Drink & Watch: Logan

One of my favorite movies of the last decade was Rambo (actually directed by Sly himself), not because it was a particularly lasting piece of cinema, but rather because Stallone went back to the dark roots of John Rambo as as troubled veteran, not the steroid-induced, cartoon version of an American killing machine that we typically associate him with in parts two and three. If you've never seen the original First Blood, it's a damn good movie and it has little to do with the cold war propaganda that followed it during the Reagan years. In Hugh Jackman's finale as X-Man Wolverine, he's taken the exact same track with Logan, a film by James Mangold that removes any of the comic book wizardry of the previous X-Men films and presents us with a similar template: a stark and depressing look at where guys like Logan (and Rambo) actually end up, rather than the romantic fairy tale we've come to expect.

I have to admit: I'm not a comic book fan, nor do really I enjoy comic book movies. I've watched the entire X-Men series, however, because in high school I would watch the X-Men cartoon with my best friend at the time on Saturday mornings when he slept over. He was a big fan, thus I paid attention and learned the ropes at Professor Xavier's school for the gifted. I didn't rush out out to see Logan up its initial release and I didn't read anything about it. I figured I'd watch it once it hit HBO, which it finally did this month. It's for that reason that I was completely caught off guard last night, sitting on my couch, eating take-out alone, drinking beer and whiskey while my wife was out, watching this bleak and gut-wrenchingly bitter drama unfold before me. If you haven't seen Logan yet, don't read anything more about it. And do NOT bring your kids to see it. It is not for kids. It is not a summer blockbuster with a happy ending. It is one of the most brutally violent, depressing, and F-bomb-laden films of the year. While I enjoyed the hell out of it (for that reason), it was not at all what I expected and I found myself cracking beer after beer just trying to cope with it all. I did not sleep well and I'm still thinking about the repercussions this morning. 

I won't say any more. But know that if you watch Logan you'll need something stronger than beer to get you through it. Despite all that, I can't recommend it highly enough. I might watch it again tonight, to be honest. It's the John Rambo of comic book movies. 

-David Driscoll


Private Consumption

One of the best bottles of whisky I've had this year was a private cask of Port Charlotte that my buddy and long time customer Matt brought to my tasting group party earlier this week. I think at least ten or more folks found themselves reconsidering their Ardnahoe possibilities after tasting McEwan's work here. Matt certainly had no trouble finding a few potential buyers by the time the night was over!

-David Driscoll 


The Baby Boss

While I continue to field questions about the Whistle Pig "Boss Hog" 14 year old limited edition—the $500 bottle of rye that has everyone asking "is it really that good?"—I've found a few alternatives (four of them, actually) for those of you who like to keep your whiskey indulgences under $100. I've got four new single casks of 10 year old Whistle Pig that, in my opinion, are the most exciting single barrels of (North) American whiskey we've locked down this year. Hence, I've saved the best for last. 

Here's how it's going to work. I'm only going to release a new cask once the previous one has sold through, so there will never be multiple barrels available at the same time. Each cask is very, very small. For example, the current barrel pictured above yielded less than 140 total bottles. Perhaps that explains the beautiful concentration of flavor in this 115.8 proof cask strength expression. The nose smells like classic rye, but it's the initial sip that really stands out in this particular whiskey. It's seductively sweet, not in a supple or viscous way, but rather the same way that a graham cracker is sweet. The sugar excites your tastes buds and perks up your palate, but it's really just a side show for the wood, oak spices, and peppery rye character to work their collaborative magic. The mid-palate then gives way to Bourbon-like richness, maple notes, and burnt vanilla before finishing quite dry and spicy. If you've been jonesing for a new bottle of high proof rye, or a Handy/Kentucky Owl substitute, this will definitely do the trick. It's a fantastic bottle of whiskey from front to back, destined to impress any serious fanatic, and we're only on the first cask! 

Whistle Pig 10 Year Old "K&L Exclusive" Single Barrel Cask Strength (115.8 proof) Straight Rye Whiskey $89.99

-David Driscoll


D2D Interview: Rikk Agnew

Photo by Stephanie Pick

While typically the D2D interviews are geared around drinking culture, I’ve met a good number of interesting people over the last few years with insight, experience, and perspective who no longer partake in the consumption of alcohol, yet still have plenty to add to this series. In the case of Rikk Agnew, the former guitarist for the Adolescents and an icon of the early Southern California punk rock scene, sobriety has given him an entirely new lens through which to convey the wisdom of more than three decades in the music business. Rikk has always been a self-motivated, DIY kind of guy. He’s a versatile musician (he was also the original bassist for Social Distortion) and in 1982 he proved it with his first solo release All By Myself, upon which he sang all the songs, played all of the instruments, and took on production duties, later earning him the moniker “the Brian Wilson of punk.” As someone who greatly enjoys comparing and contrasting industry trends and the evolution of pop culture genres, I had been gently nudging Rikk over the last month to sit down for a one-on-one so I could hear his thoughts on the music business and the changes he’s observed over the years. I've written numerous articles over the years about the similarities between alcohol and music. I’ve also spent endless captivating hours listening to Rikk’s albums, his ability to morph seamlessly between various genres of music, weave complicated harmonies into simple sounding melodies, and continue doing so well into his late fifties. I knew he would have something interesting and profound to tell me about a long career in music, and I knew I would find parallels within that conversation to my own life and work. We finally caught up on the phone this past week and our conversation is transcribed below:

David: Let’s talk about the current state of the music industry. 

Rikk: Well, of course, everything’s gone from industrial to information as far as the economic situation of the world and where we are technology wise. A lot of industries have shifted drastically, but especially music. Now you can get music basically anywhere online, but at the same time if you make the right moves…how do I put it? It’s a whole different animal, you’ve just gotta be familiar with it. It’s harder for sure because there’s way more competition out there, so you’ve gotta be trickier. It leans towards that pay-to-play mentality because bands will reach more people if they have money to spend, but that’s the same old song and dance we’ve always had with advertising.

David: How would you contrast what you’re seeing today with the past? How did you make money as a punk musician in 1980, for example?

Rikk: You didn’t (laughs).

David: So when did the switch happen?

Rikk: What’s funny is I’m at a point now where over the last four years I’ve been able to support myself via music; I pay rent, I have a car, equipment, and the whole bit. I mostly have more money now because I’m sober, so I don’t spend money on drugs or alcohol. Back then you got signed by a record company and they were the financier for your projects. They would believe in you and invest in you. The studio time was way more expensive, whereas now you can pretty much do everything from home. Now, as well as back then, you’ve really gotta get out there in person and bust your ass. You’ve gotta go see and play to the people and do it quite often now that there’s more competition. 

David: I had the same conversation yesterday with a brand owner about the amount of time needed on the road to promote a label today. It’s a non-stop venture and as soon as you leave a market the momentum stops. It requires constant attention.

Rikk: You’ve gotta be out there non-stop to get the attention, keep people interested, and of course to get signed. Back then with no internet it was really hard. You had to depend on fanzines and that kind of thing. Nowadays you can post all over the web and saturate the field. It all balances out in different ways. With what it costs now to press records and CDs, you give them out at a gig and people end up throwing them on the ground. Now it’s all about downloads. Before you needed a lot of money to put something out and to advertise it in magazines and newspapers, whereas today you just post it online.

David: Thus, more competition.

Rikk: Yeah, they flood the market. It’s not enough to be really good anymore. You’ve gotta have other ways to get attention.

David: This sounds very familiar.

Rikk: Traveling and touring is still the way to do it, but you’ve gotta be on the road almost constantly to interest the people who have the money to back you. Bands today are more self-sufficient as a result. It’s more DIY, which is what punk first started out wanting to be, so we got our wish—via technology of all things! It’s a trip. 

David: Can you still make money selling music as a commodity, or is it all just touring now?

Rikk: It’s that, but also merchandise. You have to reinvest the band money in putting out product. I kind of prefer it in a way. The hard part is distribution, but you have things like Bandcamp and of course the internet. If you’ve got somewhat of a name you can still do alright. If you read Keith Morris' My Damage or Lemmy's White Line Fever, you will find similar observations from them. I'm sure there are many others. I like having control over what goes on. When I was signed to record companies in the past it could get really horrible and it almost did every time. The label that’s always treated me well is Frontier; that’s why I stick with Lisa Fancher. She’s the real deal. She’s been through everything and she’s a good person to have on your side. She’s a good egg. Same with Robbie Fields who had Posh Boy Records. He helps with publishing and legalities now and he’s another guy I can trust. He’s always been there for me. Joe Escalante from Kung Fu Records is another. I try to learn from them as best I can. Today it’s a matter of being punctual, being smart, taking risks, and living like a pauper. But there’s nothing wrong with barely treading water so as long as the air you’re breathing while you’re treading is sweet. 

David: It sounds like having solid relationships and being happy with what you’re doing is ultimately what’s most important.

Rikk: Right, you don’t need much else. When it was all industry, more of the money went to the industry than the artist. Nowadays an artist can make all of the money, but they have to be on top of things. They have to reinvest. I’m on the computer a lot today, juggling seven or eight bands, and I do the business for almost all of them.

David: So it’s more work?

Rikk: Oh yeah. You can’t be the rock star anymore that has no clue about what’s going on and just says: “give me my check.” It’s not like it was in the late sixties and early seventies when they didn’t even know what publishing was, but they had an endless supply of credit cards and cash. When an industry is in its teenage years, as I call it, there tends to be ton of money and a lot of investment, but later on it all falls apart. The artists and actors find the success of money, but then they get bored and they turn to other things like drugs. Next thing you know, things are crumbling because rock stars start dying. It’s more responsible now. If you want to be successful, you don’t need to have a mansion and a yacht. You’ve just gotta be smart. It’s like the song that Cypress Hill did, “Rock Superstar.” Did you ever hear that? That’s it in a nutshell.

David: Do you feel like you’re more on top of your game now that you have more control over what you’re doing and you understand the business side of today’s industry? Your last album Learn. was incredible. I read some reviews where critics thought it was your best work.

Rikk: I feel like I’ve always been on top of my game in one form or another, creatively speaking. I think I’m a helluva songwriter and I have a broad spectrum in terms of the type of music I play. For example: Gitane’s brother is a big supporter of hers, but he’s never heard her music because he’s a hardcore Christian. It’s always been too dark for him. So we went into the studio and did five gospel tunes as a gift for him. We did five standards and he cried when he heard it; he was amazed. So we’ve done gospel, we’ve done full-on free form jazz, and now we’re working on a classical piece.

David: You're very good at tailoring music to specific audiences. There’s a situation in my industry at the moment where brands are losing marketshare, so they’re looking for customized projects since the ability to make a big impact these days is far more difficult. It’s sort of like you pointed out earlier: there’s no more limitless spending unless you’ve got someone like Taylor Swift or Justin Bieber.

Rikk: But some of those acts are not really even music. They’re product. Whatever makes people happy, but ultimately that has more to do with marketing a human being into a demigod. The music is just the medium. 

David: Do you still feel the same about real music today after having worked in the industry for so long?

Photo by John Gilhooley

Rikk: I always look at it the same way. It’s in my blood, it’s in my bones; if I don’t do it I will physically die. I tried to quit for three months one time because I got bitter about the industry. It was an ugly time, I needed money, but the music wasn’t making any money. I was high and drunk all the time and I was just kind of pointing fingers. Finally I just said fuck music; I’m going to quit. I just did regular work after that and didn’t even touch an instrument for about three months and started feeling weird. I was literally dying. When I started playing again after that I felt better. It’s physically engrained in me. It’s in my DNA. I have to do it to survive. 

David: Where did the bitterness come from?

Rikk: I think some of it came from watching my peers. I would say: “Gosh, look at them. They’re just flying right up there.” I’d always wanted to be a rock star, so to speak, and watching some of my peers become rock stars, moving ahead of me while I was sitting on a ladder, that’s when I started getting bitter. I wasn’t in sync with my body at the time and I was spiritually empty. 

David: Besides sobering up, how did you move past those emotions? Did you come to terms with something profound?

Rikk: Yeah, I had to come to terms with the fact that music will always be there for me. It didn’t let me down, I disappointed it. I let music down, not the other way around. When I was in high school, I was a tormented, stinky, ugly kid with fucked up teeth. I was a whipping boy. I was the one they picked on. Sometimes I would come home crying and go into my room and listen to music, or grab a guitar and play. It was juice and it got me through all that. I take the experience, the bitter, the tragic, and write about it, turn the poison into medicine. 

David: How old were you when you joined your first band?

Rikk: Fourteen.

David: What was the band called?

Rikk: At first we were called RMS because on the back of an amplifier it will say something like 50 watts RMS. After that we morphed into another band called Praying Mantis. I was the bass player. At that time every band was a cover band; no one wanted to do originals. We used to play high school parties and gigs like that. 

David: But then you found success and the crowds started getting bigger. What do you think is the biggest crowd you’ve ever played in front of?

Rikk: That would be in 2002 at the Inland Invasion. That was an amazing show, probably in front of about 60,000 people. However, I love doing more informal, DIY, security-less parties and small personal venues, so the size of a crowd means little to me. I feel the energy and impact (in large shows) dissipates into this sea of sheeple, most of them oblivious.

David: That was with the Adolescents?

Rikk: Yeah, before Casey and I got the boot for the fourth and last time. But now we’ve got the Radolescents, which is Casey, myself, and other people who were in the band at one point or another. The band had stopped doing all the early stuff, and people were jonesing for it—ourselves as well—so Casey and I threw this idea together to play the early hits and people went nuts. We had some people telling us we were better than the present Adolescents, but I would say: “Well, you’re just going down memory lane.” We don’t want to start a rift. Tony’s already not happy with this.

David: Tony Adolescent?

Rikk: Yeah, but he’s getting over it. I saw him the other night and we hugged. You know, we’re all best friends forever in the end. That’s another issue with the industry of music: once bands start making a buttload of money the ugliness manifests itself and brother turns on brother.  

David: I think that’s part of any industry, right? That’s the old Cyndi Lauper song: “Money Changes Everything.”

Rikk: Yep, that’s why you try and make the deals and financial agreements right at the quick of it. You’ve gotta get everything on paper so that there’s no arguments later. Do your history. That’s what always happens. 

David: That’s always been an issue in the music industry with record labels. 

Rikk: Yeah, but today you have more creative control. Back in the day you’d turn in a record and the labels would say we can’t accept this because it’s too this or too that. Oh, and you need to dress like this, cut your hair, and lose twenty pounds. Fuck that shit. A lot of bands would do it though. Maybe you’d make a lot of money, but the artists didn’t make it, the industry did. I love the current model because I have creative control and ownership over my music. If you want to sign with a record company you usually have to sign away half of your publishing, but there’s nothing wrong with that as long as they’re affiliated with a larger label and they really push it: get it in films, on TV, and such. 

David: That’s the same for distribution in the booze business. But it’s getting harder today with so many brands out there.

Rikk: That’s a whole ‘nother ball of wax. Because of the saturation of the field they’re really cheap today with how they pay for publishing. They’ll only give you a one-time fee, whereas before it was a percentage over a certain amount of years. If you complain they’ll say: “We can get a hundred bands that sound just like you who will do it for free, so take it or leave it.” That’s life. 

David: You still seem to have a positive outlook through. I have a love/hate relationship with the modernity of the internet and the industry challenges that come with it. Having creative control is really important though. If I didn’t have that at K&L there never would have been a Frontier Records collaboration and we never would have pressed those records and made those spirits. We never would have met.

Rikk: Yeah, doing those side projects adds value and spice to life. Making things happen, not having to go by protocol all the time. That’s the joy. There’s the old adage: money cannot buy happiness. Happiness you can make for free. If you’ve having fun and you’re not worried about the money, it seems like things start falling into your lap. When I started taking care of myself, it seemed like things got easier. That’s when I realized I needed to start producing more and more. I’ve gotta use these gifts, I can’t abuse them. I was being rewarded for doing things the right way. The thing that makes me happiest in life is when people get something out of my music. 

David: That’s happening all the time, trust me.

Rikk: I get to meet people every now and again who say things like: your songs made me feel like you understood me, I wanted to kill myself, but you saved me life. When I hear things like that I get...excuse me…I get choked up. That’s a gift in life that you cannot buy. I can die happy after hearing that. 

-David Driscoll


We Three Kings

It's that time of the year again; the lead up to the Christmas season when I like to do a special whisky offer in a trio. In the past it's been Four Roses barrels (the three gifts of the magi), but for 2017 I'm bringing you three very special barrels using code names to hide their true identities. In order to understand the secret contained inside each very special Sovereign bottle, you have to understand a bit about how the Scotch industry works and what teaspooning means. There’s a long history of barrel trading and brokering between blenders and distilleries in Scotland, and some producers are very protective of their name brand. As you’ve likely noticed, we’ve been able to secure single cask selections from top names like Bowmore, Caol Ila, and Highland Park over the years, and those distilleries allow us to use the name, but others take more drastic measures. By adding a teaspoon of a second single malt whisky into the barrel, the whisky instantly becomes a blended malt rather than a single malt, rendering the labeling of that whisky as a single distillery illegal. Hence, all these whiskies say “Blended Malt” rather than “Single Malt” and we’ve used code names to refer to each edition. Let's look at the first one pictured above:

1997 Hector Macbeth 20 Year Old "K&L Exclusive - Sovereign" Single Barrel Cask Strength Single Malt Scotch Whisky $99.99 - This 20 year old Hector MacBeth single barrel comes from one of the Grant family's famous Glens and it only takes one sip of this rich, supple, and oak-laden whisky to instantly recognize that classic profile. While the 21 year old distillery version of this whisky will run you $150 or more, this cask strength, single barrel 20 year old release offers a serious bang for your buck proposition in exchange for the anonymity. The initial flavors are oily with vanilla and sweet resin and brandied peaches, moving quickly into concentrated oak, toasted barley, and creme brulee. The finish is dry and spicy and at 56.4% the heat is on! Of the three Sovereign teaspooned casks we have to offer this December, the Hector MacBeth is the darkest, oakiest, and most concentrated of the bunch and when you taste it there's really no doubt about where it was made. You've seen the ubiquitous green tins for the 12 year lining the major liquor stores and airport duty free shelves all over the world, the mark of the deer above the distillery name. This is a 20 year old, single barrel cask strength edition of that classic Highland profile for a cool $99.99. Why the deal? Because of the small teaspoon of a second whisky added into it. I'll take that deal every time, however. I'm guessing at least 200 other fans of the Glen will take the plunge with me.

We have to be very careful revealing the source of this particular barrel as we got in trouble last time around from the distillery who wanted to know where we had tracked it down and how it made its way into our hands! All I can tell you for right now is that it was made by one of the most famous producers in the Speyside and that it tastes every bit as soft, creamy, succulent, and refined as all of the official distillery releases. If you're a classic Highland fan who loves the purity of single malt that tastes like fruit, barley, oak, and spice, then you're going to treasure this bottle. It's simply Scotch whisky perfection without gimmicks, barrel enhancements, or any other unnecessary additions.

1995 John McCrae 22 Year Old "K&L Exclusive - Sovereign" Single Barrel Cask Strength Single Malt Scotch Whisky $99.99 - This round, luscious, soft-textured 22-year-old malt whisky is from Scotland’s Speyside region, made at a very famous distillery renowned for its doublewood expressions and its famed wooden blending vats, sometimes referred to as tuns. While there’s no sherry maturation in this single hogshead, this whisky is grace and elegance defined: golden grains, supple vanilla, richly-textured stone fruit, and generous oak on the finish. Independent casks from this distillery are almost never available, making this John McCrae a true rarity for those in the know.

Those of you who just bought our 24 year old Old Particular cask on pre-order, might also want to have a look at this special 11 year old mystery barrel from "William Hepburn" as both ultimately emanate from the same place. This 11 year old edition is distilled Highland refinement in a bottle. It's gorgeous from front to back, no frills, nothing out of the ordinary, just classic sweet stone fruit, grains, vanilla, oak, and malt flavor at full proof with no water added. The only thing that's been added is a teaspoon of a second malt whisky, rendering this barrel a "blended malt" rather than a single malt. That means 99.99999999% of it is from....William Hepburn....and the other .000000001% is from somewhere else. That's why the price is so good. I'll take the secret deal over the expensive brand name every day of the week.

2006 William Hepburn 11 Year Old K&L Exclusive "Sovereign" Single Barrel Cask Strength Single Malt Whisky $49.99 - This 11 year old William Hepburn comes from a distillery in the Speyside known for its sherry matured 12 year and 18 year old editions, as well as its Fine Oak collection. While recently offering up a Classic Cut higher proof edition, rarely do we see non-sherried editions of this whisky at full proof. Despite the 56.9% ABV, the renowned elegance of this distillery shines through here with soft stone fruits (pears and nectarines), supple vanilla, and creamy malt flavor highlighted with oak spices on the finish. Highland whisky fans will be thrilled with the bolder, more concentrated edition of a classic profile. Fans of the big Mac will rejoice, snagging a serious discount with this teaspooned edition.

-David Driscoll