Drinking Bramble Rye is like drinking pornography.
I’ve been saving this beer for a while, but couldn’t be happier that I finally opened it. The stench of blackberry jam and cough syrup upon opening knocked me right on my ass – this beer smells like Funkadelic, and at 22 ounces, a double album for sure.
This is a beer made for “America Eats Its Young”, an album that starts off just like the beer, fast and harsh, with no vocals, but after a few minutes it smooths into a cohesive blend of rock, funk, trash and shimmer – not to be confused with Lindsay Lohan.
When drinking this beer you have two options: you can pour it slowly down your throat, like molasses (it’s so thick, it prohibits you from guzzling, which is very kind of Goose Island, as this needs to be enjoyed over a couple hours), or you can spread it on your tongue with a butter knife, dreaming of land where you’re flying into space in the back of the Mothership while Bootsy Collins slowly spreads this gooey nectar directly onto your liver.
This album, like this beer, is not for everyday listening. It would fuck your shit up.