It was everywhere for a minute. Then it wasn't. If you’ve spent any time scouring the tap lists of North Jersey’s more adventurous bars or stalking the Instagram accounts of local bottle shops, you’ve likely bumped into the name. No Kings New Jersey wasn't just another brand on a crowded shelf. It represented a specific, slightly rebellious era of the Garden State's craft beer explosion. It’s the kind of thing that makes you miss the days when "collaboration" didn't just mean a corporate marketing gimmick, but actually meant two guys in a warehouse trying to see how much lupulin powder they could shove into a tank without it exploding.
New Jersey’s beer scene is weirdly tribal. You have the heavy hitters in South Jersey like Kane and Carton who basically set the gold standard, and then you have this gritty, experimental undercurrent in the northern half of the state. No Kings sat right in that friction point.
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What No Kings New Jersey Actually Was
Let’s be real. Most people think No Kings was a physical brewery with a tasting room and a flight of four-ounce pours. It wasn't.
Actually, No Kings New Jersey operated as a nomadic or "phantom" brewing project. This is a distinction that matters because it shaped exactly how the beer tasted and why it eventually became so hard to find. They didn't have their own stainless steel. Instead, they collaborated with established spots—most notably Departed Soles Brewing Co. in Jersey City.
The name itself was a bit of a middle finger. "No Kings" suggests a lack of hierarchy. No gatekeepers. Just the beer. This philosophy resonated during the late 2010s when the haze craze was peaking and people were tired of the "old guard" telling them what a proper West Coast IPA should look like. They wanted juice. They wanted high ABV. They wanted those colorful, matte-finish cans that looked more like street art than a beverage container.
The Jersey City Connection
Jersey City was the heartbeat of this project. If you walk down Bay Street toward Departed Soles, you can practically smell the mash tun. Brian Kulbacki and the team there provided the "host" environment where No Kings could experiment.
Collaborative brewing is harder than it looks. You're basically a guest in someone else’s kitchen, trying to use their stove to cook a meal you’ve never made before. For No Kings New Jersey, this meant leveraging the technical expertise of the host brewery while bringing in their own specific hop profiles and yeast strains. It’s why those early releases—like Castle Walls or The Crown is Heavy—had a distinct "New Jersey" profile: aggressive, slightly dank, and definitely not filtered.
Why the Hype Built So Fast
Scarcity. Honestly, that's the big secret.
When you don't have a permanent taproom, every drop you produce is a limited release. You aren't brewing 500 barrels of a flagship blonde ale just to keep the lights on. You're brewing small batches that go out to a handful of liquor stores in Hoboken, Jersey City, and maybe a few spots in Montclair.
Social media did the rest of the heavy lifting.
If you saw a post that a store in Union City just got three cases of No Kings, you got in your car. You didn't wait. That sense of "if you know, you know" is what defined the brand. It felt like a secret club, even though it was just fermented grain and water.
The Reality of the "Nomadic" Business Model
While it sounds romantic to be a brewing nomad, it’s a logistical nightmare. People often ask why brands like No Kings New Jersey don't just "stay forever."
Think about the margins.
When you brew your own beer in your own building, you keep the profit. When you brew at someone else's facility, you're paying for floor space, labor, utilities, and raw materials, and then you still have to sell it to a distributor or a retailer who takes their own cut. It's a hustle. It’s a 24/7 grind of driving kegs around in a van and hoping the glycol chiller doesn't fail at 3:00 AM.
There's also the "contract brewing" stigma. Some purists think if you don't own the dirt the brewery stands on, the beer isn't "real." That’s nonsense, obviously. Some of the best beers in the world (looking at you, early Mikkeller) were made this way. But in a state like New Jersey, where the liquor laws are famously archaic and punishing, not having your own license limits your growth. You can't sell merchandise easily. You can't host a "No Kings" festival. You are always a guest.
Breaking Down the Iconic Pours
If you were lucky enough to snag a 4-pack during their peak runs, you probably remember the specific "vibe" of the beer. They leaned heavily into the New England IPA (NEIPA) style.
- Castle Walls: This was a staple. It was hazy, sure, but it had this sharp citrus bite that prevented it from being too "orange juice-ish."
- The Crown is Heavy: A Double IPA that didn't hide its strength. It was the kind of beer that reminded you why Jersey beer is different from the softer stuff coming out of Vermont or Maine. It was louder.
They also played with sours and stouts, but the IPAs were the bread and butter. The label art was always a highlight—minimalist, bold colors, and that "No Kings" typography that felt like it belonged on a skateboard deck.
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The State of New Jersey Craft Beer Today
Where does this leave us in 2026? The landscape has shifted.
The "hype" era of 2017-2022 has cooled into a more sustainable, if slightly more corporate, industry. Many of the small-scale projects that defined the "No Kings" era have either scaled up into massive production facilities (like Ghost Hawk or Magnify) or they’ve quietly faded away as the founders moved on to other projects.
But the influence of No Kings New Jersey is still there. You see it in the way newer Jersey City startups approach their branding. You see it in the continued success of Departed Soles, which proved that being a hub for collaboration is a viable way to support the local ecosystem.
Why You Can't Find It Easily Anymore
Brands like this often go on hiatus. In the craft world, "retired" rarely means "dead." It usually means the brewers are focusing on other labels, or they're waiting for the right moment to relaunch when the market isn't so saturated with 10% ABV triple IPAs.
Also, let’s be blunt: the New Jersey Division of Alcoholic Beverage Control (ABC) makes it incredibly difficult for small players to survive. The recent years have seen massive legal battles over what taprooms can and cannot do—hosting trivia, having food trucks, or even showing a football game on TV. For a nomadic brand, these hurdles are even higher because they don't have a home base to fight from.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Project
The biggest misconception is that No Kings was "just a label" for someone else’s beer.
It wasn't.
There's a massive difference between private labeling (where a grocery store puts its name on a generic beer) and a nomadic collaboration. The No Kings team brought their own recipes. They sourced their own hops—often specific lots of Citra or Mosaic that they’d hand-selected. They were in the brewhouse, getting dirty, making sure the fermentation temps were exactly where they wanted them.
It was a labor of love that unfortunately hit the ceiling of what a nomadic brand can do in a state with Jersey's regulatory hurdles.
How to Find Similar Vibes in NJ Today
If you’re hunting for that No Kings energy, you have to look for the "underground" spots.
- Jersey City: Start at Departed Soles. They are the spiritual godfathers of this movement.
- Hackensack: Check out The Alementary or Hackensack Brewing. They carry that same "community first" grit.
- Bottle Shops: Places like Buy Rite in Fairview or Linwood Hudson Lights in Fort Lee usually have the "insider" knowledge on who is brewing what and where.
The "No Kings" spirit isn't about one specific can of beer. It’s about the idea that you don't need a multi-million dollar facility to make something that people will stand in line for. You just need a good palate, a solid recipe, and the willingness to work with your neighbors.
Practical Steps for the NJ Beer Hunter
If you're still looking for those rare drops or trying to track down what the former No Kings crew is up to, here is how you actually do it.
- Follow the Brewers, Not Just the Brand: In this industry, talent moves. Follow the head brewers of your favorite defunct brands on LinkedIn or Instagram. They usually announce their new projects there first.
- Check "Collaborations" on Untappd: Use the search function to look for "Collaboration" in the New Jersey region. This is how you find the new "nomadic" projects before they hit the mainstream.
- Support Local Taprooms Directly: The best way to ensure another "No Kings" can exist is to make sure the host breweries stay profitable. Buy a pour, grab a sticker, and tip your beertender.
- Watch the Distribution Hubs: Often, when a project like this "ends," there are remaining kegs or cans that pop up at specific craft-centric bars. Keep an eye on the tap lists at places like The Shepherd & the Knucklehead or Cloverleaf Tavern.
No Kings New Jersey was a moment in time. It was a snapshot of a state finding its identity in the craft beer world—moving away from the "big beer" shadow of Newark and into something far more interesting and independent. Whether it returns in full force or remains a cult legend discussed over a pint of something else, its impact on the North Jersey beer scene is undeniable. It proved that in the Garden State, you don't need a crown to be a local legend. You just need some good hops and a lot of hustle.