Have you joined the Bass club yet?

Could 2024’s hype beer, cask Bass, ever replace the traditional hazy, hoppy keg pale ales British drinkers have enjoyed for years?

Its fans, a small group of contrarian hipsters, seem to think so.

They share intelligence on the internet and trek to obscure out-of-town pubs to find it.

And they boast about drinking it on social media and in blog posts.

It seems to be as much about bragging rights as the quality of the beer itself because, let’s be honest, it’s hardly a mainstream product.

Listen to Bass enthusiasts talking about its foam, either too big or non-existent, and its “whiff of sulphur”. As in eggs. As in farts. Does that sound appealing to you?

You do wonder if Bass drinkers are trying to convince themselves they enjoy drinking it, purely for the sake of their credibility.

Oh, we can’t keep this up… The point is, a few days ago, in the footnotes post on Patreon accompanying our Saturday round-up, we wrote:

Jeff Alworth’s piece about Bass also has a good quote from Matthew Curtis: “It’s pretty easy to track down anyway, and I can only describe it tasting as how an English bitter tastes in the mind’s eye. I’m really into it at the moment.” Meanwhile, the number of outlets for Bass in Bristol continues to grow. The hype beer of 2025?

Then, on Saturday evening, we decided to take another look at The Crown, a Bristol pub long famous for its Bass, and which recently reopened.

When we ordered a round including a pint of cask Bass the person behind the bar raised an eyebrow and said, conspiratorially:

“Do you have a Bass Club loyalty card?”

When we said we didn’t we were directed to a display on the mantelpiece where we could read about the rules of the Bass Club and get a blank card.

“It’s our USP, really,” they said. “We sell more of it than any other beer.”

We found ourselves thinking of Tandleman’s frequent observation that cask relies on throughput to ensure its quality. 

This particular pint of Bass was as close to perfect as we’ve ever had – glowingly clear, reddish brown, with just a hint of Orval-like funkiness.

The great innovation here is that it is served with a head, in contravention of Bristol tradition, but very much in line with modern expectations of how a decent pint should look.

So we abandoned our plans to go to The Swan With Two Necks and stayed to fill a few more slots on the loyalty card.

Across the park, The Coach & Horses, under new management again, we’re told, has gained semi-permanent signage boasting of the availability of Bass.

And we’ve found it on at The Swan With Two Necks several times in the past couple of months. There too we’re told it sells well, especially to returning regulars from the pre-gentrification era.

In all seriousness, Bass does seem to sit in a sweet spot that could give it another moment in the sun.

First, there is something appealing about relatively rare beers – about hunting them down, or being in the know.

Secondly, it has a degree of complexity and variation that makes it interesting. Somehow, by accident or because someone who cares is involved in the process, it is still a high quality, characterful beer.

Thirdly, it has some of the same sense of being a forever-brand as Guinness. If you bumped into your great-grandma, somehow, these might be beers you would have in common.

And, finally, it has that feeling of being unpretentious.

Nobody will look at you drinking Bass and think you’re showing off, or lording over them with your superior palate and connoisseur’s palate.

Even if you know, secretly, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

How will we know if Bass is really becoming a hype beer?

We’ll be keeping our eyes open for people under 30 wearing Bass branded T-shirts, hats or badges.