7 albums from 2021 paired with 7 awesome Alberta craft beers

A year of listening, sipping and ignoring bad news

For me, beer and music are two forms of the same thing. When they’re good, both can take you away from whatever you’re thinking or doing, shake you by the collar and say, “Look! This is what’s important right now! This moment!”

It’s not distraction, or escapism. It’s an entirely different and enriching engagement.

What’s more, beer and music go together perfectly. Remember the old days, when there were these things called “concerts?” Hundreds, even thousands, of people gathered side by sweaty side to enjoy songs played by real live musicians. Didn’t a great beer make the music seem that much better? And, in retrospect, wasn’t that beer all the more tasty because of the music?

“Look! This is what’s important right now! This moment!”

Anyway, that’s my case made for another installment of my annual Alberta craft beer and music pairings – two of my absolute passions, and I love taking a moment to look back on both.

Give me your pairings on the social mediums where you found this mess. After all, sharing my thoughts with you and hearing yours are two forms of the same thing for me: a great big pile of fun. Until then, here are 7 albums and 7 beers.

Album: Ignorance, by The Weather Station
Beer: Landlock Ale, by Craft Beer Commonwealth

This Toronto “folk rock” outfit took a decidedly unfolky direction with Ignorance, its fourth record. It might also be their best. Lead singer Tamara Lindeman talked of becoming obsessed with rhythm during the writing and it shows, as Ignorance feels like a 40-minute groove. It’s catchy, inventive and elegant.

Landlock from Craft Beer Commonwealth is the same. There are some pretty complicated hop expressions and interactions going on here, with citrus fronting the band, but they’re as intriguing as the hooks on this standout track, Atlantic.

Album: This Room/This Battlefield, by Our Next Movement
Beer: Hoppy Hefe, by Fahr Brauerei

I am of an age, and perhaps of a personality, where I do not set out to discover much new music anymore. Some of the bands that defined my youth still make albums, and good ones at that. And if they’re not, I can just listen to all the good ones that they made back when I was young. They’re a comfort during unpredictable times.

But 2021, where every day seemed like a highlight reel of the worst moments of the last, demanded newness. Spotify kicked this instrumental album, by a post-rock quartet from Valencia, Spain, into my mix and I’ve welcomed the punky surprises, the layers, the quirks, the freshness of it ever since. Sharks Always Come at Five is a nice, dancey example.

Same goes for Fahr’s Hoppy Hefe, a summer beer I’m now hoarding, and which is now proving useful in breaking up a stretch of -30 C with brightness and brilliance every time I crack one.

Album: I Don’t Live Here Anymore, by The War on Drugs
Beer: Dark Mild, by Sturgeon Brewing

This was, in some circles, the most anticipated album of the year, following up the band’s previous and amazing A Deeper Understanding, from 2017. Is it amazing? Yes, but without the same pop sensibilities. It is wistful, and dense with a generic but still poignant nostalgia. Yikes – what beer wants to be paired with that, huh?

But hold on, there. I Don’t Live Here Anymore is also the kind of record that wants to sit you down for some quality thinking time. A lot of that will be about the past, but that always informs the present in a way that shapes the future, no? Yes! Sturgeon’s low ABV Dark Mild, rich and roasty, puts you in that perfect mood without clouding your thoughts. It’s a luxury.

Treat yourself to a whole howler (heck, maybe even a growler) and get down to some thinkin’ with a track like the ender, Occasional Rain.

Album: Collections from the Whiteout
Beer: Lloyd Christmas Flanders Red, by Troubled Monk

Here’s a confession: I find describing a beer quite hard. I bet there are people who have read my stuff who will not be surprised by this, and that there are others who can relate. There are two contributing factors. One, not having had any training, I often wonder what my palate is telling me. Two, good beer words are hard to come by. Drinkable and crushable are not good beer words.

But when you like a beer, you like a beer, even if you can’t quite figure it out. Maybe you don’t need to.

Same for some albums. With Collections from the Whiteout, English singer-songwriter Ben Howard’s pop-folk tendencies get much looser, dreamier, fuzzier. It’s like the coalescence of reckoning with past success, artistic exploration and pandemic existentialism. You need to find your own way in but when you do you find an expansive, inviting sonic space. Like Far Out, for example.

So let’s go with Troubled Monk‘s Lloyd Christmas Flanders Red. Foeder aged for three years, it is also a coalescence of many influences. It’s dry, tart, rich … and I’m going to leave it at that. But I do know that it’s not crushable. And that it’s good.

Album: Piecework, by Kowloon Walled City
Beer: Lone Bison, by Ribstone Creek Brewery

One of my favourite Alberta beer trends of 2021 was the return of the West Coast IPA. The haze craze did not abate, and that’s OK, but it was nice to see things a little more clearly again, as newer breweries took up a time-tested style. It was also good to see how old standards held up, like Ribstone Creek’s Lone Bison, one of my go-tos.

This is a no-nonsense IPA, heavy on the caramel and pine, only the faintest hints of the tropical stuff, and well balanced despite the 70 IBUs. Big, bold, a bit of a brute – true to its name. So it goes well with Piecework. This is a beautiful, lumbering barrage of orchestrated noise from Oakland’s Kowloon Walled City, one of the heaviest but still listenable bands I’ve encountered in years.

These are an album and beer with an assertive brand of presence, but they’re thoughtfully nuanced. Give Oxygen Tent a shot. Share it with a bison.

Album: Hushed and Grim, by Mastodon
Beer: Barrel-aged Brett 24-2 Stock Ale, by Blindman Brewing

I’ve been reserving the use of the word complex until now. I’m afraid I do have to use it. Let’s apply it to the music first.

For the unfamiliar, Mastodon is a heavy metal act from Atlanta that treats every song as if it’s an album unto itself, packing them with parts, ideas, sonic twists and turns, layers of vocals, and riff upon riff. In the hands of a lesser band, the complexity of Hushed and Grim would verge on chaos. Instead, it’s the work of a band that always shocks you by getting better.

Blindman‘s 24-2 Stock Ale is the work of a brewery that does the same. It’s a pleasantly busy beer, with the richness of the dark malts overlaid with some brett funkiness, offering much to hold your attention. It’s one of my favourites of 2021, just like Hushed and Grim. Speaking of funkiness, have a listen to Sickle and Peace.

Album: As the Love Continues, by Mogwai
Beer: Anything by The Establishment, but Tangerine Trees in particular

2021 was a big year for some. Glasgow, Scotland’s Mogwai landed its first number 1 album in the U.K. with its 10th and mostly instrumental As the Love Continues. I’ve loved this band for the sophistication of its slow builds and trance-dance toe-tappers from the start, which was 25 years ago. What a treat to see them get well-deserved recognition in such a terrible year.

It took The Establishment far less than a quarter-century to get the recognition it also deserved. In 2021, less than three years after pouring its first pint, the brewery was named the best in Canada and the province at the Canadian Brewing Awards and the Alberta Beer Awards.

Compare the sophistication of brewery and band by matching the unforgettable imperial sour Tangerine Trees with Ritchie Sacramento, one of Mogwai’s best songs to date.

But you could just as easily raise a glass of anything by the Establishment to the fact that, as difficult a year as 2021, it did little to curb creativity.

A very small but really fun Calgary Beer photo gallery from research for Tapping the West

Images from the Glenbow Archives and … someone’s basement

I never set out to write a history of Alberta beer with my book Tapping the West. But you can’t talk about why things are the way they are without talking about the way they once were, so a bit got in there. (I’ve heard that there may be a comprehensive history in the works, and I might nudge the potential author to get on with writing, because that’s a book I’d like to read.)

Part of what got in there was about the Calgary Brewing and Malting Company, or let’s just say Calgary Beer for short.

I was reminded of this aspect of the book (I’ve forgotten much of what’s in there, actually, because I am old) by the recent revival of the iconic brand by Village Brewery, just in time for the 2021 Calgary Stampede. Then I also remembered that I have pictures sitting sad and unseen in a dark corner of the cloud.

So, here, for the first time ever, I reveal those pictures!

OK – there aren’t a lot and they aren’t spectacular, but I do think they say something about the path that beer would take in Alberta over the decades to come, and how something like Calgary Beer would ultimately shape the craft beer community we know and love today.

Thank you to the Glenbow Museum for sharing their archives with me (they would with anyone, of course) and Spencer Wheaton, who allowed me to see his amazing personal collection of historical Calgary Beer artifacts (he’d probably do that for anyone as well because he is one nice dude).

Oh, and what exactly is my take on the impact of Calgary Beer on craft beer today? It’s bound to shock and astonish you, but you’ll have to read the book to find out!

In the meantime, please enjoy these striking images for free.

Let’s start with my crummiest photo – complete with my reflection. Look closely at the date on this maltster’s license for A.E. Cross, founder of Calgary Brewing and Malting: 1892-93. This is likely the start of it all. The real deal.
This is my favourite shot from my visit with Wheaton. The bottle in front was found in a farmer’s barn, and is likely pre-1900. Notice how a lot of these styles – nearly absent in local brewing for much of the middle of the 20th century – resemble modern craft. Uncanny!
A draft of an annual report written by A.E. Cross for the 1900 fiscal year, in which he considers the potential impacts of prohibition and does not seem gravely concerned.
From Wheaton’s collection, this lithograph captures the state of the Calgary Beer facility circa 1910. It was done by Canadian illustrator A.H. Hider, who was know for his hyper-realistic style.
They weren’t called the “Control” board for nothing. I’m including this from the archives because I think it’s funny: Calgary Beer being reprimanded for not asking permission to change a label or whatnot. A different time.
All kinds of stuff – including old bombers on the left! I kinda miss those, actually.
One of several oddities in Wheaton’s collection is this award. I like the fact that Cross must have felt that his product was worth shipping across the ocean for judgement by what was likely a very discerning audience, rather than simply considering it a mass-produced lager adequate for the tastes of the local market and that’s that.
Stubbies! The bottle on the right has never been opened. The proof is a small whirlpool of sediment when the bottle is swirled. (Wheaton was kind enough to sell me the glass for my own collection.)
Preserved for all time. Calgary Brewing and Malting was eventually bought out by the big guys, and the originally brewery, Wheaton told me, has gone to “wrack and ruin.” But, just as Wheaton’s collection includes much more than beer and bottles, Calgary Beer is part of a bigger story of Alberta, one of innovation, determination and success. We can all raise a glass to that – and to the strangely unsettling image on this old bar calendar, which is probably also the work of A.H. Hider.

10 highlights from 1 year of Tapping the West

May 5, 2021 marks the first anniversary of publication of my book about Alberta craft beer

Wow – time sure flies when you’re waiting out a pandemic, doesn’t it? Oddly, it kind of does. Since the publication of my first book, Tapping the West: How Alberta’s Craft Beer Industry Bubbled Out of an Economy Gone Flat, an entire year has disappeared about as quickly as the head on one of my crummy homebrews.

Here’s a thing people say: “Putting a book out during a pandemic – that must have sucked.” They don’t say it quite like that, but they might as well. Truth is, it hasn’t been nearly as bad as I expected. Some publishing houses held back their spring 2020 books. Mine, Touchwood Editions, didn’t, and I’m grateful. Everything has gone all right, at least from my perspective as a know-nothing first-time author.

I’d like to take a moment to celebrate that, and to look at the unexpected highlights of an absolutely horrible year. Thanks to a lot of great people, some decent stuff came out about the book, or happened because of it. In fact, that list is reassuringly long. I’ll spare you – I’ve made a short version below.

Before we get to that, however, thank you to everyone who put the time, and possibly money, into reading the book. That means a lot to me. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I’ll get the chance to clink frothy mugs of fancy beer with some of you, rather than raising a glass from afar, all by my lonesome. Cheers, just the same.

1. Virtual launch, thanks to Edmonton Public Library

2020 was the year that having beers online became a thing, but who knew I’d get to have one with Ben Rix of Bent Stick, Greg Zeschuk of Blind Enthusiasm and a few dozen friends and strangers? This lovely conversation was facilitated by Katherine Gibson at Edmonton Public Library. And now it’s preserved forever on the YouTube for your enjoyment.

2. Review in What’s Brewing

There were a handful of kind (and constructive) reviews for Tapping the West and I am grateful for them all. One that stands out to me, however, appeared on whatsbrewing.ca, a lauded B.C. beer magazine. That the book, as reviewer Ted Child suggested, had the potential to bring the amazing story of Alberta beer to craft lovers from out of province made me think, “Hey, maybe all those summer Saturdays of locking myself in a study room and tapping away in the local library were worth it after all!”

3. Pairing the book with the beers

My book was never meant to be a guide. Alberta has a guide and needs no other. That said, the book is all about Canada’s best beer, so why not showcase the product a little?

That’s why I created this addendum, matching some of my favourite Alberta beers with the people who make them, page by page. I wouldn’t suggest anyone read my book more than once (it ain’t no work of fine literature, after all), but even I could be tempted to go back to this handy, well, guide.

4. Appearance on the Ryan Jespersen Show

Don’t bother trying to click on that image – Ryan Jespersen has been stricken from every obelisk, it would seem, on the webpages of Corus radio, or more specifically 630 CHED, from which he was fired in September 2020. I did a fair bit of radio for Tapping the West, but my interview with Jespersen stands out for his thoughtful questions and roaring enthusiasm (to be fair, this chat with the funny and genial Russel Bowers of CBC Radio runs a close second).

“It sounded like he was yelling at you!” a friend commented after the Jespersen interview. I like that. We should be shouting from the Rocky mountaintops about Alberta beer, shouldn’t we?

5. Gourmand Award for best beer book in English in Canada

I’ve said many times and will say it again here: writing awards are the outcome of the rolling of the dice. If there’s a cosmic alignment of right product, right time, right judges, you win. Change any one of those and yer out, sucker.

Now that I’ve said that, I have to say thank you. Because writing awards, regardless of how you feel about them, do two important things. One: they can attract media, and that’s helpful for someone trying to sell books. Two: they notify you of your worthy co-nominees, whom you should learn from, which I enjoyed doing in this previous post. So, thanks Gourmand – and thank you, lucky stars!

6. Appearance on the Daisy Chain Book Co. podcast

A few very kind people hosted me on their podcasts to talk about the book and I loved it every time. It’s such a pleasure to be able to have a conversation, as opposed to a five-point conventional media interview, with someone who’s willing to devote the time and energy to this mode of longform storytelling.

My chat with Brandi Morpurgo, owner of Edmonton’s Daisy Chain Book Co., stands out because it veered away from beer every so slightly to talk about writing, which is a thing I love to talk about almost as much as craft beer. It’s worth a listen if only to tap into Morpurgo’s passion for supporting the writing community.

7. Learning to make vegan Irish stew

I am a terrible cook. There. I said it so my lovely wife doesn’t have to. (My kids already do.) So when Karen Anderson of Alberta Food Tours challenged me to make a dish for St. Patrick’s Day using an Alberta beer, I though it was about time I tried to make something someone would like, food or otherwise.

This vegan Irish stew, flavoured with Sea Change Brewing’s Irish red ale, shocked everyone in the house. There may be hope for me, and my family, yet.

8. The Christmas marketing campaign

What do you do when you have no cash for some flashy ads to boost Christmas sales? You make your kid work for their holiday loot with an unpaid acting gig, that’s what! This might seem like an unlikely highlight to include in my list, but this “commercial” makes me laugh every time I watch it.

I think you will too. If you don’t, you’ve got a heart like the Grinch, long before it grew. (That was one take, by the way. I think there’s a future there, don’t you?)

9. Exit interview with Neil Herbst

Here’s a thing that wasn’t in the book. Soon after Tapping the West came out, Neil and Lavonne Herbst closed the deal on Alley Kat, their Edmonton brewery of 25 years, selling to local entrepreneurs Zane Christensen and Cameron French.

As part of a story I have coming out on that sale, I re-interviewed Neil. For me, this closed a key chapter in the history of Alberta craft beer. The interview marked the end of his long goodbye to a life’s work, and perhaps in a way my own goodbye to him. Where’s a beer for me to cry into? Can it be a Full Moon pale ale?

10. Planning for the next round

Ah, who am I kidding? I’m not about to let Neil Herbst off the hook that easy. I’m pretty sure that if COVID doesn’t stop me (because as we all know it’s getting in the way of f-ing everything) there’s another book about beer in me yet, for which I’ll need his help once again. It’s been fun to start planning.

For the past couple of years – including the research and writing of the book and the, well, nothing of note that followed – it has been such a pleasure to immerse myself in the world of local craft beer and get to know the people behind it. Like I said in the book, it’s bigger than beer. At least, I think I said that. Somewhere near the back. It’s probably a quote out of context.

In any case, that world, and the privilege of writing about it, is hard to get enough of. So, yes, please, another round (assuming my publisher doesn’t cut me off and send me home).

Let’s see what else is brewing.

Inside craft beer with AMA Insider

Getting the craft beer story outside the craft beer bubble

I think craft beer is an amazing story in Alberta. I wouldn’t have written a book on the subject if I didn’t.

I has it all: passionate Albertans, entrepreneurship, local ingredients, creativity, growth, risk, national and international acclaim.

This is why I try to get that story into a wide variety of forums, rather than just craft beer media outlets. (I know I’m not the only one doing this; just look at Jason van Rassel’s work in Edify every month.) I really believe that the makings of our craft beer industry show a new way forward in this province. Just sayin’.

I was very pleased, then, to be able to tell that story in the spring 2021 issue of AMA Insider. In addition to editor Craig Moy, I owe thanks to

for helping to tell the tale and spread the word about one of the most exciting industries to hit Alberta in decades: barley refining.

Thank you, Doug Dirks! Tapping the West hits the Homestretch on CBC radio, Calgary

After getting word that my book, Tapping the West: How Alberta’s Craft Beer Industry Bubbled Out of an Economy Gone Flat, was the recent recipient of a national writing award, Doug Dirks was kind enough to have me on CBC’s The Homestretch.

This was the book’s first radio appearance in Calgary, where Alberta craft beer was born (and now absolutely thrives). Doug was fantastic and enthusiastic, and I’m grateful for the coverage.

That said, I still can’t bear the thought of listening to my own voice so that I can give you a sense of what I said, so feel free to have a listen by clicking the image above!

Thank you, Canadian Beer News: Announcing the release of Tapping the West

I’m very grateful to Canadian Beer News, an online voice for beer industry developments across the country, for sharing news of the upcoming release of my new book, Tapping the West.

The book officially launches May 5, and is available at local bookstores (like Audreys in Edmonton, which offers curbside pickup) and online at Amazon and Indigo.

A short tour of “Albeerta”

Here’s a taste of what the province’s craft beer boom has on tap

Troubled Monk, Red Deer Alberta craft brewerySince December 2013, when the provincial government lifted minimum production requirements for Alberta brewers, the local beer industry has been booming.

Join me on a short but sweet (and sometimes a little bitter – you know what hops can be like) tour through a small portion of what’s on tap across what’s becoming affectionately known as “Albeerta.”