After all, for every beach cleanup Liquid Death hosts, it also brings its members together for some batshit pop-up that has nothing to do with water or sustainability. When you think about how much trouble climate experts have in educating the masses, let alone convincing them to make minor changes in their everyday behavior, perhaps it was time for a sustainably distributed water that inspires cultish brand loyalty. While getting aluminum in the first place takes some doing - you need heavy machinery to mine it from the ground, and restoring land afterwards isn’t easy - it is infinitely recyclable, like glass. The brand’s official motto is actually “death to plastic.” The site notes that “Of all the aluminum produced since 1888, over 75 percent of it is still in current use.” This is actually true. Liquid Death doesn’t just want to “murder your thirst,” apparently.

Over time, many report respiratory complications from exposure to plastic’s toxic fumes, which, The Guardian notes: “ from the burning of plastics or plastic processing.”

Some of it is purposely put on freight ships and brought to the world’s poorest nations, where locals sort scrap for a pittance. We’ve already been over about how important it is that you kick your plastic bottle habit, assuming it still exists. It reported $45 million in revenue last year, and just closed with $75 million in Series C funding this month. The company officially launched in 2019, and is already valued at $525 million. In the About section on Liquid Death’s website, they sum up all the shenanigans with a succinct manifesto: “We’re just a funny water company who hates corporate marketing as much as you do.” That mission has been wildly successful thus far - Liquid Death has inspired a cult of drinkers eager to be in the band, and made a pretty penny along the way. Oh, and at one point, Liquid Death sold red-painted skateboard decks infused with Tony Hawk’s blood. The brand also sells a vending machine called the “Death Dispenser” for $5,800. They then released them as lyrics a rock album called the Greatest Hates, which you stream on Spotify or buy on vinyl. When the brand was first founded, and the internet shat all over the concept, Liquid Death dutifully catalogued all of the most creative burns. The contract is binding for all eternity. Entry to the “Liquid Death Country Club” involves the simple act of selling your soul. The brand makes animated videos where a Liquid Death-headed monster goes around killing people with an axe. It was water.Īnd what, indeed, does water have to do with tattoo parlors, or skate shops, or a unsanctioned road race? Not much, necessarily - but when packaged as Liquid Death, everything. Eventually, I managed to inspect the cans, which led me back to the source - a 12-pack of something called Liquid Death. It looked like a tall boy of Modelo, the sort you’d pick up before getting on the train. What? I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. That said, I was a little surprised when one of them opened a beer early in the caravan. It was a group of cool people who are used to doing cool things, we can leave it at that, and none of them were particularly surprised to find themselves suddenly relay-racing through Death Valley.

There was a freelance copywriter who leads yoga retreats in Wyoming a former model who’s been on the cover of Elle the son of rock legend Alex Van Halen. Over Memorial Day weekend of last year I ran from Los Angeles to Las Vegas in less than two days with a coterie of rebel influencers.

Death sparkling water