I have a sordid history of sorts with BA Stone IRS. In 2010 I was doing the BA top 100 for DDB and that god damn beer was festival only and I never leave the house so here we are. I once drove down to Escondido early Friday morning the night after Winterstorm to get some leftover BA IRS in 2011 at 11:01 a.m. That’s where my life has been at. It was gone. The HOSTESS LIED TO ME. Dr. Bill gave me a pour of the infinitely better Stonewall instead. I am too tired to contextualize that beer for newmoney homeless leveraging dumbfucks. Then in 2012 they released BA Stone IRS in bottles and I went full shitlord and hit every location and amassed like 6 with my muley cousin [this section is to make me seem relatable to give a redemption narrative] and then those bottles were infected. So I had to drive all the fucking way down to return them and explain how I had so many. 2012 was a hell of a drug. Then Blue Palms was supposed to have it on at their anniversary, so I show up and they changed it to 2006 Oatmeal stout or something equally shitty. By the time Mikhails finally came out, my nips were already rubbed so raw it didn’t give a fuck. I had already had Narke shit by that point. Then two months ago I met the pilot brewer backstage at a Silverstein show thanks to BILL and he sends me this prototype off the pilot system. An old espresso and coconut friend. So how is it? It is first and foremost a coffee forward beer with flawlessly integrated and present barrel character that tempers the acidity of the deep roast with a caramel ribbon tying it together. The alcohol is seamless like Aston Martin interiors, tautly constructed oak tannins and a cocoa meets butterscotch aspect. By now you can already see the issue: where the fuck is the coconut? The entire point of this beer is almost obviated when you realize that the purpose of the beer is wholly muted because the coconut is a light smattering of Startropics suntail oil dipping the sheet in chocolate milk, hitting people with yoyos. Its lipid in the mouthfeel and a slick swallow but it is hardly present anywhere else. It is still the world class beer that is Mikhails at the outset, but it feels like when you buy the Cayman R and all they did was remove the AC and all the amenities for the “special” edition. Ur like “thanks?” SO: it is exceptional, with the massive caveat that this is not some Hawaiian Tropic greased up waterpark adventure. You’re tucking your boner into the waistband for completely different bean driven reasons.