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(apologies for the absence…no, of course I have not given up beer)
The Feral Brewing Company is probably the worst brewery I’ve ever visited. The beer is good, don’t get me wrong. The place, though, was just rank. Maybe it was the stupidly hot day. Maybe it was the cashed-up bogans who were there in their platformed-heeled, loud-mouthed multitide (it was a Saturday, and there were Hens’ parties. HENS’ PARTIES….YES MORE THAN ONE). Maybe it was the fact that I forked over the equivalent of my newborn child in payment for a couple of cheesy squares that wouldn’t have fed a mouse. As I said though, while the place rubbed me the wrong way, their beer is more than adequate. I have waxed lyrical over their Hop Hog IPA in the past, and now it’s time for their witbier.
As I’m not that fond of the style, it obviously doesn’t tick all my boxes. But as far as Aussie-brewed wits go, this one isn’t bad. Nice citrusy aromas, fairly typical witbier flavours with few of the faults that seem to plague many of the Aussie interpretations of the style that I’ve tried (I have a doozy of a review for you coming up. Oh boy….). Nice crisp taste with a spiced flavour that’s actually a bit too subdued, but it makes up for it by having a finish that’s quite pleasant. Again, this will never be my favourite style but I don’t mind this brewery’s version.
Original Sin were a one-off band comprised solely of individuals who happened to have two X chromosomes each (well, I’m assuming they did, but I haven’t actually done a genetic test…I’m going to stop being silly/covering my butt now) but, unlike too many of the female-fronted bands of today, kicked solid amounts of arse. Speed metal with early power metal flourishes, material written by the guys from Virgin Steele (which explains a lot of the awesome), and utterly vicious in its approach. Rough, uncompromising and fast as hell, but it never gets boring as these “bitches from hell” (their words, not mine) just bludgeon your poser arse from start to finish…well, okay, there are a couple of throwaway interlude tracks, but they’re more than made up for by monstrous cuts like “Bitches from Hell”, “Pandora’s Box” and “Enchantress of Death”. This is one 80s album that took the word “ballad” and laughed at it and then stomped it into the ground where it belonged. If only this hadn’t been a one-off album by this band…then again, maybe it’s good that, unlike many of their contemporaries, they quit while they were ahead.