Our good friend, Kristen, sent us through the mail and into our filthy hands, just in time for the new album. Her idea was that we'd brew these up during the week and half long session in the studio, providing warmth, energy and that shaky, puke-y feeling you get after too many cups. Her idea is welcome, and will be put to the test. Normally, Hollywood would lead you to believe that "life in the studio" is all sex, drugs and rock and roll. Turns out it's just coffee, mugs and your mouth hole.
"Raven's Brew," the centerpiece of Raven's Brew coffee, is the least of my favorite, but still very loved. The image on the front draws you to the idea that you're drinking ground up raven bones, with the spirit of the raven floating and soaring all up in you. You can do a lot of raven-y things with that information. Like fly great distances over this great land of ours or peck the shit out of someone's eyes.
I like this, because I would love it if a wolf in women's clothing served me coffee. The spookiness adds great charm, even if it's just a dumb Little Red Riding Hood themed packaging. Avoid Dumb LRRH, stare into the eyes of the wicked wolf. Look at the glowing moon. Enjoy.
This is my favorite. It's everything I need in advertising, which, apparently, is a sleepy skeleton in bed. Extra points for the description of "our famous high speed blend," making me think of doing jumps on a motorcycle or the quickness of which my bowels will blow up.
I feel it's a great and simple way to get the point across, too, mimicking nearly everyone's initial rise from slumber. The pained eyes, the gross mouth and the throbbing temples. On the worst mornings, I swear I might be dead, if only for that hibernation-shattering, split second. The only redeeming quality and any inspiration to get the fuck up is, of course, coffee. The smell, the taste, the instant shits. I am that skeleton. I'm looking into a mirror with this. This is the perfect blend of coffee. I've yet to taste any of these, but they're perfect. I just know it.