When it first opens, Blackbird smells like chemically treated, oily leather. There's almost a searing quality to it, as if some kind of toxic chemical was used to tan the hide and it hasn't completely dried yet. It's odd, but it smells good, and is restrained enough as to avoid an overbearing presence. It's black, and hardcore, the color of crude oil. Then, this really peculiar, salty seaweed accord creeps in and blends with the leather. It's a kind of a cold, marine, coastal smell and you can almost feel the salty moisture in the air. This is a really cool phase of the fragrance, and I've never experienced, or expected to experience leather and seaweed together. But here they are, in a quirky, symbiotic relationship creating something new and previously unheard of. It's worth mentioning that this is also the most realistic 'sea salt' note I've encountered. The cannabis in Blackbird plays the edges, and gives a nice "Kinski-esque" accent to the composition. And there's a dark green, piney forest element that lives in Blackbird as well. It provides some familiarity in an otherwise strange and unusual scent. Finally, Blackbird settles into its base with a natural, high quality oud that is resinous, a bit animalic, and a little dirty. This is real oud, as it appears in expensive oud oils and attars, and its unmistakable. There is a similar oud in the base of Vikt (by Slumberhouse), but other than that, I've rarely experienced this in mainstream niche perfumery. Hats off to House of Matriarch for including real oud instead of the industry-standard synthetic, as there's an enormous difference between the two. With wear, other little facets of Blackbird blossom, appear, and disappear. While it maintains the basic structure described above, subtle shifts pop up throughout its duration.
I was surprised by how wearable and pleasant I find Blackbird. I was expecting something big, foreboding, and nuclear. But it's not. It's much more compressed than I had expected, less expansive, and not intrusive at all. It projects about a foot and leaves a light, though firmly present sillage. I like this about it, and it makes the wholly odd and interesting composition easier to digest and enjoy. And in some ways, without analyzing it up close and in depth and thinking about it so much, this is just a very enjoyable masculine leather fragrance. I received a few comments on it and basically they could be summed up as, "Oh, that smells nice." So it's not like you're going to go around freaking people out when you wear this. But it will maintain your interest, and you certainly don't own anything else like it. Longevity is very good.
On a spacial note, I don't feel like Blackbird totally envelopes me when I wear it. Because of its compressed structure, I almost feel as if I'm looking down on it, from some distance above. And below I can see a forest as it stands in the mist, all foggy greens looming over a sandy, beige coast, a little dark and gray, with some rain clouds opening over the sea. It's this detachment that allows me to wear Blackbird and admire it for what it is.
One of my favorite finds this year, I highly recommend sampling this even if you think it sounds like it's a little too much to handle or too heavy. It's really not, and you might just find the leather you've been looking for.