Fate for Women is the queen in an urban fantasy who reads your palm with a handshake and leaves you wondering if you’re going to be invited for a bedtime snack, or eaten in a stew.
Opens with cinnamon and pepper–almost itchy–then sweet incense flares with a breath of rose for an hour. Eventually the most gorgeous benzoin melts with vanilla into leather and lingers all night.
Incredible on silk scarves.
This cover of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins is spicy-smoky-amazing.
Leather motorcycle gear in the sun.
Animalic asphalt, and a marvelous tomato leaf–this guy goes off-road, too. A bit of sour fruit and herb-y flowers round out the long ride.
I love the way the vibe switches back and forth from urban to rural.
Chevelle’s Take out the Gunman came out in 2014, too. A good driving song.
It’s blue! And weird and wet and marvelous.
Marine water and smoke out of the vial that darkens down to black fountain pen ink, dirtying up sea foam.
Algae blooms, delicate green, strangely organic and chemical at the same time, with big juicy sillage.
The ambergris rises to the surface an hour later, making it even wetter with ocean spray; benzoin sweetens it, turning it fresh again.
Six hours later and it’s still there, chaotic, never seeming to settle down to one depth; yet it’s oddly comforting and beautiful.
Gov’t Mule does a terrific jam cover of Jimi Hendrix’s 1983 (A Merman I Shall Be)–from Electric Ladyland–that goes deep under water around the 4:15 mark.
This one smells oddly like…
Toast that’s had a burnt crust scraped off, peppery citrus grilled on a cedar plank, melon on the side.
It’s like a savory gourmand–but it works, in a honeymoon morning, cabin-in-the-woods kind of way.
A comforting scent that drifts to the masculine, with enjoyable self-care vibes.
Opens with oaky root-beer and a hit of patchouli, then settles into vanilla sweetened incense smoke.
A bit of myrrh on the bottom gives a nice medicinal note in an indulgent healing way.
Lasts for a good hour a foot of the hands, and two more close to the skin.
I snapped this pic on my dad’s harpsichord. This song features one and has some of the same easy feel-good vibe as the scent-
A Midwinter’s orgy.
Opens with fir and sticky chocolate, incense and sex.
Seriously. This stuff is like having violent Viking-love in a heap of furs in front of a balsam bonfire. It writes runes on your body with spruce psychotropics and sweet ash.
The juice is dark and lays heavy on the skin, like hands and honey and pine tree sap, and stains clothes with green spoor.
Norne can refer to a calypso orchid, or to the three Norse goddess of destiny.
Beekeepers smell like this–honey and smoke and sweet resin. Flowers and wood and hard sweaty work underneath.
Bees make a sticky glue from pine sap called propolis to secure the honeycomb. It’s been used for centuries to varnish violins and in traditional medicine to soothe irritated throats.
Smoke gets the buzzy girls high, so they don’t mind the beeman in their home. He’ll say hullo to the queen and admire the brood before leaving.
Summer afternoons, when it’s too hot for even the roses, the propolis gets soft and the honey makes a mirage of heat over the hives–this is Pour le Soir.
He actually makes the guitar bumble.