years, sometimes able to post on a daily basis. Although I lack polish, I more than make up for it with ideas. I’m like the Bob Pollard of blogging. Sort of.
Although, I have been talking about writing for a while, I really got serious a couple of weeks ago while having beers with a friend. He’s “dabbled” in publishing and suggested that I should just start contributing articles or reviews to magazines. I don’t know whether he was a little drunk, actually enjoys what I have to say, or was seducing me, it made me realize how easy it would be to submit writing to a publication. Actually getting published might be another story, but the idea was to put something out there, to at least try.
So, I started considering publications to approach. I know a guy who wrote every-other record review for the year-end issue of Magnet. (Yes, they’re publishing Magnet again.) He’s an excellent writer, but he seems to appreciate some of my ideas now and again. It make me feel as if I could do what he does, or at least a fraction of it. It may be time to write a record review for submission beyond this blog.
Then, I flipped through to the last page of the March issue of All About Beer. The magazine closes with a feature called “It’s My Round” where people briefly tell their beer-related stories. This particular piece was written by a daddy blogger about his first sips of beer and how he wants to wait to share beer with his son. I could have written those words, but I didn’t. Then, I saw a note at the bottom explaining how to inquire about submissions. That was the opening I needed. I’ll write about beer and Pavement in a beer magazine. It might not get printed, but at least I’ll be able to say I tried.
Finally, the other night, semi-frequent commenter Holly sent me a link to a call for submissions. The venerable 33 1/3 series which features short book on some seminal albums is asking for submissions for new projects. The books are simply memoirs about some of the greatest albums of the last 30 or so years. Some editions just tell the story of the recording of said albums. Others tell a band’s story, focusing mostly on one moment in their history. Still, others tell the story of the listener’s relationship to the album. Whatever, I decide to do, this is a project I must try!
I had to drive for 90 minutes after learning of the call. So, I had time to think. My mind raced from album to album, trying to pinpoint the album most deserving of a 33 1/3 edition. I then had to consider my angle as the call implied that unique stories would receive preferential treatment. Maybe I could write about an album in relation to the rise of craft beer. Maybe there’s an angle I could consider that I’ve already explored on this site. Maybe I have a perspective no one else has…
So, I came up with a list of possible proposals for the series, but the publishers will only accept one. Feel free to submit your own, but all I ask is that you don’t steal any of my worthy ideas (if there are any). Tell me which I should pursue in the comments. I have an idea which one will stand the best chance of being accepted and actually completed, but I want to see what you all think. I also welcome any ideas you may have for me that I’m completely missing.
Terror Twilight – Pavement
This isn’t even my favorite Pavement record, but I feel there’s a story that hasn’t been told. For those who aren’t aware, this was Pavement’s last record. Between my experiences throughout the nineties with the band, my attendance at their final North American show (the first time around), my attendance at two of their reunion shows in 2010, and the stories swirling around their inevitable breakup during the recording of Terror Twilight, I think there is easily an entire book to write.
The Body, the Blood, the Machine – The Thermals
This album carried me through a tough time in my life and is just so ridiculously good. I thought that I might connect it to the rise of craft beer in Portland (or the rise of Portlandia in general). Plus, I have established a rapport with head Thermal Hutch Harris. Still, it might be a stretch to make the connections I’m trying to do here. That, and I’ve never been to Portland. I also considered albums by Cursive and Spoon during their brief sojourns to Portland or the transplanted albums by The Shins or Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks.
Number Seven Uptown – Swearing at Motorists
I always felt that this album just sounded like growing up in Ohio. Dave Dougman has an interesting story cutting his teeth in Dayton, before heading to Philly and eventually Berlin. He also seems really approachable. However, I don’t know that this album is known well enough for it to garner its own spot in the series. It’s certainly seminal to my experiences, but that might not be enough for 33 1/3. Other possibilities could include a Guided By Voices album not yet featured (Alien Lanes?), The Amps’ record, or Brainiac’s Hissing Prigs in Static Couture.
Other records I would consider but would probably just research the band, possibly leaving out my own experiences…
Perfect from Now On by Built to Spill
The Lonesome Crowded West by Modest Mouse
Come On Feel the Illinoise by Sufjan Stevens
Any album by Archers of Loaf
Funeral by Arcade Fire (Seriously, no one has written this book yet.)
Please come correct with your suggestions or your take on what I’ve cooked up here. Particularly, I’d love to hear the perspective of my beer enthusiast readers who know of a beer/music connection I must explore.
The Most Oregon Thing Ever
I’ve never been to Oregon, but I feel as though I have. There was the time I spent a summer in the Puget Sound right after college. The scenery in that region wasn’t far off from what I know about Oregon. My record and beer collections are loaded with representatives from Oregon. I even own the first season of Portlandia. I’ve never been, but I think I know Oregon a little.
The following video popped up on Stan’s blog[1] Monday that may very well be the most Oregon thing I’ve ever seen…
First and foremost, it’s a great piece of film-making. It’s a simple road trip story featuring a young couple. There’s plenty of story there even without any dialogue. The boy tries to entice the girl into his van with his banjo. She’s pissed at him for some reason but eventually relents. Obviously, she’s cool with it. She’s just not quite sure where it’s all going.
Eventually, inspiration hits and the couple maps out a trip that will allow them to see all the landmarks featured on Deschutes labels. What results is a trip where they learn more than the value of craft beer. No, the beer epiphany isn’t the only discovery for the couple.
The story is sweet even with the not-so-subtle inclusion of the Deschutes labels and corresponding landmarks. Craft beer is bigger than beer or the beer industry. There are the aforementioned epiphanies, but more importantly there is craft beer’s relationship to life and living. The time and expertise that went into brewing the beers the couple drink in the short are greater than the effects of throwing back a few cold ones. This is something handmade yet magical that becomes a part of their story.
Anything artisanal has this advantage over anything corporate or industrial. Where the makers of industrial, rice-adjunct lagers have done all they can to strip personality from their products, breweries like Deschutes have multiplied and exploited it in order to keep that human element in beer alive. Beer is a living, breathing thing that enriches our lives with pleasure in the form of aroma, flavor, mouthfeel…and a little booze doesn’t hurt either. The personality and humanity in every bottle is a part of those moments and experiences that shape. Why fill that time with watery domestics?
The film says all this to me. Of course, I’m a bit more attuned to such things as these are my obsessions, but filmmaker Chris Hornbecker has a knack for finding the magical in images of humanity. This sweet love story/beer ad isn’t the only example of his craft. Check the Wolf Parade (RIP) video for “Yulia” as evidence that he is not a one-hit wonder. From what I’ve found using my expert Google search skills, he’s a photographer whose eye is incredibly adept at capture just those perfect moments you’ll never see in a Budweiser commercial.
The music didn’t escape me either. I knew the band, but I didn’t know the band. Turns out that it’s a song, “Beach House”, by a Seattle band called The Cave Singers. Born out of the ashes of the now-defunct-yet-beautifully-named Pretty Girls Make Graves, The Cave Singers combine authenticity with expert storytelling to make “Landmarks” a truly compelling and universal story. You know, that moment in a young relationship when neither person is sure what’s happening or where it’s all going… Then, there’s that moment when one or both take a chance. Discoveries are made and love flourishes.
The music beautifully captures the sense of discover Hornbecker is trying to convey. That kind of discovery is rarely associated with keggers of industrial lagers. It’s never at the bottom of that can of Natty Light. This kind of humanity and relationship fits better with something that takes as much care as the artists who wrote, directed, shot, and performed such a lovely piece.
I don’t know that Deschutes’ arrival in my state two weeks ago could cause this same sort of discovery. Aside from the things I experience raising my daughter, a lot of discovery is starting to escape my grasp. That’s where the soulfulness of things like craft beer and indie rock enrich my life a bit.
Deschutes’ beers are full of soul. I could be a sucker for marketing, but every beer of theirs I’ve had has not disappointed. The ephemeral quality of a Deschutes beer, whether that be the roastiness of Black Butte or the crisp, floral aromas of Hop Henge, they always deliver a sense you’re tasting something memorable, something real.
The cynics among you will point out that I’m going over the top with this Deschutes video thing, but I’d argue that you’re not allowing yourself to enjoy these moments. I’m talking about the moment a song hits you in a way that you just want to play it over and over. Or that time a truly great craft beer fist reached your palate. What about that moment you smiled uncontrollably at the moment a film took you back to a time when you truly fell in love?
Maybe this describes Oregon. It more than likely does not. Still, it’s nice to think that there’s an Oregon like this out there. Thanks Deschutes for making some pretty great beer and thanks for commissioning this short film. You made my week.
Notes:
1I love Stan’s blog and he’s one of the most thoughtful and generous beer bloggers there is. However, I can’t help but be a little disappointed at the comments celebrating the fraction of a second the female character’s breasts are exposed. It was a lovely moment that was completely lost by a couple of his commenters. That’s fine if they got their rocks off on a little nudity, but I suspect they’d miss the importance of that same moment if it happened right in front of them. This kind of shit makes me loath the boy-dominated beer scene and worry for my daughter… Then, I have a beer and I don’t care anymore. It won’t ruin my enjoyment of this nice piece of art.
Session #59 – I Almost Always Drink Beer, But When I Don’t, I Drink Żubrówka
This month’s session almost threw me for a loop. Here’s the premise from session curator Mario Rubio of Brewed for Thought:
With the New Year looming and a month of Christmas and Holiday parties to enjoy there are plenty of opportunities to get into a different beverage besides beer, alcoholic or otherwise. It was with this in mind that I was reminded of a conversation I had one day with Jay Brooks. Looking for advice on how to squeeze some blood from this stone of beer blogging, Jay told me a lot of writers have to look outside of beer to help make a complete income. Upon bringing this up as a Session topic he even offered up a much better title than I would have thought up.
So as we are all incredibly interesting people, and almost always drink beer, let’s talk about what we drink when not drinking beer. Maybe your passion for coffee rivals that of craft beer, or it could be another alcoholic beverage such as scotch. My daughter being a root beer fan would appreciate her dad reviewing a few fizzy sodas. Maybe you have a drink that takes the edge off the beer, be it hair of the dog or a palate cleanser during the evening.
Beer cocktails, wines, ciders, meads, you name it as long as it’s not beer. Try to tie it in with craft beer in some way for extra credit. Be creative and I’ll see you guys in the new year.
Why would this throw me for a loop? Well, aside from my morning (and sometimes afternoon) coffee and water, I’ve cut out just about all other drinks. I feel that I can have a beer that will satisfy me better than any cocktail or glass of wine could ever do. So, why would I want to wast my liver and bladder on another drink?
Then, I considered the past holiday season. Every Christmas Eve, we have a Polish dinner. It’s tradition to toast each course with a shot of Polish vodka. We’ve always preferred Żubrówka or Bison Grass Vodka. However, the Eastern European market here in town was out. To add insult to injury, all the liquor stores in town don’t carry it. Our dinner guest supplied a nice Polish vodka, but it was absent the bison grass and just didn’t taste the same.
What exactly is Żubrówka and why is it so good?
Well, the Żubrówka one buys here in the States is different than what can be had in Poland. The original contains a blade of grass that grows from bison pastures. We’re all adults with a decent amount of education. So, I’ll let you figure out the connection from there. Anyway, said grass contains a carcinogen, making it extra “effective”. The US government looks down upon such ingredients. The American version shares the same green tint, herbal flavor, and even a blade of grass. However, there are no carcinogens. Still, my wife who’s had the Polish version, says it’s pretty close to the original. This means that a certain amount of herbal goodness, akin to an apple pie, exists in this green-tinted treat.
The spirit is an integral part of our family’s history. My wife’s family has a Polish background and she spent some time in Poland while her brother served in the Peace Corps there. Żubrówka was plentiful. Even the children were served their share, mixed with apple juice for a drink called a “szarlotka”. When we were married, we concluded the ceremony (and started the party) with a shot of Żubrówka for all. It’s tradition for our liquor cabinet to be stocked with the grassy booze, but our supply ran out and was left empty somehow.
After the Christmas Eve without our favorite accoutrement, we were determined to not let another holiday pass us by without some Bison Grass Vodka. Thankfully, Wine & Cheese Place in St. Louis (or in Clayton to be more specific) exists. I normally go there for beer, but this was a vodka emergency and a bottle of the green stuff was to be secured. W&C pulled through and we had vodka shots for New Year’s Eve!
Of course, I also consumed some Mikkeller Nelson Sauvin Brut (an awesome “New Year beer…fermented with ale yeast, brettanomyces and enzymes…aged three months in Austrian white wine casks”), Life & Limb 2 (Dogfish Head/Sierra Nevada-collaborated imperial stout with distinctive notes of chocolate and maple syrup), and Schalfly Reserve Barley Wine-style Ale (a 2008 vintage where the only thing I could taste was oak and no malt after 3+ years in the bottle). So, I didn’t drink just vodka harvested from the grass of buffalo dung, but the vodka certainly helped to ring in the new year the right way even if leaving me a bit hungover.
Cheers to Mario for forcing me out of my comfort zone and to reflect on and appreciate what is a rather enjoyable spirit, Żubrówka.
Beer and Pavement 
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