I’m sure by now we’ve all heard the name. Spoken in hushed whispers from shadowy corners of dingy bars, followed by the scratch of a record and a rumble of thunder from outside. A name shrouded in mystique and intrigue, cloaking its true intent and sending ripples of fear through the dark halls and boardrooms of bottled water giants.
The topic of today’s investigation is, of course, none other than Liquid Death. Self-proclaimed murderer of thirst, maker of jokes and sworn enemy of plastic.
Like any decent murder investigation, we must start with the obvious. Who are Liquid Death? Not ones to hide from the limelight, their image has been dominating the packaged water space since they started in 2017. And it’s partly thanks to this guy, Mike Cessario. Former Netflix creative director, canned drink enthusiast and proprietor of Liquid Death.
Their first public appearance was an unusual one, with the initial online release being of a 3D rendering of a can before they had even created a product. In their own words, they’re “just a funny beverage company who hates corporate marketing as much as you do”. Yes, don’t worry your honour, I agree. A likely story. This irony sets the stage for their own brand of very on-the-nose humour, paving the way for quirky campaigns and unique merchandise alike.
By their own admission, their “evil mission is to make people laugh and get them to drink more water more often, all the while helping to kill plastic pollution”. At last! A packaged water company hell-bent on solving the packaging crisis! Nice try, buster. But all in good time, we’ll dissect these alibis later.
Any known accomplices? Yes, your honour, plenty. Liquid Death work with a wide roster of celebrities, collaborating on a range of bizarre products with the sole purpose (outside of making money, obviously) of contributing to their self-aware comedy output and strengthening their brand identity.
Liquid Death’s brand partnerships range from Martha Stewart’s severed hand candle, to Wiz Khalifa’s bong water, to skateboards infused with Tony Hawk’s blood. The cherry on top, however, has to be Travis Barker’s ‘enema of the state’. How many water brands can say they take bodily cleanliness so seriously? Jokes aside, all of these are bizarre, funny and pretty damn clever.
Each collab reaches into another pocket of culture, drawing people in through a joyful pairing of absurdist humour and intrigue. All the while building on their brand identity as being the super crazy wild unpredictable sort; one hand checking the pulse of pop culture and the other on a syringe, sporadically injecting doses of their weird-fun formula into the market.
As I’ve said, these collabs and products work towards strengthening brand identity. But they also work in a cleverer way than that, making their audience feel like they get it. The identity Liquid Death has built is one of subversive counter-cultural obscurity and anti-corporate humour, so by producing this sort of weird merch they seek to distinguish themselves from their very essence (being corporate) and appeal to their audience’s countercultural anti-corporate ideals.
Of course, the irony is that neither party is engaging in the anarchistic activity they think, or are pretending to think they are. Liquid Death engages in this chameleon marketing, whilst their fans buy buy buy, thinking they’re sticking two fingers to the man whilst still lining corporate pockets. After all, nothing says punk rock more than Austrian water shipped to America with the world’s most polluting courier. It’s a funny joke and Liquid Death keep making it, whether their customers are getting it, or not.
Liquid Death says they’re marketed at people who hate marketing - but in a way that makes marketers froth at the mouth with ravenous excitement. This ironic self-awareness is worth a few laughs, which is good because it’s a recurring joke throughout their marketing.
Although Cessario says the drink is for anyone, it’s clear that the marketing heavily leans towards a few particular social groups. Namely punks, metalheads, straight-edge people and similar countercultural communities. There’s also an obvious appeal to younger generations, in particular young men with enough disposable income to buy similarly priced beverages - these puppies do not come cheap.
The draw for straight-edge people is simple. Liquid Death’s cans diminish the stigma of not drinking at gigs, with both their physical form and gothic font acting as a signifier of being ‘hard’. The aim is to differ from traditional packaged water companies, which Cessario claims market towards ‘whole foods yoga moms’.
Jeff Slater at the Marketing Sage succinctly described how Liquid Death addressed a previously ‘unaddressed target audience’, hitting the nail on the head. This understanding of their audience is integral to Liquid Death’s strategy and their commitment to appealing to their humour is abundantly clear throughout their ads.
I suppose the big question is an obvious one. Why are they so popular? Well your honour, may I approach the bench?
There’s tonnes of packaged water being sold online, it’s nothing new. So what do they do to stand out? Provide a boatload of value; films, videos and merchandise. All lathered in comedic horror, metal music appeal and countercultural references. Providing something alongside their product to sweeten the deal, making people feel like they’re buying into something greater than mere water. An idea, a lifestyle, an outlook on life.
Either way, Liquid Death’s self-perpetuated aura of angsty rebellion helps its audience know they’re better than those other, less cool, less aware water drinkers. There’s a lot to process in their ads, and this aesthetic playfulness is perhaps their greatest appeal. Distinguishing them from their competitors in a way that few have done before.
A lot of their video ads are reminiscent of old horror flicks, adopting heavily stylised angles, lenses and tropes that entertain more than inform. These entertaining cultural references saturate their marketing, so much so that you could be forgiven for forgetting you’re watching an advert for water. Imagine Evian recreating a scene from The Exorcist… It just wouldn’t happen. And yet, Liquid Death is making it happen.
Throughout their ads, themes of innocence and niceness are juxtaposed with gothic fonts, heavy metal and violence. This comes off as light-hearted value-led entertainment whilst also assuring you of their cultural grasp and sense of humour. A USP that is cemented with the playful juxtaposition between health and death posed by “murder your thirst”. These recurring themes are not just funny, but memorably funny.
It’s through these fun, extremely on-the-nose ads that Liquid Death distinguish themselves from any other packaged water business. Manifesting this ‘anti-marketing’ marketing I mentioned earlier. These jokes recur throughout their content output, succeeding in providing a few laughs along the way whilst successfully making their target audience feel like they’re above the marketing they’re poking fun at. Whether or not the audience understands the irony remains uncertain, but neither party seems to be tiring of it anytime soon.
Alongside this running joke is their anti-plastic rhetoric, which I’ll get into more shortly. This is primarily equipped as a USP to distinguish them from their bottled water nemeses, opening up a big ol’ can of juicy worms. Much to think about, but all in good time.
Liquid Death’s forte is their video content, ranging from short adverts to near feature-length films. And let the record state, they are killing it. The film in question, Dead Til Death, harks back to 90’s slasher films and is chock full of enjoyably on-the-nose horror cliches. The plot is centred around cans of Liquid Death slaughtering litter-dropping campers: as you’d expect it’s as campy and ridiculous as any B-movie can aspire to be. It’s fun, silly and effective.
The film discusses how recycling plastic isn’t economically viable and how less than 10% actually gets recycled. Explaining how companies often resort to shipping it to other countries, who themselves are often overwhelmed which results in it being dumped in a landfill and ending up in the ocean. All of which is true. This is the real horror of Dead Til Death and it’s refreshing to see it in an advert.
There’s also a bit more of their anti-marketing marketing, which is good fun. One character proclaims that ‘advertising is a disgusting industry full of vapid assholes who only want to make a buck by promoting products that destroy the environment’. Though good-humoured, it’s hard to tell if Liquid Death considers its own environmental impact, or just other companies’. Either way, this medium-rare commentary is further refreshment, and whether we’re laughing at them or with them it certainly gets people talking.
Another of Liquid Death’s specialities is the not-to-be-taken-seriously mockumentary style ads. These can be summarised very simply; they know that we know it’s daft. It's designed to fan your ego and make you feel like you’re seeing through it, as though you’re in the superior minority who get it. Its effectiveness is abundantly clear from Liquid Death’s valuation, whatever you may think of it.
Some aren’t as fond though, the fast company observes how ‘we are getting dangerously close to being oversaturated with self-aware advertising’. And although I enjoy Liquid Death’s highly stylised take on the form, I’m inclined to agree. There are plenty of people doing it, Liquid Death is just doing it better than most.
Excuse me, your honour. All this talk of culture is making me thirsty. But let’s not lose our way, we still have plenty to get through before the trial is out.
In all murder inquiries, we must consider the motive. Money, obviously. And lots of it! But is there something more? Are they the paladins of ethical purity they claim to be? Well, like any decent detective, I delved deeper. Leaving no crumpled can unturned in my search for the truth of this mystery.
The great unintentional irony is that they now ship via Amazon, a company so overwhelmingly renowned for its plastic waste that it seems like it could be another level to Liquid Death’s humour. Sadly, however, it isn’t. Sure, their statement that using one courier is better for the environment is undeniably valid. However, given that Amazon is globally renowned for being the antithesis of eco-friendly, it appears that their choice of courier is more likely a matter of money over morality. After all, telling people to be nice to each other while your friend, the bully, is bludgeoning someone elsewhere, is farcical.
Liquid Death could argue their partnership is a small sacrifice for increased distribution (in terms of product and message alike), but that isn’t very convincing. Can working with the people whose actions you claim to morally oppose be ethical if it helps spread your message? Would people agree with Greenpeace more if they advertised in The Sun? Potentially. Would that go against their ideology and perpetuate the issue they’re fighting? Obviously, yes.
This bizarre choice is so inconsistent with Liquid Death’s anti-plastic rhetoric, it suggests the facade was simply a case of run-of-the-mill greenwashing all along. Never amounting to anything more than a very shiny but hollow USP. Either that or it would seem they have sold out their ethos in favour of wider distribution and greater profit. The jury can be the judge of that. That said, their financial success indicates that their target audience doesn’t seem to mind, or perhaps even realise. Oscar Wilde once joked “style before substance”, something that Liquid Death have mastered.
Despite this gap in their armour, Liquid Death recently landed on British shores. The next step in their conquest? World domination? We will have to wait and see. Their meticulous strategy is evidence of just how important it is to know your target market inside out, and how unwavering commitment to your brand identity truly pays off.
It seems glaringly obvious that their exaggerated of environmental concern was exploited and anti-plastic for marketing purposes, rather than being corrupted by greed. Nonetheless, any pretence that they’re an eco-brand now seems as comically absurd as their ads do. But maybe that’s the point.
All evidence considered, your honour, it would seem that the environment was merely an innocent bystander, killed during the aforementioned murder of the thirst. A tragic and regrettable case of manslaughter? Or a premeditated calculation? Judgement rests in your hands, as always.
If you run an e-commerce brand and need help with your marketing strategy - book a free call with Joe or Freddie today to learn more about how we can help you today!
The rich text element allows you to create and format headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, images, and video all in one place instead of having to add and format them individually. Just double-click and easily create content.
A rich text element can be used with static or dynamic content. For static content, just drop it into any page and begin editing. For dynamic content, add a rich text field to any collection and then connect a rich text element to that field in the settings panel. Voila!
Headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, figures, images, and figure captions can all be styled after a class is added to the rich text element using the "When inside of" nested selector system.
I’m sure by now we’ve all heard the name. Spoken in hushed whispers from shadowy corners of dingy bars, followed by the scratch of a record and a rumble of thunder from outside. A name shrouded in mystique and intrigue, cloaking its true intent and sending ripples of fear through the dark halls and boardrooms of bottled water giants.
The topic of today’s investigation is, of course, none other than Liquid Death. Self-proclaimed murderer of thirst, maker of jokes and sworn enemy of plastic.
Like any decent murder investigation, we must start with the obvious. Who are Liquid Death? Not ones to hide from the limelight, their image has been dominating the packaged water space since they started in 2017. And it’s partly thanks to this guy, Mike Cessario. Former Netflix creative director, canned drink enthusiast and proprietor of Liquid Death.
Their first public appearance was an unusual one, with the initial online release being of a 3D rendering of a can before they had even created a product. In their own words, they’re “just a funny beverage company who hates corporate marketing as much as you do”. Yes, don’t worry your honour, I agree. A likely story. This irony sets the stage for their own brand of very on-the-nose humour, paving the way for quirky campaigns and unique merchandise alike.
By their own admission, their “evil mission is to make people laugh and get them to drink more water more often, all the while helping to kill plastic pollution”. At last! A packaged water company hell-bent on solving the packaging crisis! Nice try, buster. But all in good time, we’ll dissect these alibis later.
Any known accomplices? Yes, your honour, plenty. Liquid Death work with a wide roster of celebrities, collaborating on a range of bizarre products with the sole purpose (outside of making money, obviously) of contributing to their self-aware comedy output and strengthening their brand identity.
Liquid Death’s brand partnerships range from Martha Stewart’s severed hand candle, to Wiz Khalifa’s bong water, to skateboards infused with Tony Hawk’s blood. The cherry on top, however, has to be Travis Barker’s ‘enema of the state’. How many water brands can say they take bodily cleanliness so seriously? Jokes aside, all of these are bizarre, funny and pretty damn clever.
Each collab reaches into another pocket of culture, drawing people in through a joyful pairing of absurdist humour and intrigue. All the while building on their brand identity as being the super crazy wild unpredictable sort; one hand checking the pulse of pop culture and the other on a syringe, sporadically injecting doses of their weird-fun formula into the market.
As I’ve said, these collabs and products work towards strengthening brand identity. But they also work in a cleverer way than that, making their audience feel like they get it. The identity Liquid Death has built is one of subversive counter-cultural obscurity and anti-corporate humour, so by producing this sort of weird merch they seek to distinguish themselves from their very essence (being corporate) and appeal to their audience’s countercultural anti-corporate ideals.
Of course, the irony is that neither party is engaging in the anarchistic activity they think, or are pretending to think they are. Liquid Death engages in this chameleon marketing, whilst their fans buy buy buy, thinking they’re sticking two fingers to the man whilst still lining corporate pockets. After all, nothing says punk rock more than Austrian water shipped to America with the world’s most polluting courier. It’s a funny joke and Liquid Death keep making it, whether their customers are getting it, or not.
Liquid Death says they’re marketed at people who hate marketing - but in a way that makes marketers froth at the mouth with ravenous excitement. This ironic self-awareness is worth a few laughs, which is good because it’s a recurring joke throughout their marketing.
Although Cessario says the drink is for anyone, it’s clear that the marketing heavily leans towards a few particular social groups. Namely punks, metalheads, straight-edge people and similar countercultural communities. There’s also an obvious appeal to younger generations, in particular young men with enough disposable income to buy similarly priced beverages - these puppies do not come cheap.
The draw for straight-edge people is simple. Liquid Death’s cans diminish the stigma of not drinking at gigs, with both their physical form and gothic font acting as a signifier of being ‘hard’. The aim is to differ from traditional packaged water companies, which Cessario claims market towards ‘whole foods yoga moms’.
Jeff Slater at the Marketing Sage succinctly described how Liquid Death addressed a previously ‘unaddressed target audience’, hitting the nail on the head. This understanding of their audience is integral to Liquid Death’s strategy and their commitment to appealing to their humour is abundantly clear throughout their ads.
I suppose the big question is an obvious one. Why are they so popular? Well your honour, may I approach the bench?
There’s tonnes of packaged water being sold online, it’s nothing new. So what do they do to stand out? Provide a boatload of value; films, videos and merchandise. All lathered in comedic horror, metal music appeal and countercultural references. Providing something alongside their product to sweeten the deal, making people feel like they’re buying into something greater than mere water. An idea, a lifestyle, an outlook on life.
Either way, Liquid Death’s self-perpetuated aura of angsty rebellion helps its audience know they’re better than those other, less cool, less aware water drinkers. There’s a lot to process in their ads, and this aesthetic playfulness is perhaps their greatest appeal. Distinguishing them from their competitors in a way that few have done before.
A lot of their video ads are reminiscent of old horror flicks, adopting heavily stylised angles, lenses and tropes that entertain more than inform. These entertaining cultural references saturate their marketing, so much so that you could be forgiven for forgetting you’re watching an advert for water. Imagine Evian recreating a scene from The Exorcist… It just wouldn’t happen. And yet, Liquid Death is making it happen.
Throughout their ads, themes of innocence and niceness are juxtaposed with gothic fonts, heavy metal and violence. This comes off as light-hearted value-led entertainment whilst also assuring you of their cultural grasp and sense of humour. A USP that is cemented with the playful juxtaposition between health and death posed by “murder your thirst”. These recurring themes are not just funny, but memorably funny.
It’s through these fun, extremely on-the-nose ads that Liquid Death distinguish themselves from any other packaged water business. Manifesting this ‘anti-marketing’ marketing I mentioned earlier. These jokes recur throughout their content output, succeeding in providing a few laughs along the way whilst successfully making their target audience feel like they’re above the marketing they’re poking fun at. Whether or not the audience understands the irony remains uncertain, but neither party seems to be tiring of it anytime soon.
Alongside this running joke is their anti-plastic rhetoric, which I’ll get into more shortly. This is primarily equipped as a USP to distinguish them from their bottled water nemeses, opening up a big ol’ can of juicy worms. Much to think about, but all in good time.
Liquid Death’s forte is their video content, ranging from short adverts to near feature-length films. And let the record state, they are killing it. The film in question, Dead Til Death, harks back to 90’s slasher films and is chock full of enjoyably on-the-nose horror cliches. The plot is centred around cans of Liquid Death slaughtering litter-dropping campers: as you’d expect it’s as campy and ridiculous as any B-movie can aspire to be. It’s fun, silly and effective.
The film discusses how recycling plastic isn’t economically viable and how less than 10% actually gets recycled. Explaining how companies often resort to shipping it to other countries, who themselves are often overwhelmed which results in it being dumped in a landfill and ending up in the ocean. All of which is true. This is the real horror of Dead Til Death and it’s refreshing to see it in an advert.
There’s also a bit more of their anti-marketing marketing, which is good fun. One character proclaims that ‘advertising is a disgusting industry full of vapid assholes who only want to make a buck by promoting products that destroy the environment’. Though good-humoured, it’s hard to tell if Liquid Death considers its own environmental impact, or just other companies’. Either way, this medium-rare commentary is further refreshment, and whether we’re laughing at them or with them it certainly gets people talking.
Another of Liquid Death’s specialities is the not-to-be-taken-seriously mockumentary style ads. These can be summarised very simply; they know that we know it’s daft. It's designed to fan your ego and make you feel like you’re seeing through it, as though you’re in the superior minority who get it. Its effectiveness is abundantly clear from Liquid Death’s valuation, whatever you may think of it.
Some aren’t as fond though, the fast company observes how ‘we are getting dangerously close to being oversaturated with self-aware advertising’. And although I enjoy Liquid Death’s highly stylised take on the form, I’m inclined to agree. There are plenty of people doing it, Liquid Death is just doing it better than most.
Excuse me, your honour. All this talk of culture is making me thirsty. But let’s not lose our way, we still have plenty to get through before the trial is out.
In all murder inquiries, we must consider the motive. Money, obviously. And lots of it! But is there something more? Are they the paladins of ethical purity they claim to be? Well, like any decent detective, I delved deeper. Leaving no crumpled can unturned in my search for the truth of this mystery.
The great unintentional irony is that they now ship via Amazon, a company so overwhelmingly renowned for its plastic waste that it seems like it could be another level to Liquid Death’s humour. Sadly, however, it isn’t. Sure, their statement that using one courier is better for the environment is undeniably valid. However, given that Amazon is globally renowned for being the antithesis of eco-friendly, it appears that their choice of courier is more likely a matter of money over morality. After all, telling people to be nice to each other while your friend, the bully, is bludgeoning someone elsewhere, is farcical.
Liquid Death could argue their partnership is a small sacrifice for increased distribution (in terms of product and message alike), but that isn’t very convincing. Can working with the people whose actions you claim to morally oppose be ethical if it helps spread your message? Would people agree with Greenpeace more if they advertised in The Sun? Potentially. Would that go against their ideology and perpetuate the issue they’re fighting? Obviously, yes.
This bizarre choice is so inconsistent with Liquid Death’s anti-plastic rhetoric, it suggests the facade was simply a case of run-of-the-mill greenwashing all along. Never amounting to anything more than a very shiny but hollow USP. Either that or it would seem they have sold out their ethos in favour of wider distribution and greater profit. The jury can be the judge of that. That said, their financial success indicates that their target audience doesn’t seem to mind, or perhaps even realise. Oscar Wilde once joked “style before substance”, something that Liquid Death have mastered.
Despite this gap in their armour, Liquid Death recently landed on British shores. The next step in their conquest? World domination? We will have to wait and see. Their meticulous strategy is evidence of just how important it is to know your target market inside out, and how unwavering commitment to your brand identity truly pays off.
It seems glaringly obvious that their exaggerated of environmental concern was exploited and anti-plastic for marketing purposes, rather than being corrupted by greed. Nonetheless, any pretence that they’re an eco-brand now seems as comically absurd as their ads do. But maybe that’s the point.
All evidence considered, your honour, it would seem that the environment was merely an innocent bystander, killed during the aforementioned murder of the thirst. A tragic and regrettable case of manslaughter? Or a premeditated calculation? Judgement rests in your hands, as always.
If you run an e-commerce brand and need help with your marketing strategy - book a free call with Joe or Freddie today to learn more about how we can help you today!
The rich text element allows you to create and format headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, images, and video all in one place instead of having to add and format them individually. Just double-click and easily create content.
A rich text element can be used with static or dynamic content. For static content, just drop it into any page and begin editing. For dynamic content, add a rich text field to any collection and then connect a rich text element to that field in the settings panel. Voila!
Headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, figures, images, and figure captions can all be styled after a class is added to the rich text element using the "When inside of" nested selector system.