Diff’rent Strokes

It is possible – easy, even – to drink a different beer every day of the year without repetition, all produced entirely within Victoria. Hell, even just the Greater Melbourne area. New South Wales has more breweries, Queensland slightly fewer, plus the rest of the states are also producing quality drops. And this isn’t even taking into account all the breweries from around the world. The trend these days, even with the seeming Big Crunch back to lager, is towards diversity which can only be a good thing. With so many different breweries to choose from, we see a lot of different methods, styles and personalities at play. They manifest in multiple forms – the choice of beers to brew, the methods used to produce those brews, and the personalities that can spring up around those brands. What I find interesting is how these breweries and brands tend to develop an almost human character.

               Some of those breweries have a deliberate ‘persona’ – Young Henry’s likes to put itself out there as the young punks, the rock ‘n’ roll kids of the beer scene – a post which Brewdog are reluctant to vacate. Balter are the laid back surfer dudes. MoonDog are the Willy Wonka types, complete with whimsical naming and theming, and completely off the wall ideas, not all of which stick their respective landings, but bless them, they do push things forward.*

               *So let’s put on our classics and have a little dance, shall we? Kids, you can ask your parents about that musical reference.

               There are plenty of… well, I’m loathe to use the phrase Quiet Australians now, with the right-wing political taint on those words, but there are plenty who are happy to quietly put their beers out into the world and let them do all the talking. Some try novel approaches to traditional techniques, like Boatrocker, Wildflower or Black Arts Brewing’s barrel aged offerings, or Hop Nation’s marriage of winemaking and brewing to name but a fraction of producers using such techniques.

               Some stand for something specific and deliberate, as Mountain Goat once did when Cam and Dave, recognizing the glut, founded it as a brewery to produce anything but lager. Like Fixation as yet still does, fueling a passion for all things Indian, Pallid and Alien. As Sailor’s Grave do by championing local and native produce. Some just crank out cracking drops, batch after batch, with no apparent rhyme or reason, like Banks Brewing, Range, Co-conspirators, Mountain Culture or Dainton.

               What is fascinating is how a brewery or brand can become like a person in a consumer’s mind. This is easy when there is a cult of personality at work, a person or people who are the heart and soul of an operation. A gift of gab, someone who can stand out as a real character, or rule with an iron fist. Somewhere the founder’s personality or philosophy imprints on the brand. Someone like Mazen Hajjar at Hawkers, or Jane and Danielle, the two birds late of Two Birds (at different ends of that scale).

               Some breweries try to construct that, or co-opt it. I like to think** that the modern consumer is quite discerning, however their tastes run, and tends to be aware of when they’re being manipulated. An entirely marketing-driven and focus-group reinforced construction holds little appeal to the savvy consumer. I may be kidding myself – perhaps people believe the Furphys, or love their ultra-masculine Iron Jacks and their enigmatic larrikin James Squires, and choose their brews based on an entirely manufactured personality.

               **Perhaps charitably

               A brewery, being a business planted firmly at the intersection of hospitality, production and retail, has a unique opportunity to develop a personality in a way that a lot of businesses can only dream of. Action is the greatest proof of intent. If a brewery produces things that are new, that are interesting, that are artful, that are fresh, exciting, capable, then they earn their stripes. They may also do so by diligent and faithful but nuanced reproductions of classic brews, or complete dominance of a certain style. Their reputation grows organically from this. If they can tell a story with their methods, their ingredients, their vision, then they are coming from somewhere strong, and their reputation, whatever it might be, is earned. The consistency of the product, the reliability of quality, the fun and expectation of new releases act as all the laurels a thing needs to be beloved by its demography.

               Sometimes a lack of character is a conscious choice. A tabula rassa onto which you can project anything you need, or want. A character-shaped hole into which you can pour your assumptions and expectations, your memories or, frankly, your indifference if your care for beer runs that way. This way you have your own tailor-made mascot version of the product, which can’t jarr with what is in front of you, because you put it there.

               Perhaps we can watch, with interest, the growth of these corporate personalities. An ideal world would perhaps see consumers rewarding their local producers, purchasing from members inside their communities, or from places doing great or even interesting things elsewhere. Who knows? As the world tends towards Corpocracy, with certain courts granting them the rights of individuals without the responsibilities, it is interesting to peek between the cracks of the Zaibatsu mega-facade and see the humans inside, still working away, trying their best to put out the best product possible, and advance the craft that they love.