Number 9, Number 9…

If you’ve never heard the infamous, backward, demonic tape loops that supposedly told Charles Manson to “rise up” and catalyze the race war by killing Angelenos, what are you waiting for?
It’s a revelation alright! The birth of sampling, creepy subliminal messages in pop, and essentially the first industrial-rock song.
But for all its Satanic reputation, we believe the only thing truly mystical about “Revolution 9” is how such a scattered amalgamation — real audio fusion — could be born out of the mundane. Record execs talking about wine transforms into eery speaking in tongues. Ringo breathing, Paul strumming a lullaby, and the orchestral tune-up for “A Day in the Life” suddenly becomes some horrible apocalypse of sound at the hands of Yoko and John… a brutalizing police force, crying cows, songs in Swahili, fires burning, flappers laughing, babies breathing, sex and burping, goats bleeting, some weird, experimental psycho therapy sessions….
So, too, have the simple, mundane grains and yeasts of a SoCal brewer been twisted, looped, reverbed and reversed to produce what is unarguably a true fusion of beer styles: Stone’s Vertical Epic 9.
Stone calls it a “Belgian-style imperial porter,” hinting at the 9% booze and its alluring black-brown hair dye color tone. But absent from such a wacky description is the utter surprise of what seems to us like a Double Hefe – chocolate-vanilla banana weed brownies made with Arrogant Bastard Ale, say. Smashed somewhere inside are stout notes, sweet ice cream float material, and authentic Dubbel characteristics. But notably absent, despite their own “Belgian” reference, is any of the cloying beet-sugar tickles that fatty trappists are known for. Perhaps its laying on the cutting room floor somewhere…
Pouring quickly bucks a massive frothy head from this cheeky bitch. We inhaled rings of smoke and herb, but more like a smoking a clove-scented kretek mind you, than hitting your typical San Diego ganja-hop vaporizer. Diving in, there are sweets and spices (cumin candies) swirling around a steady, slightly oily mouth-feel of strong dark beer.
Sitting at a half-lit dining room table, we took this bottle down in, oh, about 9 minutes. Staring into empty cups after, we looked for rewind singing “Can you take me back where I came from? Momma can you take me back?”
Dairy Pairy: Torta La Serena, a raw gooey sheep’s milk cheese from the outer reaches of Spain.
Soundtrack: The Beatles, “Revolution 9”