Turntable Paradise Funk
Blended Scotch Whisky | 46% ABV
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
My gut tells me this one’s a grower
Whisky and Music
When I think about my obsession with whisky, I often liken it to my love of music…
There are parallels, after all. Both are pursuits that I can talk about fervidly for hours; both are passions that have given rise to enduring friendships; both are pastimes that, over the years, I’ve dedicated an exorbitant amount of my free time, and money to. The only thing that comes close to rivalling my record collection, both in terms of size and in terms of variety, is my whisky collection. If whisky wasn’t so expensive – and if I didn’t live in a terraced house, where space is at a premium – I suspect that by now, it may even be the larger of the two.
I’m a child of the 90s – someone who came of age against a backdrop of MTV, tie-dye t-shirts and Nirvana L.Ps – and I can still remember the feeling of anticipation that came with tearing the cellophane off a brand new record, easing it onto the turntable, and lowering the needle onto the glossy, black vinyl.
Nowadays, the peeling of the seal on a new bottle of whisky, the popping of the fresh cork, the weighty glug of that first pour, all induce the same ritualistic headiness within me. Just like the opening bars of a great record, the first sip of a new whisky can stop me dead in my tracks. Certain bottles keep me going back for more, while others – just like a particular song on an album – require a bit more time and patience to really appreciate. Occasionally, I come across a bottle that, were it a track on a record, could best be described as a ‘filler’. Thanks to the online whisky community, and the abundance of shared knowledge that’s out there nowadays, these bottles are few and far between.
Which brings me to today’s whisky in question: Turntable’s Paradise Funk. A blend of Scotch single malt and grain whiskies, matured in a mixture of cognac, ex-bourbon, virgin oak and chinkapin casks, this core release continues to riff on the musical theme established with the launch of Turntable’s Track 01, 02 and 03 blends, in early 2023.
The original Turntable launches were more expensive, and although many in the whisky community waxed lyrical about them, I wasn’t quick enough to snag a bottle and, alas, they sold out. No matter. Turntable were quick to follow up their inaugural releases with a more affordable core range, comprising three blended Scotch whiskies in three distinct styles:
Paradise Funk; A funky yet delicate duo bursts with exotic flavours. A harmony of caramelized pineapple, smooth vanilla and sweet toffee.
Bittersweet Symphony; This smoothly decadent number shimmers with fiery sweetness and bold malt character. Ending on a flourish of dark chocolate and dried fruits and…
Smokin Riff; An explosive campfire smoke solo, accompanied by a backing track of toffee, pears, raisins and cinnamon.
The one I’ve gone for is the fruity one - Paradise Funk. In a slight departure from their inaugural releases, they no longer list the make-up on the bottle labels. Instead you’ll need to keep the carton around, or a quick visit to their website offers up the following insight;
13% - Knockdhu Virgin Oak Barrel
18% - Invergordon Ex-cognac Barrel
8% - Blair Athol Bourbon Barrel
30% - ‘Unnamed Speyside’ Virgin Oak Barrel
11% - North British Virgin Oak Barrel
20% - Benrinnes Chinkapin Barrel
So, we can see that it’s 29% grain versus 71% malt; an extremely malt-heavy blended scotch whisky and a rare thing indeed. It’s great to have this transparency and information available. The question is, will it be killer, or will it be filler?
Drum roll…
Review
Turntable Paradise Funk, Blended Scotch Whisky, Non chill-filtered, natural colour, 46% ABV
£40-50 and widely available
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
My gut tells me this one’s a grower
Nose
It’s a light, fairly sweet affair that opens with vanilla cheesecake, cream soda, strawberry laces and a touch of highland toffee. There’s coffee here, but not the sort of dark-roasted, black coffee notes that you get in sherried whiskies; rather it’s a very milky, very sweet coffee.
There’s a touch of the tropical character that’s hinted at through the mention of ‘exotic flavours’ on the bottle, but I wouldn’t say that it’s here in abundance. I get coconut, and a little freshly squeezed orange juice, and maybe – if I go looking for it – some pineapple, but that’s about it.
Palate
On the palate, there’s more in the way of tropical fruits. I get watermelon, overripe banana, more coconut, more orange juice, some clementine and some white sugar. There’s a little cinnamon here, and some more sweet, very milky coffee, along with a little crème brûlée.
Considering that over 50% of the whisky in this blend was matured in virgin oak casks, there’s not a lot here in the way of the sorts of woodier, spicier notes that you might expect. In fact, if there’s one thing that this whisky achieves, it’s balance.
My only criticism would be that it’s perhaps a little too balanced. It feels like everything’s been turned down slightly, and as I sip it, part of me wishes that just one or two of these elements were amped up a little – that it had just a little more character.
The Dregs
I’m a huge Bob Dylan fan, and one quote that particularly resonates with me is Bruce Springsteen’s anecdote about the first time he heard Like a Rolling Stone. The track in question opens with a single snare shot, which Springsteen said was a bit like somebody ‘kicking in the door to his mind.’ What Springsteen’s essentially describing is an epiphany moment, similar to the epiphany moments that all of us, if we stick around long enough, will at some point or another experience with whisky. Like a Rolling Stone works perfectly as the opener of Dylan’s 1966 album, Highway 61 Revisited. Why? Because it’s a stone cold killer. Simple.
If Turntable’s Paradise Funk was a track on an album, it wouldn’t be a killer. You could argue that there’s no reason it should be – in today’s market, £40 isn’t stupid money, even for a blend – and in many ways, you’d be right. Despite this, I’m still somewhat ambivalent. For the same sort of price, I recently picked up a bottle of Compass Box’s Orchard House, a similarly fruit-forward, tropical affair (albeit a blended malt). To my palate, Orchard House has a little more grip, a little more weight and a little more of the effervescent, fruit-forward character that I was hoping I might find here.
That said, Turntable’s foray into funk isn’t without merit. Paradise Funk would be a good one for sipping in the sun, perhaps even over ice, and it’s definitely a whisky that you can pour for guests, secure in the knowledge that there’s nothing too challenging about it. It’s also the perfect whisky for starting off a flight, as its light, delicate nature makes it an ideal palate calibrator.
As to the level of transparency, Turntable definitely don’t disappoint. Not only is the cask makeup listed on the box, but there’s also a QR code, just in case, like me, you’re interested in the percentages of its constituent parts. At 46%, and with the words ‘non-chill filtered’ and ‘no added colour’ right there on the label, this is an integrity-forward, fully transparent, affordable everyday dram. It may lack a little of the tropical character I was hoping for, but it’s commendable nonetheless.
All of this is why, despite my reservations, I’m not writing Paradise Funk off. Not yet, anyway. Every whisky collection, just like every album, contains its killers and its fillers, but there’s also a third category: the grower.
These are the tracks on an album that take a while to really get under your skin; tracks that you’re initially tempted to skip, but which you instinctively persevere with. There’s a track* on Dylan’s Highway 61 (the album that opens with the aforementioned Like a Rolling Stone) that falls into this third category. On an album that’s 90% killer, I initially wrote it off as something of a filler. Over time though, it became a grower. Whilst it may not be a standout track, it still earns its place.
Arguably, Paradise Funk earns its place on the whisky shelf in much the same way. Although things are improving, the market is far from awash with integrity-forward blends, so despite its somewhat muted palate, this is still a nice one to have in the collection. As I write this, I’m almost halfway through the bottle, and whilst I’m ambivalent as to whether or not I’ll immediately replace it, there’s just enough engagement here to stop me from reaching past it.
It’s definitely not killer, but I’m not yet ready to write it off as a filler, either. Maybe it’s a grower.
Time will tell.
*Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. FMc
This is a Friday First. We hope you’ll join us in welcoming Fergus into the Dramface community in the comments below…
-
Dramface is free.
Its fierce independence and community-focused content is funded by that same community. We don’t do ads, sponsorships or paid-for content. If you like what we do you can support us by becoming a Dramface member for the price of a magazine.
However, if you’ve found a particular article valuable, you also have the option to make a direct donation to the writers at their Buy Me a Dram page - you’d make their day. Thank you.
For more on Dramface and our funding read our about page here.
Other opinions on this:
Got a link to a reliable review? Tell us.
