The overture to the black rhapsody is marvelous. Unsweetened pot of coffee, poured by delicate hands on a precious wooden table, inlaid in mudejar style. It feels like there's a hint of oud in there, but I couldn't swear to it. It resembles Aoud Cafe (Mancera) in concept to me, but it's smoother and lacks the whiff of root vegetables present in Mancera.
At this point I start praying to the gods that the scent is linear, the most linear of them all. Alas, it isn't. It has the merit that that splendid opening lasts long enough, maybe half an hour, after which the juice begins to sweeten, and the quartet of notes that, even in combinations of two (lavender with tonka, tobacco with vanilla) tend to give me a hard time, takes over.
The other fragrance that comes to mind with all these four stated notes is Naxos (Xerjoff), which I loathe with a passion, honestly. La Rhapsodie Noir lacks the excessive and aggressive sweetness of Naxos, it's smoother, better homogenized and more subdued.
If I manage to get over the disappointment generated by the fact that, after the perfect opening, it evolves into a direction not exactly to my taste, I have to admit that I don't dislike the drydown either. I'm surprised it doesn't enjoy greater popularity, given that a lot of other tobacco-vanilla-drunkards of much poorer quality (just to name Jazz Club (Margiela)), are worldwide hits.
Average to good performances, it doesn't make it to the wish list, although the thought did cross my mind for a moment. But Aoud Cafe, which I had long forgotten about and which La Rhapsodie Noire brought back to my mind, might enter my wish list. As raw and unfinished as it is, it's evolved much more to my liking and, while the sample lasted, has delighted me head to tail with every wear.
