“Weller Antique 107 Review: The Vintage Bourbon You Have to Play, Not Just Display”

Weller Antique 107

Alright, so you’ve got this pristine Beatles Rubber Soul album. Mint. Gorgeous. The jacket alone is a work of art, and you know deep down it deserves to be displayed like the crown jewel it is. But here’s the rub: once you drop that needle, once you actually play it, you’re instantly taking value away. The collector world starts wincing. The price goes down, the pristine aura cracks a little. And yet—what’s the point of owning an album if you never spin it? If you never let the music pour out, filling the room with history, artistry, and pure soul?

That’s the dilemma of Weller Antique 107. On one hand, it’s a “collector’s” bottle now. Once a dusty that gathered cobwebs on the bottom shelf, today it’s hunted, hoarded, and flipped on secondary markets like it’s liquid gold. People pay stupid money for this red-label wheated bourbon just to have it sit there, untouched, so they can brag about their collection. But here’s the truth: Weller Antique 107 wasn’t made to be stared at. It wasn’t made to sit in the dark behind glass. It was made to be opened, poured, and enjoyed.

And enjoyed it is. At 107 proof, it comes alive in the glass—sweet wheat rounding off the edges, a backbone of caramel, vanilla, cherry, and oak that sings like McCartney on harmony. This bourbon doesn’t hide. It doesn’t whisper. It fills the room like dropping the needle on Norwegian Wood. There’s warmth, depth, and a touch of fire—but in a way that feels intentional, balanced, crafted. It’s not subtle, but it is soulful.

The irony? Buffalo Trace sells it for around $50 if you’re lucky enough to stumble upon it at MSRP. But you and I both know that never happens. Secondary markets turn a $50 bourbon into a $200, $300, even $400 trophy bottle. And the question becomes: are you displaying the jacket, or are you spinning the record?

For me, I’ll open it. I’ll pour it. I’ll share it. Because bourbon, like music, isn’t meant to sit quietly on a shelf. It’s meant to be lived with. Weller Antique 107 is proof—literally—that sometimes the “vintage” is too damn good not to play.