Springbank 12yo Cask Strength
October 2024 Release | 56.2% ABV
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
Remarkably refined and full-on all at the same time; take your time or just give in
The ‘free’ internet.
When I first found Wikipedia I was in a business development role and I used it voraciously, before being warned off by a manager who swore none of it could be trusted.
Perhaps, back in its infancy, there was some truth in the fact it could be unreliable. In my experience though, these days, it’s usually pretty concise. We always need to be careful and use multiple sources, but I’d say the world's biggest - and most read - reference repository is as trustworthy as anything else in digital 2025.
I mention it because I love the model; especially that it’s a non-profit funded by donations and run by its team of ‘Wikipedian’ volunteers, without ads or distractions. All very wholesome, in my wee head at least. I enjoy an occasional tumble down a Wikipedia rabbit-hole of endless link-clicking to see where I pop back out again. In fact, I use it so much that, if it were to disappear, it would leave a huge hole in my internet. To the point I really don’t mind the occasional reminders from Jimmy Wales asking me for £2. Which ends up being £10.
Anyway, you know what’s coming don’t you?
Firstly, if you’re sitting comfortably, let’s get our imaginations fired up and jump back in time a bit - in our mind’s eye at least. Let’s head back to the turn of the millennium, before things like Wikipedia were possible, when we bought copious amounts of printed copy. You remember: magazines, newspapers, comics and books. Let’s walk into one of those bookstore/newsagent places and take in that smell; the rich and comforting smell of print. We’re looking for something to read alongside a coffee while we wait for our bus/train/plane what-have-you. Now imagine that, while we browse the endless glossy covers, we happen upon a whisky magazine. Let’s imagine it’s a monthly.
As we lift it and peek inside, we find page after page of whisky stories, reviews, recommendations and scores. Our curiosity piques as we flick through its pages to see bottles we own and recognise alongside others that are new to our eyes. The cover price seems fair, so we snag a copy along with our coffee and head out for the comfiest seat we can find - and dive in.
Time evaporates as we’re sucked into facts, figures and relatable opinions alongside personal stories, fun and nonsense. There’s a news section and longer-form feature pieces thrown in too. Some of the writers are so relatable, it feels like it could be written by us. The images cover a spectrum; from quick snaps on kitchen worktops to genuine pieces of glossy art. As we scroll we suddenly realise something; there are no advertisements. None.
What is this? Something completely unique in all of our magazine buying experience! Usually we’re carting around half of the bulk of the magazine in ads. Despite the fact we are used to paying cover prices for magazines, we know half the pages are still selling us something. In a flash, we realise a conflict has been removed - with no ad revenue, the articles that rely on a form of critique are freed from obligation or pander.
We flick back to the start and count; there are over twenty articles and a preview of next month’s edition shares a promise of twenty more. Even better; if we ask the publisher for the details on any of the past articles they’ve released - ever - they’ll give us that too. They’ll also give us audio and video recordings with the same scope and tone - all about our favourite whiskies and the fun that surrounds them.
Having happily missed our bus/train/plane, we check the front cover of our newly discovered seam of whisky gold. It says £3.99. In a glow of contentment we realise we’ve uncovered something really quite special. How can this exist?
Of course, this imaginary scenario is nonsense. Even back in 2001 you couldn’t buy a decent magazine for £3.99, let alone one that didn’t rely heavily on ad revenue. But it’s a fun vision. Yet of course the reason this might exist would be because it has its own version of ‘Wikipedians’ working away in the background to provide hours of relevant content for those who love whisky.
But, before we give up on our soothing minds-eye visualisation, let yourself slip gently back into that little scenario for a second so you can realise that, as you checked out at the newsagent, you only paid for your coffee. The magazine was free.
The £3.99 on the cover was just a suggestion. Totally optional.
In your gratitude, you feel like heading back to the checkout with your £3.99. Maybe you will. Maybe you won’t. It’s an extra step - an action you really don’t have to take. No one will judge you either way. And next month you can come along and do the same thing all over again, once more without judgement.
Of course the name of this imaginary magazine is Dramface and, as fun as our wee scenario is, it could never have existed in 2001. Not for free, not even for £3.99.
It’s 2025 and information is not only largely free and democratised, there’s more of it than ever before and everyone has their own printing press, in-house distribution and shop front. There are at least two generations that take all of this for granted and that’s fine. Just as I took healthcare, food or warmth for granted when I didn’t know differently. It’s progress.
Yet, even in 2025, everywhere you look there are people who want to sell you things, through legitimate and obvious routes but also - and far more likely - cunning and subterfuge. Influencer fatigue is the new buzzphrase for 2025. There’s always a price to pay. And let’s not forget our own raw cost of the significant technology to allow us to access all of this ‘free’ modern stuff.
Yet, there remain legitimate places out there in the world that can work independently of ulterior motives. Places that have found ways to exist without reliance on sponsors or paid-for favours. I think, at least today - and in the context of whisky - Dramface is an example of that. Yet, next month we will celebrate three years of existence and that’s when things get critical. Let me explain why.
Firstly, the sheer human hours of putting Dramface together is huge: the admin, maintenance, building, editing and scheduling. Then the hours of managing the daily social media, across six channels, and realising that, even if we add all of it together, it still doesn’t add up to the hours that’s put into generating the content; the efforts of our writing team.
So, what’s in it for this benevolent collective; Dramface’s very own ‘Wikipedians’? Well, not much, truth be told. They’ll occasionally get a zero-obligation freebie or a wee bonus but I’m assured none of them sign up or contribute for that reason. They sign up for the culture, to be part of something, to join in on the relevance and the vibe and feel like they’re contributing; paying back into whisky; the thing they love.
Dramface, in return, makes no demands on cadence or content. The team writes about what they fancy, when they fancy. It only asks that it’s whisky focused. It then places their words and opinions in front of the eyes of thousands of whisky lovers who devour their thoughts daily, ingesting them into their knowledge pool as they explore Dramface as a serving at the feast that is digital Whiskyville.
Should any of our team read this today, I’ll encourage them to freely add in the comments what they get out of hours of writing and being part of this thing, I’m sure it’s different for each of them.
Anyway, back to those critical things. I’d like Dramface to, one day, provide an income for someone. Then someone else. Then maybe someone else. Who knows? Sure, it would need to evolve over time but one thing I don’t think needs to change is the model. The very thing that provides everyone with the freedom to write whatever they like about whatever they want. The thing that assures every reader that - without ads or sponsorships - the words they read are as independent as they are subjective, beautiful, insightful, flawed, inspirational, informative, clumsy and real; the words of whisky enthusiasts saying exactly what they want. Real whisky consumers with myriad personalities, preferences, journeys and varied levels of experience.
But that requires me to, once in a while, do my Jimmy Wales - and ask for support.
Okay, I won’t ask, actually. But I will occasionally point out the model to everyone who reads or stops by and - gently - ask them to consider how their whisky life might alter should Dramface not be able to sustain itself. How would it change your whisky content consumption if it disappeared?
The three-through-five year mark will be what makes or breaks it. Beyond that, it’s not reasonable to expect it to survive without sufficient support. The model will either be proven as viable or busted as a myth and Dramface - like so many that have gone before - could simply become one of the earnest projects that was good while it lasted.
Anyway, as you read this, thanks to the amazing folk who have stepped forward to support, it comfortably covers its raw costs and so therefore not only exists but enjoys rude health, which means it can review this whisky today.
Review
Springbank 12 Cask Strength, Ocotober 2024 release. bottle code 10.9.24, 60% ex-bourbon, 35% ex-sherry, 5% ex-rum, 56.2% ABV
£75 and scarce availability
I managed to buy a bottle of this from Glasgow’s Good Spirits Company when it dropped in October last year, but I rinsed it at a tasting. Whisky finds you though and karma arrives in the shape of a good pal who frequents Campbeltown from time to time. He smuggled this back and handed it to me at Christmas. I was so genuinely delighted I hugged him.
It’s interesting to note the softening of the secondary prices, even on this high-demand release. I mean, flippers gonna flip and they can still turn a profit if they’re connected for stocks, but are they really going to bother for £30 per bottle before fees? Anyway, there’s a general sense that these are a little more available these days. I hope - wherever you are - you know some fair retailers who are not out to gouge you and you might happen upon an occasional bottle. It’s never anything short of interesting.
I do wish Springbank were occasionally a wee bit more collaborative and allowed some stock out into the wider whisky sphere; perhaps allow other bottlers a little of the joy, but I can understand why that’s not ideal or possible. Independent bottlers and retailers will not find it easy over the coming year or so and while we hear of rapidly reducing wholesale prices from some quarters, for some casks, we’re a long way away from seeing that manifest at retail. I note Springbank’s indie sibling, Cadenhead’s, released a tasty looking 13yo ex-bourbon example in their latest outturn. At £90 it wasn’t cheap, but the demand is such that I won’t get anywhere near it.
Anyway, let’s not lament what we can’t have and celebrate what we do. I have this wee bottle and I’m grateful.
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
Remarkably refined and full-on all at the same time; take your time or just give in
Nose
Salted toffee caramels, soft smoke, salty air and lots of ripe, red fruit; plums, bruised red apples and blackberry. A little brown banana skin and leaf mulch too. Cola cubes, Calpol and a mineralic chalkiness. Water helps tease out lighter fruits while warm spices flicker.
Palate
Reassurance.
Initially soft at first contact before a wave of big, bold intensity hits. I reach for water to try to parse things out, but the true joy lies in succumbency.
I really try to make more effort though and the first glass enjoys a splash of water which - on top of everything from the nose and after some acclimation - brings out a fantastic mineralic payload along with brighter fruit leaning towards a refined tropical edge. The finish is long and I’m left chewing for ages.
The Dregs
Springbank’s Twelve is always a big whisky.
A quick search uncovers that this release is 60% bourbon, 35% sherry and 5% rum. Whatever; it just works. A beauty and not something to be rushed. I have a couple of open editions from previous years and I considered a comparison, but what’s the point? It’s not like we can go out and choose which to pick up. Each batch is a wee bit different, sure, but they’re all on a similar theme and every one is something to cherish. Even the ‘lesser’ celebrated batches are excellent and always interesting; bold and full on.
This review is almost like a check-in; while it seems inevitable that this should garner a decent score, we still want to make sure it’s so, and all the while reassure those who do chase them down that it should be worth the while. Speaking personally - and out of love for it - if I couldn’t get this at retail, I’d probably pay the £100 on secondary.
I realise I’m very fortunate. I paid retail in October and this one was a gift. That means I have some spare £3.99s to pay towards the monthly Dramface coffers, something I’ve done since the month it launched. After all, I can’t say if I don’t do.
Forgive the clumsy segue, but I should clarify; despite me appealing to you, I’m no Jimmy Wales and I’m not suggesting we are the Wikipedia of whisky - in fact that exists already. But it died in 2019. Due to a lack of funding. Or a model that didn’t work. I’m not 100% sure. Still, it’s there for posterity and I’m grateful.
Dramface is in no immediate danger and is healthier than it’s ever been. Through tight times and good times, we hope it offers value to you all and, however you view it, we’re determined that it endures, evolves and continues to build its content and relevance. We are also determined that the independent model continues.
We’ve flirted with affiliate links for whiskies reviewed, but we’re yet to convince ourselves, so we’ve kept that firmly on pause. It could be that’s a lifeline should we fail to attract the membership of subscribers needed to survive beyond year five, so we’ll see.
Some of our existing members have complained that they can’t donate more - that there should be a higher tier. To that I’d say: use the daily links below the articles that resonate and buy individual writers a dram through their individual links; it goes directly to them and the appreciation makes them giddy. Maybe that’s just me.
As I close out, I’m sorry if today’s reading has left any of you with a pang of FOMO for this excellent whisky, and more so for any potential guilt or discomfort at feeling pressured. Know that you are not required to take this step, indeed, we know that many of you can’t. Reading, sharing, interacting or simply clicking the like emoji at the base of the article - all of which contributes to the site’s success - and all are free.
But isn’t it amazing that there are enough wonderful whisky people in our community that either give freely of their time or a little of their whisky funds to keep this wee corner of digital whisky alive?
I think it is. And maybe it’ll one day be enough to sustain a livelihood.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc
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Dramface is free.
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