The End of the World definitely starts with a bang.
Opens noisy, an explosion of salt and pepper popcorn that leaves one thirsty, then the minerals seep in, metal smoke and charred woods, and concrete rubble. The fallout stays dominant on clothing, but after an hour or two flowers grow on the skin, powdery with a bit of ash, soft and strange.
Weirdly violent, in a post-apocalyptic movie way, and hopefully not prophetic.
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This is easily the best song on Achtung Baby.
Did anyone else mutter, “Fear is the mind killer…” as they opened their little white package?
I was rather excited when Etat Libre d’Orange announced their obvious hat tip to Frank Herbert’s DUNE novels. The classic series revolves around the politics of a psychotropic spice which fuels all interplanetary commerce.
Melange is described as a glowing blue addictive cinnamon, mined from the sands of Arakkis.
ELd’O’s tribute is not Melange, and the nerd-girl in me feels this could have been really iconic with the addition of either cassia or canela.
Spice Must Flow does have a good desert planet vibe, though.
Opens with an explosion of hot ginger-cardamom-rose, powder dry, that shifts between sweet and salty until it settles to incense dust on the skin, where it lingers for days.
The peppery notes make it very masculine–though a Bene Gesserit witch could easily wear it in a subtle manipulation for dominance–a rugged cardamom bomb with rose thorn shrapnel.
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DUNE was an influence on Thirty Seconds to Mars’s first album.
(du Riz et des Agrumes)
Cardamom rice pudding on an urban summer evening.
Bouncy ginger and spice opening that eases to nice coconut limeade and hot concrete in half an hour, then dwindles to to the skin with amber and vetiver for the night.
Warm and easygoing and fun.
Weirdly virginal.
Candied lily-of-the-valley and jasmine scented laundry starch that fades to an inch off the skin in fifteen minutes.
Sadly, I get none of the skank vibes the ad copy boasts.
This one is pure handsome-doctor-in-a-television-drama.
Soap and water, good leather shoes, a touch of medicinal anointing oil, get-well-soon roses and brooding hero amber.
I’d totally huff it on the ER resident with a stethoscope and good bedside manner.
There’s a lot of speculation about the true identity of Dr, Robert, but he obviously prescribed some fun drugs.
“Possibility in the blue air.”
Chandler Burr’s collaboration with ELd’O–in an homage to LA–is quite good.
A big fresh peel of grapefruit, then a mint mojito–with really nice white rum–and roses.
It’s bright and fresh and cheerful, loud projection and nice longevity, cool green musk at the end, kind of a Gucci Envy updated for this modern age.
I like it much better than the book, which is not cheerful at all, and has very little citrus.
Marquis de Sade–Attack the Sun.
On first blind sniff, I get an earthy animalic lemon with some smoky cedar resin. It’s marvelous, almost like wet oil paints–complex and changing with a hint of sweetness. Even my cat got nosy.
So I looked up the description, and discovered it’s pure labdanum. Rock-rose, and that’s all. The designer apparently doesn’t like it, so he made a solifleur in an attempt at immersion therapy.
Labdanum is at the heart of two of my favorites by LUSH, Tank Battle and Rentless, grounding the clove and the aniseed. On its own, it becomes airier, balsamic and musky, and decadent.
Projects at arms length for an hour, and on the skin for three more.
“How many times, good God, have I not wished it were possible to attack the sun, to deprive the universe of it, or to use it to set the world ablaze –” Donatien Alphonse François de Sade, The 120 Days of Sodom
Another riff on the decadent Marquis:
Big alpha leather with a lemon creme center.
This guy shows up at the party in work boots, carrying a box of chocolates. He appreciates your top shelf liquor cabinet, but doesn’t stay long.
I like him.
Ievan Polkka–also known as the Leekspin song to Bleach fans–by the Finnish group Loituma, is awesome.
Artificial cherry, and the dregs of cheap wine.
A bit of cigarette ash, too.
The ElDO ad copy is a big story about parties and shoes and iris centerpieces, and I get the booze and the hangover, but this scent has been done already, and better–without the feet–in Lolita Lempicka’s Sweet.
Here’s a much better Cherry.
Artsy bubblegum and I’m here for it.
The champagne and cardamom combination keeps it from being gooey, and the jasmine sweetens the sandalwood the perfect amount.
Sillage at arms length for an hour, and close to the skin for three more.
I wish I’d bought the big bottle.
Joan Jett is pretty remarkable.
