Special Releases 2021 | 56.2% ABV

The 2023 Diageo Special Releases are out! Broken

I won’t make this a rant. Well, not a big one. I’m tired now. But rants are cathartic. Maybe even energising. So indulge me for a wee one.

Norrie wasn’t available earlier this week and I stepped in to post the news article sharing the details for this year’s Diageo Special Releases. With each block of copy and paste, I felt another ounce of energy drain as the dark fug of whisky depression washed over me. I asked myself why we’re even sharing this kind of news. I suppose, because occasionally we’ll get your feedback and, even if it annoys you too, it’s still whisky news.

The Diageo Special Releases are truly broken. I don’t understand why. It’s a strategy I cannot fathom and I feel it’s no longer for me. It’s certainly long past my stop, I need to step off. How do you feel? Still excited? Maybe it’s not for you either? If it isn’t, when do you step off? Did you already?

I’m a self-declared, invested whisky geek with more than a mild penchant for whimsy, yet this is a release served so sickeningly full of superfluous, vacuous lifestyle hype and excess that it’s challenging even to me. I am also a dedicated admirer of most of the parent company’s distilleries, some of them I dearly love, but I can’t even lean on that to get past this salvo of shallow opportunism. Because, as if to seal the deal, each flourish of seemingly A.I.-generated drivel in their factsheet is garnished with that expected-yet-somehow-still-shocking bold and brazen price gouging.

If Lagavulin continues the pattern of hikes we’ve witnessed over recent years, it’ll break £200 in 2025. So I ask myself why might I pay £155 in 2023 when all it would do is render me complicit in that? These are not rational prices for what’s on offer. This is greed. I don’t know how, why or who, but it’s greed.

I was naive to think that the Roseisle, the first release from their Death Star-scale Speyside whisky distillery, would be a wide and keenly priced release for everyone. I was, of course, wrong. It’s a 12yo and it’s £120. And before someone mentions what Daftmill can charge for a 12yo - true scarcity and contrived scarcity are not the same. Roseisle makes enough whisky each year to fill a lake; any flavour and style you like. The only thing that makes it similar to Daftmill is the human hand-count involved in making it.

Still, I was keen on that Roseisle bottling. I wonder, is this the first Special Release outturn without a single offering under £100? Maybe, but it could’ve been last year. I’d already hit the stop button by then.

You see, the annual special Releases were, once upon a time, special. It was an exciting time of the whisky year filled with interesting and different releases from locked away treasures. There was a buzz around retail and lots of discussions on which ones to grab. These days, it’s appears to be private parties for influencers and those who are ‘the right sort’, even though they’ll never actually buy a bottle. And that buzz of adrenaline that once helped our front-line, guiding-hand retailers? Also gone. I’m of the impression that bricks and mortar outlets are truly reluctant to talk about it these days, especially when Diageo demonstrate that they really want you to buy direct from their malts.com site anyway. Where, incidentally, you can still buy most of last year’s releases too. And lots of older efforts.

I know there will be many who draw attention to how good the liquid is; and that’s sometimes true. Yet with pricing like this, who's going to buy and try? Who’s going to talk about this stuff? Certainly very few independent sorts. I can’t see any of the Dramface team going for any of this. So, that leaves us to listen to those on the inside which, bereft of any kind of rational critique, is the same as just taking a gamble. On what though? Lagavulin finished in tequila casks? I doubt not even the restless Peter Mackie would stand for it.

I’ve linked to the factsheet, but it comes with a health warning; you may find yourself overcome with nausea and depression. And the realisation that the annual Special Releases now carry so much gilding, they have become a farce; a parody of whisky’s enshittification. A broken concept where each year more funds are thrown at expensive made-up back stories and lily gilding, rather than faithfully selling what Diageo actually makes - in Scotland at least - solid malt whisky.

In recent years I’ve stayed onboard while the wheels wobbled a bit, I do enjoy the stuff, but it’s here where I step off. This isn’t whisky for me. I don’t recognise it. I feel uncomfortable here, sad even. I throw a lot of money at whisky, it’s my passion, my hobby, my indulgence. I won’t throw any more at this.

Today’s review should have been about an obvious and bright alternative to this madness, but you’ll find Dramface full of those. There are dozens of producers ready, poised and willing to step into the vacuum wilfully left by the departure of schemes such as this. If these alternatives remain true and offer integrity, we’ll pay fair prices for quality and never demand ‘cheap’. You’ll find many of them celebrated within these pages. With more than 650 whiskies reviewed, at point of writing, and every single one of them independently so, you’re spoiled for choice. Backed by honest opinion.

But today, I’ll stay on theme and review one of the last Diageo Special Releases I purchased.

Review

Oban 12yo, Special Releases 2021, Cask Strength, 56.2% ABV
£105 and still widely available (£100 paid)

There’s another Oban released in this year’s outturn; an 11yo finished in Caribbean pot still rum casks. They’re calling it Oban :The Soul of Calypso, I kid you not, and offering it at a suffocating £140. I won’t be touching it.

Here’s some comedy from their factsheet:

A vibrant cacophony of flavours pulsing with hints of tropical fruit and whispers of exotic sea air.

Vivid energy and a vibrant mix of Caribbean cultures collide in a roar of jubilation, amid a euphoric atmosphere. Bright colours burst forth to the parading beat of steel drums. Celebrating the passionate soul of the Caribbean, spinning Soca dancers lift their faces to the tropical sun, exuberant and radiant in the exotic sea air.

Right you are.

The Oban we have on hand today, however, is a 12yo, ex-bourbon and refill only - Hallelujah! - and cost me £100. Still high but… you know, the horse has been flogged. The bright colours of gilding had already started two years ago with this bottle, but it’s muted by comparison and hopefully you can still see the classy Oban branding, which has since been obliterated in 2023’s release.

I was drawn to this because of the rarity of any Oban expressions from anywhere. A truly restricted distillery, its capacity is a function of its size and it’s making just about as much as it can. Very little has ever made it out into the independent circuit and, in modern times, to my knowledge, none. In fact, I believe I’m correct in saying it’s the first Oban reviewed by the team here.

So, a cask strength, pure, ex-bourbon and refill malt from this pretty western highlander was very appealing. I bought it a long time after it was released and even enjoyed a little discount. It’s still available everywhere, sometimes on a flash sale.

Nose

Buttery malt and shortbread, cooling mint, tangerines, white chocolate and sugared confectionery, candle wax.

Palate

A slightly waxy arrival with milk chocolate and peppermint. A little heat too, white pepper and chilli oil, sweet orange oil, slightly herbaceous, maybe tarragon and green peppers. If you expect salt and look for it, you’ll find a touch, but it’s not obvious. The short-to-medium finish is sweet and a touch acidic, but vinous rather than vinegary, and drying.

The Dregs

This is quite a simple malt. It is remarkable in that it is so clean with only the lightest touch of cask here, very little of the experience draws you anywhere close to oak. Perhaps that’s obvious from the colour. After 12 years, and I’m not sure if the images betray how gloriously light it is but, it is pale, I’ll assume it’s all natural. I have to, there’s nothing on the bottle to tell me so. We have to hope it’s also non-chill filtered.

Look, this is good whisky. There are no faults here and I have very much enjoyed each glass I’ve poured. I won’t throw a low score just because of the huff I’ve shared above. The reason I haven’t scored it higher is that usually with a release of this provenance - and let’s be honest, price - you’d expect another layer; a flourish, a complexity or an interesting flash of something a little more attention grabbing, but in the end despite its lovely, light, waxy and delicious demeanour, it’s a little plain, a little straightforward.

Would I go out and buy this again? No, not even if a flash sale popped up lopping a chunk off. There are just too many other, far more interesting releases to tempt me to part with three figures of my hard-earned; new distilleries, independent bottlings and interesting takes and upgrades from other incumbent producers who are doing much better when it comes to integrity and faithfulness towards whisky and its customers. Inside and outside of the scotch realm. Today, there’s millions of it.

What a bottle like this needs, in order to stand out, is a creative agency to come up with a fancy back story and some attention grabbing…

Ah.

Score: 6/10

Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc

Other opinions on this:

WhiskyJason

Whiskybase

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