"Maybe Not Racked” by Syrah Mix-A-Lot

“Maybe Not Racked” ((Anaerobic élevage is not an obvious subject matter for a rap video, but if you are doing parody, you generally remain a bit constrained by your material. In fact, the lyrics would work a whole lot better if the piece were intended as a paean to big, pHat wines. One might then be able to take the piss out of the poncy, cerebral followers of “natural” or “mineral”-intensive wines (such as myself). Certainly, the video (if it ever gets made) would enjoy a much wider, possibly viral audience and along the way, its self-parodic nature would be obscured. (I think I’ll now go soak my head.) In the piece, I profess a certain admiration for “da funk,” but in fact, this doesn’t accurately reflect my view. I love the earthiness and slight reductive aspect that comes from proper élevage, but I am, in fact, not at all doon with microbial funk.)) by Syrah Mix-A-Lot


I like big butts ((A “butt” is an alternate, but proper description of a five hundred liter barrel)) and I cannot lie

You other winemakers can’t deny

That when you taste great wine like the “Hill of Grace” ((It’s the shi(ra)z (from Stephen Henschke), and also known to possess a non-trivial amount of funk))

And a lot of funked-up esters in your face you get sprung


I’m talking about juice that got da funk

Not the spoofulated shizzle that gets you crunk

Talking anaerobic élevage, ((Anaerobic élevage (or cellaring) is one of the several differentiating winemaking practices between Old World and New. Anaerobic élevage, which generally signifies the retention of lees and minimal racking, (especially in the winter after vintage), allows the wine to develop some extremely interesting earthy/meaty/animal aspects (sometimes confounded with the presence of brettanomyces), though presence of lees can itself act as a nutrient source for microbial contamination)) yo

With some sick cépages, yo, ain’t no mirage, bro

(The truffe will set you free.)


Oh, what am I gonna serve wit’cha?

Some baby-got-back-ribs, pretty as a Bon Appétit picture

My homeboy Marvin, tried to warn me in the Specta-ta

But that 500 liter butt you got – I got to investigate her



Ooh, Horse-rumpo blanket, you ridin’ bareback

Sippin’ on a ‘45 Latour or some other nasty Pauillac ((Vintages of Ch. Latour, especially during the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s have had quite a frequent incidence of Brettanomyces. I am given to understand (not having tasted the wines) that the chateau has cleaned things up a bit.))

Well excuse me, excuse me,

I aint no point-score groupie


The palate impression is really dancin’

To hell with sip and swirl romancin’

It’s got dat funky saddle-sweat, ((Most likely 4-ethyl phenol)) yeah, wet

Da microbe dat dare not speak its name: (Brett)


I’m tired of those wine magazines

Saying that big fruit and Def Jamminess is the thang

Take the average wine geek and ask him that

If his main juice squeeze is a fruit bomb tease – soft and pHat ((Wines higher in pH (pushing 4) are generally just asking for microbial infection.))


So Wine Geeks

(Yeah!)

Wine Geeks

(Yeah!)

Has your vino got the funk?

(Hell yeah!)

Tell ‘em to aerate it!

(Aerate it!)

Aerate it!

(Aerate it!)

Aerate that funky butt!

Maybe get racked!

Frenchy face in a New World bouteille.

Maybe get racked!



Frenchy face in a New World bouteille.

Frenchy face in a New World bouteille.


I like ‘em dusty and not too big

And when I’m throwin’ doon at a winemaker dinner gig

I just can’t help myself, I like the scent of animal

Now, (pay-atches), ((A bit pathetic to footnote a (reasonably clever) joke, but in French, pH is pronounced “pay- asch.”)) here’s my scandal


I wanna drink you at home

In UH, a double-mag UH UH!

I ain’t talkin’ bout 95 point wines

‘cause you open them up and next day they’re in steep decline, ((There is an old adage that wines will either ripen on the vine or in the bottle, but it is certain that wines made from exceptionally ripe grapes have much foreshortened life-spans. This is likely a result of the tannin-anthocyanin complex continuing to polymerize, with the wine’s “fruit” essentially drying up.))

Talking DOA, a perfect flat-line

I don’t want ‘em extra thick and juicy

Like a raspberry milkshake or worse a double

Syrah Mix-A-Lot’s in trouble

When it’s so funked up it begins to bubble


So I’m lookin’ at Nicolas Joly in a Bio-D video

No herbicide, baby, kill them weeds with hoes

You can keep them fancy chateaux

I’ll stick with funk-master, Jacques Reynaud ((Jacques Reynaud was the late proprietor of Ch. Rayas, known equally for the utter funkiness of his cellar and the sublimity of his wines.))

(He was kicking some Ray-ass)


Now a word on thick, overripe mixtures; I just can’t seem to get wit’cha

Just can’t drink ya, I gotta spit ya’

But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna UH!

Sip on that fancy space- juice ‘til the break of Doon!



Yeah, that wine’s really got it goin’ on

And forgive the commercial message in this song

‘Cause some critics like to hit it and then quit it

Don’t know if this Ci-gare is on anyone’s radar

(It ain’t from around here.)

So wine-man!

(Yeah!)

Wine-man!

(Yeah!)

If you can tolerate a little mercaptan

(Yeah!)

Then splash it ‘round! Swirl it ‘round!

And a clear tone you will perceive

Even white wines got to breathe ((Most especially white wines that have not been filtered, eg. Le Cigare Blanc Réserve.))

Maybe get racked!

Maybe get racked!


Yeah baby, when it comes to a final arbitrator

It ain’t gonna be the Wine Speculator

Or even Tanzer or the even fancier

Burghound – Dawg, you gots to throw me a Beaune,

Cause I want my wine waiter to be a wine-lover not a wine-hater. ((Sohm, the somm, got (some) game, y’all.))

90 plus point wines? Ha, ha, only if they’re vintage ‘59


So your young Wall St. trader is rolling with the Spectator

And he’s jonesin’ for Screaming Eagle

But the Baby Gangsta is barely legal

And his point spread is more spread-eagle

(He is assuming the position; for that price he could buy La Mission.)

Y’all doon with that?

Spare me new barriques, I prefer old redwood vat


And them yeasties, I prefer them indigenous

As would B.I.G.G.I.E, he was doonright bigamous

I got nothing ‘gainst Saccharomyces

‘Cept without the funk there ain’t no exotic spices.

That little bitta brett can be seen as a threat

But be open to a little nastiness: Get yourself a new mind-set


So the press say your wine gotta be pHat

And loaded with primary fruit; what’s wrong with dat?

‘Cause you’re not just sippin’, your slidin’ in a meal, yo

And you want it to work with the whole damn deal-io


To the spoofulated higher scorers: you ain’t nowheres

You ain’t got that, Mme. Osmose-inverse ((Miss Reverse Osmosis))

Give me a vin de terroir for a nice long pour

Cassoulet and foie gras – soulfood for the bourgeois


Some knucklehead tried to dis

These funked-up wines, bump ‘em from his list

He brought in a toothless pinot grigio by the glass

Maybe I bust a (screw)cap in his Ass-mannshausen

So, pour ‘em

(Pour ‘em!)

Ain’t no need to score ‘em

Just take a moment to explore ‘em

And if it got da funk you might adore ‘em


If you’ve heard this tune & gonna crack one soon

And you wanna triple X throw-doon

Dial 1-8-0-0-RHONE-RANGER

And kick them nasty thoughts of the Rhône Estranger

Maybe got racked!

Maybe got racked!



Funky nose that blows off but she got a good rack

Funky nose that blows off but she got a good rack

Funky nose that blows off but she got a good rack

Funky nose that blows off but she got a good rack