April 2010 - part 2 <--- May 2010 - part 1 ---> May 2010 - part 2

May 13, 2010

The CSS sessions – Four Glendronach

MUSIC - Recommended listening: I thought you might need to further feed your collection of good drinking songs. This is Whiskey by the ShitKickers. Please buy the ShitKickers' music.

May 12, 2010

MUSIC - Recommended listening: a kind of music that we don't often have on WF, some nice sweet and easy loops by DJ Whitesmith. It's called Benjamin's lane - please buy DJ Whitesmith's music.

NEW GEM FROM THE GLENWONKA'S ARCHIVES UNVEILED

Remember that we managed to get hold of the secret archives of the sadly brankrupt distillery The GlenWonka? Our latest find is this weird project of a new bottling called 'Foreshots', that was to be launched in 2010.

In a press release that was to be broadcasted this month, famous whisky expert Angus W. Apfelstrudel had written: "For immediate release - We knew that several Scottish distilleries were about to launch new make into the market after our successful own ‘The GlenWonka’s Naked Truth’ that we launched last year, that's why we decided to go one step further and to propose sample bottles of our stunning foreshots, with guaranteed methanol content. We plan to propose to the most loyal fans of The GlenWonka further one-off bottlings of our mashing water, wash, low wines and feints, all very fairly priced at £120 a 37.5cl bottle. We believe these highly exciting new bottlings will be a huge success among the most discerning whisky enthusiasts. We are even more delighted because these new bottlings are the quintessence of everything The GlenWonka stands for, which is making the single malt scotch whiskies gin vodka drinks of tomorrow with our past in mind.”

Annoucement: for immediate sale, 32,271 empty refill bourbon barrels and 6 empty refill sherry butts. Please contact Fergus at fergus@thewglenwonka.co.uk.

May 11, 2010

Tasting three official Springbank

MUSIC - Recommended listening: some very nice little blues with Vancouver's Marla Guloien singing Don't call me baby. Please buy Marla Guloien's music.

May 10, 2010

GOOD LUCK TO YET ANOTHER COMPETITION
After several well-established competitions such as the International Wine and Spirit Competition (IWSC), the World Whisky Awards (WWA), the Malt Advocate Whisky Awards, the Icons of Whisky Award, the Spirit of Speyside Whisky Awards...

... or the International Spirits Challenge (ISC), the Malt Maniacs Awards (the best of courset - err...) and the San Francisco World Spirits Competition (SWSC) plus loads of other smaller and sometimes - not always - frankly insignificant yet much trumpetting 'premium international competitions', here's a brand new one, the Spirits of the World Contest. Dodgy English but at least their graphics are appealing... Hats off!

MUSIC - Recommended listening: simply Fathead's Where's the blues taking me. Please buy Fathead's music.

May 9, 2010

Tasting two Octomore

MUSIC - Recommended listening: Chumbawamba's conscious hit Add me and its quirky lyrics. Please buy Chumbawamba's music!

May 7, 2010

Tasting two 1973 Teaninich

MUSIC - Recommended listening: some quite superb ethnic jazz (what a stupid category name) by percussionist Richie Barshay called Peacock. You can really see a peacock walking... ;-). Please buy Richie Barshay's music.

May 6, 2010

CONCERT REVIEW
by Nick Morgan
SONGS IN THE KEY OF LONDON
The Barbican, London, March 9th 2010

Regular  readers of these reviews will know how much we normally enjoy the themed music shows that now seem such a feature of the programmes of both the Barbican and Southbank. 

They may be a tad shambolic and under-rehearsed, but there’s normally a great bond between audience and performers, and a shared sense of excitement  about the fact that no-one can be sure quite where the evening will go.  And the occasionally eclectic combination of performers is not only a great way of being introduced to artists one might otherwise never see (for example, the Photographer’s new favourite Green Gartside)  but can also bring out some stunning interpretations of familiar works.  Sadly then, this evening’s show, Songs in the Key of London, ‘curated’ (as they like to say) by Chris Difford (of Squeeze fame), singly failed to reach the bar set by other shows.  It’s not that there wasn’t a great line up: Kathryn Williams, Suggs, Mystery Jets’ Blaine Harrison,  Robyn Hitchcock and  James Hunter were but a few of the performers. And I wouldn’t fault their enthusiasm, certainly not Difford’s, who visibly willed and nursed many of the performers through their pieces. 

It was just that the whole thing failed to gel, from compere Phil Daniels, almost going through the motions as he read awkwardly from a script, to the accompanying visuals which constantly evoked an assumed  golden age of the late 1960s, through a number of lacklustre performances, and the almost completely monochrome, mono-cultural and mono-chronological nature of the event.  As the music of the wonderful Lord Kitchener reminded us at the start of the show and during the interval, London (like all cities) is nothing if not a melting pot, from whence its cultural strength and richness derive.  Sadly little of this was reflected on the stage during the evening.

Low marks went to Kathyrn Williams, who frankly struggled with show openers  ‘Foggy day in London’ and ‘A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square’, while Chas Jankel and Derek Hussey with the house band never captured the intensity of the Blockheads’ performances of songs like ‘What a waste’, and ‘Billericay Dickie’.    Indeed, the latter being a song whose lascivious references to  Burnham-on-Crouch  and other Essex locations might have disqualified it from inclusion.  I was less than persuaded by Phil Daniels’ performance  of Blur’s ‘Parklife’ with Natty, and James Hunter seemed very out of place singing Donovan’s ‘Sunny Goodge Street’. 

Peggy Sue’s folksy rendition of the Clash’s ‘Guns of Brixton’ was a nice idea, but ultimately prosaic.  Difford sang David Bowie’s ‘London boys’, and later joined Glenn Tilbrook for ‘Up the junction’, but only after Tilbrook had stunned the audience with a rendition of Des O’Connor’s forgettable period piece, ‘Dickie dum dum’, a very inferior take on ‘Engerland swings’.  I found Jools Holland’s bluesy assembly of London musical clichés was little more than an assembly of London musical clichés, and ‘Oranges and lemons’, a tribute to Ian Dury, co-written and performed with Suggs rather weak. 

I wasn’t sure why Rico was asked to struggle through ‘Love’, although he did provide one of the more insightful moments of the evening when asked “what was it like when you came to London, Rico?”,  he answer: “cold”.  And although the performance remained muted, if not a tad self-congratulatory, his  audience certainly warmed up when Suggs returned with Chas Smash  for ‘We are London’ from Madness’s acclaimed recent album The Liberty of Norton Folgate, and ‘Our house’. Personally I think I’d had enough by then, although I confess I couldn’t take my eyes off their impeccable hand-tailored jackets.  In retrospect, the pick of the bunch were probably Robyn Hitchcock singing ‘Tramways of London’, Tunng, who sang John Martyn’s ‘London conversation’, and Blaine Harrison’s  sweet covers of Elvis Costello’s ‘Man out of time’,  and ELO’s ‘Last train to London’.

So we left slightly early, heading into the cold London streets, which meant turning our backs on Elvis Costello singing ‘Hoover factory’ and ‘London’s brilliant parade’, as the encore, and the predictable ensemble performance of the Kinks’ ‘Waterloo Sunset’.  A very unsatisfactory evening.  And I sensed my discomfort was shared by many in the audience.  No doubt everyone had come with different preconceptions of what the evening would hold, but I suspect few were realised.  And maybe therein lies the problem.  London is too big a city, with too big a narrative, to be captured in a few hours of songs, mostly drawn from only a few decades of its history. - Nick Morgan

Tasting two young Blair Athol

Blair Athol 10 yo (40%, Fortnum & Mason, 2010) Colour: pale gold. Nose: starts extremely easy, fresh and fruity, on a combination of pear juice and barley sugar. Some pleasant whiffs of wild flowers (lilies of the valley). Gets even more pearish after a while. Undemanding, I’d say. Mouth: sweet and light, kind of summery, on apple pie and just a little liquorice. Goes done effortlessly but it isn’t weak. Finish: short but even more on liquorice. Comments: not much happening but it’s pleasant, this one would go well on ice. SGP:431 - 78 points. PS: F&M write that this one ‘has a rich and decadent character’. I guess the copywriter was drunk or under unlikely substances.

Blair Athol 1998/2009 (46%, Berry Bros & Rudd, cask #2157) Colour: pale gold. Nose: same kind of profile as the Fortnum’s, only a little bigger and more on ripe apples and less on pears. Gooseberries and plums. Very easy! Mouth: once again we’re close to the Fortnum but with more oomph and even more liquorice on top of the notes of apples and light honey. More spices too, ginger, liquorice… A little orange and caramel as well. Finish: medium long, clean, fruity, easy. Very, very slight feintiness in the aftertaste. Comments: I must say there isn’t much to say. It’s good, right. SGP:441 - 83 points.

May 5, 2010

Tasting young and old Mannochmore

Mannochmore 8 yo 2001/2009 (62.1%, Scotch Malt Whisky Society, #64.20, 481 bottles, 'Chilli, vanilla, Nutella') Colour: white wine. Nose: whah! It instantly reminded me of the quite famous 18yo Manager’s Dram at 66%, with these heavy notes of olive oil, linseed oil, graphite and ink plus an immense grassiness. A little acetone, wet gravels after a summer rain, then more bubblegum, pears and, indeed, Nutella (or any other kind of fairly industrial confectionary). With water: gets a tad acetic (vinegar) but that’s all right. Cider. Mouth (neat): very strong, estery and bubblegummy. Strawberry sweets. Simple but pleasant so far. With water: it got very good now, still a bit simple but the very sweet fruitiness is pleasant. Pear drops, raspberry drops and marshmallows. Finish: long, getting more herbal in the aftertaste. Sorrel? A little pepper too. Comments: a rather spectacular wee beast. SGP:630 - 84 points. (and thanks Gordon)

Mannochmore 27 yo 1982/2010 (58.4%, Cadenhead, Chairman's Stock, sherry cask, 221 bottles) Colour: pale gold. Nose: what’s quite funny is that this one doesn’t nose much older than the 8yo at the start, but develops with a reather peaty/earthy profile. Roots, damp earth, clay, vanilla… It’s all quite austere but rather elegant and very ‘old style’. With water: great herbal notes. Many kinds of herbal teas, cherry stems, green tea, plain grass, whiffs of linoleum… Mouth (neat): excellent attack, very fruity but full and quite rich, nervous, citrusy. Oranges, papayas, pineapples and hints of cider apples (a greenness). With water: the herbal notes that we had on the nose are back. Smoked tea, white rum, rosemary, black pepper… Very good! Finish: very long, even more herbal and peppery. Touches of mustard. Comments: thank you Mr Chairman, there aren’t that many great Mannochmores around. SGP:272 - 87 points.

MUSIC - Recommended listening: Espen Sorensen aka Mzungu Kichaa (The Crazy White Man) singing Ukiwa. Please buy Mzungu Kichaa's music.

May 4, 2010

CONCERT REVIEW
by Nick Morgan
PETER GREEN AND FRIENDS
The Union Chapel, London
March 22nd 2010

I have no doubt that Peter Green is the greatest British blues guitarist that ever lived, and I’m sure he probably has a place in the world’s top five.  He was, as I read somewhere recently, the only British guitarist whose talent ever scared B B King.  He was in a different league from the school of musicians who preceded and followed him in John Mayall’s Bluesbreaker academy.  And his style was very different from the greatest of those, the popularly proclaimed deity Eric Clapton, despite the fact that they both looked to the same regal triumvirate of Kings, Albert, B.B. and Freddie, as their main source on inspiration.   

Clapton was (is) a brilliant technician who easily assimilated and mimicked a huge range of styles; he was fast, and as he showed with Cream was capable of holding his own with a pair of pretty formidable jazz musicians.  But what distinguished Green was his remarkable and quite effortless fluidity, and, something sometimes lacking in Clapton’s work, the depth of emotion that he could convey with a few well-chosen notes.  If you don’t believe me then go and listen to ‘Love that burns’, from the Mr Wonderful album, or even Green’s take on Duster Bennett’s ‘Jumping at shadows’ on the Fleetwood Mac BBC sessions.  It was almost as if Clapton played at the blues, while Green lived the blues, something which later events probably confirmed.  And there was another difference too.  Green’s haunting voice, although I think often overlooked, was as powerful as his guitar technique.  Combined, the two were a force of nature, supported of course by the unique sound that Green produced from his famous Les Paul, with the reverse-fitted neck humbucker, or was it the out-of-phase centre position wiring, or both?  That, you may recall, was the guitar that Green gave to a young Gary Moore almost forty years ago, the very same one that Moore sold for allegedly over $2 million dollars in 2006.

I’m sure that I don’t really need to recap on Green’s rise and fall from musical grace.  He replaced Clapton as an unknown in the Bluesbreakers, left after a couple of years to form Fleetwood Mac with drummer Mick Fleetwood and John McVie, and found number one notoriety  in both the UK album and singles charts with an expanded group that included guitarists Jeremy Spencer and Danny Kirwan.  On the other side of the Atlantic, Carlos Santana adopted Green’s ‘Black magic woman’ as his signature tune.  Blues morphed into a more contemporary style with songs such as ‘Man of the world’, ‘Oh well’, and ‘Green Manalishi’, the lyrics of all of which spoke of Green’s increasing disillusionment with both fame and fortune, which  went hand in hand with an increasing experimentation with narcotics.  His epic encounters with LSD and mescaline are well documented, as is the binge at a private after-show party Munich in 1970, which his then fellow band-members still believe was the final trigger for the mental illness which has plagued him ever since.  Green left Fleetwood Mac shortly after the Munich incident, and without him the band slowly imploded (Spencer walked out on tour in the US to join the Children of God cult, of which he is still a member; Kirwan, an alcoholic, was eventually fired and is still thought to be living rough in London), before reforming with Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, and recording Rumours, one of the highest grossing albums of all time (and developing a collective cocaine habit to match).  Green gradually withdrew from the music world, famously worked briefly as a grave digger in North London, had a short time in prison having threatened a former accountant with a shotgun, all the while suffering from extreme schizophrenia, and the enduring effects of treatments such as ECT.  Surprisingly he re-emerged in the late 1990s with Peter Green’s Splinter Group, and a series of well-regarded albums.

I have to say that seeing Green with the Splinter Group back in about 2001 was a fairly distressing experience, but perhaps that’s because I hadn’t quite known what to expect.  Despite the encouragement of fellow band members Nigel Watson and Roger Cotton (who almost nursed him through the set), Green seemed very uneasy and uncomfortable on stage, played mostly rhythm guitar to Watson’s lead, and could barely string a few words together.  I wasn’t surprised when he quit in 2004, or that questions were raised about the probity of the band, and the benefit that Green was getting from it. 

But he’s back again with Peter Green and Friends, and on the basis of this performance at the Union Chapel, a little more relaxed than formerly.  He’s got a pretty good band, Nick Lowe collaborators Geraint Watkins and Matt Radford are on keyboards and bass, the well-travelled Martin Winning on tenor saxophone.  Fronting the band was Mike Dodd, a willing but frankly rather irritating cheerleader, no doubt deemed necessary as a foil to Green, who barely addressed the audience, and rarely looked up from his guitars.  The set was really a run-through of standards (at times frankly quite pedestrian) and some highlights from Green’s back catalogue, like ‘Rattlesnake shake’ and Freddie King’s ‘The stumble’.  A less patient and forgiving audience could have become ill-tempered, but we’d all queued for at least an hour to get in (there was some sort of cock-up with tickets) and we were all very much on Mr Green’s side.  As he warmed up he rewarded us with occasional glimpses of Green brilliance.  He was positively animated when he played two songs by New Orleans guitarist Robert Parker, ‘Steal your heart away’ and ‘Blues get off my shoulder’ (which he also sang very well), when you could just close your eyes and imagine what the rest of the evening could have been like.  But all too often his playing was hesitant, and if I may use a technical term, ‘clunky’, and his voice lacked the power and conviction of the past.  The audience, as you might imagine, went wild for a medley of ‘Oh well’ and ‘Albatross’, and Green’s final encore, ‘Black magic woman’, which he strangely played more like Carlos Santana than Peter Green.

I’ve no doubt Green must find some pleasure in these gigs, and he certainly seemed to have a few jokes with the band as the evening went on.  And no doubt there is some therapy in it too.  But it’s still quite distressing, and uncomfortably voyeuristic, to witness what the ravages of drug abuse and ill-health have done to someone who, at his best, was little short of a genius.  Which I suppose is where I prefer to remember him. - Nick Morgan (concert photographs by Kate)

Listen to Peter Green on myspace (fan page)

A short Balblair verticale

Balblair 1990/2009 (46%, OB) Colour: straw. Nose: starts fresh and fruity (apples, pears) but also a tad sour. New wood (broken branches), vanilla-flavoured yoghurt, custard, then strawberries and bubblegum/Marshmallows. Very young. Mouth: very young yet again, all on garden fruits (peaches, apples, pears) and jellies, with some icing sugar and hints of pineapple sweets. Not that it’s bad at all but it tastes like a 5 years old in my opinion. Finish: medium long, fruity, bubblegummy. Comments: the casks mustn’t have been very active here. Perfectly quaffable but lacks a little structure and complexity in my view. SGP:630 - 78 points.

Balblair 1978/2010 (46%, OB) Colour: straw. Nose: a much more mature and, above all, much more complex version. Light honey, flowers, stewed fruits (peaches, plums) and vanilla plus a little mint and even camphor. Then a little dill, aniseed, moss, fern… The freshness is quite superb. Gets finally a tad more chocolaty and nutty, with hints of Nutella and buttered toffee. Mouth: so much bigger and more complex than the 1990! We’re on another planet, with many fruits (cherries, peaches, gooseberries, oranges) but also many spices (a little ginger, nutmeg, cumin, cardamom). Gets more and more citrusy. Finish: medium long, even more citrusy. A fruit salad. Comments: not quite a fruitbomb but we aren’t too far. Beautiful profile ala old Balblair. SGP:641 - 89 points.

Balblair 1973/2006 (45%, G&M Private collection, cask #3184/3185, 385 bottles) Colour: dark amber. Nose: this one is much more on spices, various woods (sandalwood, cigar box) and coffee. No sherry monster, rather a polished old gentleman so to speak. Hints of parsley and various other herbs, old rancio, old books... Very nice. Mouth: starts all on a very chocolaty and coffee-ish sherry plus notes of raspberry eau-de-vie and a herbal dryness. Strong liquorice, thyme, coffee-schnapps, a little Jägermeister… It’s all very expressive. A few drops of water work very well, making it fruitier and fresher. Finish: long, all on bitter chocolate and herbal liqueurs. Comments: old style sherried Highlander, excellent, with something very “G&M”. SGP:552 - 88 points.

Balblair 1965 (52.3%, OB, American Oak Ex-Sherry Butt, cask #894, 350 bottles, +/-2008) Said to have matured in an ex-Ardbeg cask. Colour: straw. Nose: I was expecting something rich and complex but it hasn’t got most other old Balblairs’ beautiful fruitiness. Instead, it’s rather closed, curiously pearish, with only a few herbal notes that bring some sort of complexity to the whole (liquorice and aniseed). Maybe water will help. With water: it woke up but it’s pinewood galore! Mouth (neat): indeed there’s something smoky and resinous that may hint at an ex-Islay cask but I’m not sure that it matches Balblair’s usually superb fruitiness too well. Notes of retsina, honeydew, fir liqueur, grapefruit liqueur and some rather big lemony notes. Actually, it’s quite spectacular (much more so than on the nose) but these resinous notes make it a little shaky in my opinion. With water: nicer but even more resinous and mentholated. Bénédictine and… toothpaste? Finish: rather long, on the same flavours. Comments: an oddity in my opinion. It’s quite good at times but sometimes these strange Balblair-Islay combinations make it weird. And does the ex-Ardbeg cask really make this baby worth £1,250.00? ;-) SGP:562 - 82 points.

May 3, 2010

Crazy exercise – tasting nine 1982 Port Ellen

MUSIC - Recommended listening: Roy Guzman's excellent jazz guitar showcased in a piece called Desahogo. Please buy Roy Guzman's music.

May 1, 2010

CONCERT REVIEW
by Nick Morgan
PARIS 1919, JOHN CALE AND THE HERITAGE ORCHESTRA
Royal Festival Hall, London, March 15th 2010

People often ask me, “Nick”, they ask me, “How do you have such an apparently encyclopaedic knowledge of music?”.  It’s like asking a magician how he does his tricks, isn’t it?  But I will share one essential source that has informed fully my views of the principal performer featured in this review, and given me numerous other compelling insights (as they sometimes say in marketing). 

Did you know, for example, that would-be British Prime Minister David Cameron’s favourite song is ‘Tangled up in blue’, or that if he were cast away on a desert island his one luxury would be a case of ‘Scottish’ (sic) whisky?  Or that cult economist Vince Cable was a fan of Pat Boone’s ‘Love letters in the sand’.  And if you’re wondering, Gordon Brown didn’t express as much enthusiasm for the Arctic Monkeys as he was to later.  What am I talking about?  It’s BBC Radio Four’s Desert Island Discs, which for over forty years has been inviting celebrities to talk about their lives and careers.  It’s a simple formula show where guests are asked to choose their eight favourite records, one of which, along with a book and a luxury, they have to nominate to accompany them,  marooned on an imaginary island.  How else would I know that Jarvis Cocker is a fan of Lieutenant Pigeon’s seminal ‘Mouldy old dough’, or that Madness singer Suggs could contemplate spending his life in solitude with Peggy Lee?  All of life is captured in this sometime marvellous programme, where week by week actors are cheek by jowl with politicians, Nobel winning scientists, writers, painters, comedians and occasionally musicians.  Of course the programmes and personalities can sometimes be prosaic, no matter what their claimed achievements might be.  But on other occasions,  the gentle narrative of someone’s life can be gripping, haunting, never forgotten. 

John Cale certainly fell into the latter category (as did a memorable half- hour with Christy Moore), as he described his childhood, dominated by a tyrannical grandmother who never forgave Cale’s mother for slighting the family’s reputation by marrying ‘beneath her station’, and subsequently falling on hard times.  Although father spoke only English, grandmother insisted that the household spoke Welsh only. 

It was cruelty too ghastly to hear, and possibly explained why Cale spent so much time trying to get away, first to London as a teacher, and then to New York as a musician, where he eventually met Lou Reed and formed Velvet Underground. 

Of course you can travel as far as you like, but a Welsh accent always gives you away, as Cale demonstrated when he briefly welcomed the audience at the start of this performance of his 1973 album Paris 1919.  Of course it’s all the fashion, playing whole albums like this.  But normally at least there’s a reissue, a DVD, or some other promotional or merchandising opportunity that accompanies the show.  Not here. 

Cale is apparently playing it simply ‘because he can’; and of course because he can pack out the Royal Festival Hall in the process.  He’s backed by a band (the nucleus of Little Feat, anxious to earn a living, played on the recording) and orchestra (nice strings and a very lively brass section), but the stand-out feature of the evening is Cale’s voice which booms through the songs with a verve and vigour that is frankly surprising for someone of his age.  That doesn’t always work to his advantage.  Paris 1919 is one of those albums which, for all its qualities, is somewhat trapped in its own time, and if the music can stand the test of time, the lyrics sometimes fall a little short.

Now I should be careful, because I read somewhere that the “the subject of Paris 1919 is nothing less than the entirety of Western European high culture, viewed roughly from a post-World War I, Dada-Surrealist perspective. The album is an epic reassessment of history, geography and art itself”.  But be that as it may, any song called ‘Hanky panky no how’ is bound to raise at least a snigger, whilst references to Enoch Powell were sufficient to mystify the more youthful sections of the audience and I doubt anyone, me included, knew who Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg was.  But that is a slight aside, because the whole performance was thoroughly engaging.

And after a short break following the album performance, Cale returned with his band (and eventually the orchestra too) to perform some other gems from his back catalogue and demonstrate his remarkable versatility.  These included a wonderfully scabrous version of ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ (all that was missing, thankfully, were bleeding ears), a touching setting of Dylan Thomas’ poem ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’, and finally ‘Dirty ass rock and roll’, whose line “Well, you can make a pacemaker blink” clearly now has more meaning for many of the audience than in it did thirty years ago.

I’d almost expected him to take a case of ‘Scottish’ whisky to that desert island, rather than the leader of the Conservative Party, but actually he (John, not Dave) did the booze (and drugs) thing pretty hard in the 1980s, so really it’s not surprising that he took an espresso machine and a year’s supply of coffee beans instead. - Nick Morgan

Listen: John Cale's myspace page (with the original Paris 1919)

Tasting two 1972 Bowmore

A good friend of mine told me that sessions gathering old Islayers that were distilled the 1960s or early 1970s should become increasingly rare on Whiskyfun. He was theoretically right but actually wrong. And no, he’s no politician. Watch this space, starting right today with two 1972 Bowmore. It is to be noted that I only ever had six or seven of those, some stunning, some so-so.