Weird Beard with The Heads

SINGLE HOP SERIES No.1 – CHINOOK by WEIRD BEARD

paired with

EVERYBODY KNOWS WE GOT NOWHERE by THE HEADS

It’s Record Store Day so what else could I do but pair a beer with a musical purchase from this year’s (sort of) exclusive releases…

The Phantom of the Off-Licence

Weird Beard’s Chinook pours a sexy deep mahogany – the exact colour that we all dream Audrey Hepburn’s hair was –  and it’s topped with an off-white head that instantly recalls Ernest Hemingway’s beard when he was at the highest peak of genius.

The nose is cherry lips, half an ounce of the finest freshly lit shag, the delicate but intoxicating scent of the person you’ve never met but you know you’d instantly fall in love with if you ever did and, understandably, Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

The taste is like a boring brown beer, which, if you believe the bottle blurb, was Weird Beard’s goal. But it’s a boring brown beer where the word boring has an entirely re-defined meaning. The taste is treacle & liquorice toffee mixed with figs soaked in rum complimented with a squeeze of blood orange and a drop or two of bitters and it’s all been deliciously squashed between a big fat slice of your granny’s home baked brown bread. In short: Weird Beard’s Chinook tastes like a fucking damn good pint in a fucking damn good pub. Delicious.

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Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere

Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere

Excuse the sexual cuss words but there is only one way to truly accurately describe Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere: It’s a heavy motherfucking cunt of a whore… but one that frequently displays an immense amount of depth and subtly and, more importantly, an excellent understanding of the underrated art of song structure. It’s a sublime riot of noise: Screeching psychedelic guitars that sound like they’re trying to commune with a devil or, at the very least, a Robert Johnson who has just discovered the true power of psilocybin; Throbbing bass that is only half an ohm away from splitting the San Andreas Fault;  Pounding drums that must be trying to call forth the 17th apocalypse. It zooms along at super-sonic speed but even in those rare moments when it has to drop a gear so it can successfully negotiate a cosmic canyon bend it never really lets up and it keeps bombarding your heart and mind with guitar riffs that even the most skilled air-guitarist will never be able to truly master. But as you can’t master those air guitar moves you pretend your Loki and bust some moves that would have Freya smiling with eager anticipation. Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere does exactly what every good slab of music should. It makes you move. It makes you move in a cool and sexy way. It makes you move in a cool and sexy way even if you aren’t cool and sexy.  If Valhalla exists this is the music that the Norse lords will be freaking out to every freaking night.

Red Tape

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… all photography by landells except Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere …

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… follow @WeirdBeard_Brew

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~ by landells on April 20, 2013.

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