At BrewDog we are on a mission to make other people as passionate about great craft beer as we are. All we care about is brewing world class craft beer; extraordinary beers that blow people’s minds and kick start a revolution.
When it comes down to it, we are a selfish son of a bitch. We can’t help it. We have a terminal addiction to make beers we want to drink. Beer with teeth and balls. Beer we lust for. Crafted beer.
Experimentation is our Art. Revolution is our weapon. And revolutions aren’t made on formula. They just rip the tits off convention. Added ingredients and preservatives are for hammerheads. Cheap substitutes and chemicals are for thieves and pimps. Those stupid little gunsel corporate freaks think they got us fooled with their tasteless, mindless, visionless crap.
Walk tall, kick ass and learn to speak craft beer.
Start the car. The lights are about to turn amber. Buy the ticket, take the ride.
Past the alley where thieves and pimps sell corporate brews and good men soak it up like vermin, blissful in their ignorance. Past the jackhammers who want their three and a half percent. Keep going. Towards that golden orb, the size of Zeus’s ass, that hovers over this crazy town.
Sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink amber, and drive like a bastard towards that saintly light.
Style: Amber Ale
An American IPA with a bitter edge that will push your citrus tolerance to the brink and back; Elvis Juice is loaded with tart pithy grapefruit peel. This IPA has a caramel malt base, supporting a full frontal citrus overload - grapefruit peel piled on top of intense us aroma hops. Waves of crashing pine, orange and grapefruit round out this citrus infused IPA.
The devastatingly bitter finish will drill straight through your taste buds. If you like hops and bitterness then go ahead. But be warned: this beer has more bitterness than a human palate (or nipple) can detect. For freaks, craft beer junkies and stamp collectors only.
The second placed beer in our 2012 Prototype Challenge is a BrewDog staff favourite, and made a brief guest appearance in our bars last summer.
Welcome to a post Punk apocalyptic mother fucker of a pale ale.
A beer that spent its formative years Blitzkrieg bopping around India and the sub-continent. Quintessential Empire with an anarchic twist. God save the Queen and all who sail in her. Raising a Stiff Little Finger to IPAs that have come before and those it is yet to meet. Turn up the volume Pay the man. Embrace the punked up, fucked up outlaw elite.
Never Mind the Bollocks this is the real shit.
Style: Indian Pale Ale