Islay Connections 10yo
Blended Malt from North Star Spirits | 50.4% ABV
Score: 4/10
Some promise.
TL;DR
A disjointed blend of two distilleries that fails to capture the best of either
Missed Connections
A lifetime ago I spent most of my life in cramped rehearsal spaces with four (usually more) sweaty dudes. Practicing, songwriting, telling our drummer to stop playing while we’re tuning, complaining about late members, fighting, laughing, fighting some more.
These rehearsal spaces, called “lockouts” were a dense community within themselves. The beating heart of any city’s music scene pumps through these poorly ventilated laboratories of sound and fellowship.
They’re called “lockouts” because they exist mostly as glorified storage units with electrical outlets. Windowless, padded, soundproof rooms. Almost like a psychiatric hospital from old movies, but with more beer stains on the carpet. A place where bands can store their gear between shows, rehearse, spend the necessary hours on that one riff that just isn’t coming together, shoot the breeze with other musicians, or have awkward conversations with someone’s new girlfriend who would much rather be anywhere else.
More than just a spot to practice, for local musicians, it was the trendy place to be. Friendships were forged, tours planned, bands came together while others broke up, all within those loud and cramped rooms and hallways.
When I first moved to California, I lived in one of these rooms for almost a year - with two other dudes - but that’s a story for another time.
To be in the Seattle music scene twenty-five years ago felt like being a part of history as the character of the city’s sound shook off its grunge and post-grunge identity, moving toward a dual path of moody, emotional, indie rock, and a harsher, more aggressive punk, hardcore, and metal sound - of which we were briefly a part.
Well, less a “part” and more like a barnacle clinging to the hull of a cruise liner as it slices through the sea, onward to a balmy tropical paradise, laden with the successful. We’re on the same journey, just unable to partake in the best parts of the voyage. We moved for a reason.
Our lockout building had a “lounge” and communal area with couches and tables. Photos and headshots of much more successful bands lined the walls along with graffiti. There was a coffee pot that didn’t work and a water cooler that wasn’t filled, like a demented dentist’s waiting room. This was where the local music scene came together for laughs, kickbacks, and conversations, lubricated with 40oz beers and weed.
Piled on the tables were stacks and stacks of Seattle’s beloved alt-weekly newspaper and icon to counterculture-in-print: The Stranger. The paper had everything. An upcoming shows calendar for our favorite bars and clubs, tongue-in-cheek music and movie reviews, interviews with bands, irreverent articles espousing distaste for the mainstream, serious journalism uncovering political and corporate corruption, writers sending out a warning cry against hollow gentrification, notes and columns from Seattle’s thriving gay and lesbian scene, fresh takes from the underground. Our kind of people.
But The Stranger’s most famous and most widely read feature was its Missed Connections “I Saw U” section. Later popularized by Craigslist but born in the personal ads of decades past.
The “Missed Connections” started as a fixture of newspapers in the 19th Century, written vaguely to preserve identities and anonymity while hoping to be just specific enough to reach its intended reader.
A 19th Century example would be:
“To the dearest gentlewoman dressed in blue who acknowledged a gentleman’s salute at Broadway and 10th at 4 o’clock Tuesday last, please address J.M.B Address D if she wishes to oblige this new admirer and form an acquaintance.”
Or something along those lines.
The tradition flourished in The Stranger, and I spent hours devouring its pages. They were fascinating.
Before dating apps and social media, the “Missed Connections” was a powerful tool for the unconventional, awkward, and shy. A place where artists, misfits, LGBTQ+, and other communities could have a voice - those who wouldn’t or couldn’t advertise in mainstream papers.
We read them aloud to each other as a favorite pastime.
“You were in line for the women’s bathroom at the Murder City Devils show at the Crocodile on Saturday, I said I liked your boots, you smiled and you asked about my tattoos, but I lost you in the crowd after, Blue shirt and flame tattoos would love to get a drink sometime.”
“You were eating garlic bread and taking tequila shots in the park. You asked me for a cigarette, but I didn’t have any on me. I have one now if you want to hang out.”
“Our dogs met in the park but mine wouldn’t stop barking, let’s go for a walk without the pups!”
Etc.
Some were bawdy, some sweet, others were serious, looking for flings, hang outs, long-term relationships, casual dates or hook ups, the whole gamut. Part of me always wondered if any of them ever found each other, like a silly 90’s Rom Com.
Likely, as it goes with life, most of those missed connections were just that.
The Missed Connections articles became so popular that Seattle post-grunge alternative band The Presidents of the United States of America had a song on their debut album called “Stranger” that discussed such encounters.
In today’s world of ubiquitous phones, social media, and sharing numbers, it’s much easier to establish a connection if we mean to and it’s mutual.
But as with everything else in our modern era, the more we’re connected the more we drift apart. The shyness and low confidence many of us possess means after-the-fact courage must still suffice.
People will always pine for that rediscovery of someone or something they failed to catch in the moment.
But, for every missed connection that has a sweet Hollywood ending, there must be others where contact leads to disappointment.
The spark’s just not there like we thought.
Review
Islay Connections 10yo, North Star Spirits, blended malt of Bruichladdich and Bowmore, matured in ex-bourbon and refill sherry casks, 50.4% ABV
US$75 paid, still wide availability
“You, an Islay blend of two beautiful distilleries. Me, an awkward punter. We met on the internet. You talked, I listened. Let’s meet in person and see if this thing is real.”
There were high hopes and expectations for this whisky. I thought the Campbeltown Connection was a good bottle and I agree wholeheartedly with Charlie’s write-up from last year.
When I saw North Star Spirits was doing another blended whisky containing Islay heavyweights Bowmore and Bruichladdich, it seemed an easy decision. Especially after last week’s Kirkland clunker I was ready to move into an expression that was more my lane: independently bottled, higher ABV, Islay blend. Say less.
The styles appear on paper (to me) to be complimentary. Bowmore’s big fruitiness, light funkiness, and soft peat meets the buttery maritime character of Bruichladdich. Two “B’s” in a pod.
Maybe.
Score: 4/10
Some promise.
TL;DR
A disjointed blend of two distilleries that fails to capture the best of either
Nose
Powdered Kraft Mac & Cheese packets. Once I got that powdered cheese note it was hard to shake despite repeated attempts. Beyond that, potato chips. Faint sea-salty maritime notes and light smoke briefly appear. A little farminess. Vegetal. Sweaty socks. Gym mats. Corn Chex. Goat cheese. Smoked gouda. Deli mustard. Fritos. Dry noodles.
Water adds a touch of brightness and brings the barest whiffs of tropical fruits and lemony citrus, but also Cheez-its, more powdered cheese like the bottom of a Cheetos bag, buttered toast, dry parmesan, MSG, and soy sauce packets.
Palate
Oof. A little maltier with some dry cereal notes. More Fritos. Gardettos. Salted butter. A cheesy fatness. Over time there’s sweetness that develops. I actually enjoy it, “some promise.” Peppery charred meat. Decent mouthfeel but the flavors are still off.
Water brings a whisper of pineapple and mango that has me longing for a good Bowmore and shows there’s definite potential here. Faint smokiness finally shows up on the finish that’s ashy, short, and flat. A slightly sweet greasiness sends us off.
The Dregs
Sigh.
The specs on this say both bourbon and sherry casks were used, but no other information is available. I didn’t catch any sherry influence, and besides getting past the lactic, powdered cheese, and salty snacks notes it was hard to detect any cask influence at all. I don’t want to pillory this release and North Star Spirits is a bottler I deeply respect - I’ve had phenomenal whisky from them.
I happened to have a wonderful single cask Bruichladdich bottle and an independently bottled Bowmore on hand to compare and honestly, I would much rather reach for one of those over this blend, despite its initially fair price point (but now I think I overpaid).
I had a friend over whose palate I also respect, seeking a second opinion. Her notes were more along the lines of stadium nachos and pickled jalapenos. She was more fascinated by it than I was and agreed to take the bottle off my hands. It has survived banishment to a dark corner of the Dunlop closet and will hopefully find a second life in a new home.
As I mentioned earlier, sometimes a missed connection is just that. In this case, it’s best we see there’s no spark here and go our separate ways.
Score: 4/10
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