What’s the big deal about Brewdog?

It’s second year.

Summer has passed, and while you were losing weight via sweat dressed as a hot dog handing out American Diner flyers, your friend had set out on one of those infamous Europe inter-railing tours with those friends of his you never met from that illegal rave you never knew happened. You know, the sort of “character defining, life-changing voyage” – the one where they return with slightly more facial hair, a small tan, an almost imperceivable change of accent, a beaded wooden spiritual necklace and having sniffed more substances than a rabid dog. You exchange stories of your summers and since his out-of-body DMT experience sounded much like your hot dog costume situation, you conclude you probably didn’t miss much as you both head to your faithful Spoons.

As your friend returns from the bar, you know something is wrong. His glass doesn’t bare the usual student-budget-defining ‘T’ or ‘F’ obtusely plastered on the front, yet instead there is some form of mammal (a dog, perhaps?) that appears to have had its back broken, its legs stretched into the splits and its howling head merged into its body with no neck.

What is that

“It’s Brewdog,” your friend ostentatiously smirks. Precious drinking time ticks by while he explains the stomach-churning history of the company and tells you that while away he had really started to question whether he wishes to be affiliated with large capitalist corporations as opposed to supporting these small niche businesses. You are baffled.

What are the reasons for drinking Brewdog? You and I know for a fact that taste isn’t the only factor playing a part in their decision – it’s the “edginess” of drinking something made by a “small and alternative” company, even though Brewdog is stocked by Tesco. What’s alternative about that? And, of course, taste is subjective, and as you stare from behind your beloved Fosters across the table at the friend you thought you knew and you don’t see him wincing at each mouthful of Punk IPA, you regrettably shall have to concede that he is simply one of these people who enjoys a pint so strong he’ll find himself whiteying at pres and waking the next day to a bank account only capable of funding for Lidl’s interpretation of Pringles.

It’s stocked in Tesco… So alternative

So, put down your Gladeye IPA and throw your GooseIsland over your head to wake yourself as you realise that Brewdog aren’t really being so edgy – and more importantly, neither are you.

What you drink at Brewdog is not craft beer, it is in fact just like what the rest of us are drinking…beer.

It’s just beer