NuiWhakakore

... it stares at me, black and heavy, for hours, days, weeks already, I don't know, time seems to stand still around it, it radiates something gloomy, I suspect that if I touch it, it will swallow me up, pull me down into a dark void, just as the room lies in shadows, the only bright thing is the white paper on the roller and even that is more yellowed than radiant and gives off the smell of spicy flowers, or it leaks in from the souq, it is confusing, as friendly as if it wanted to mock me in my darkness, it lays itself over me, narcotic and heavy, trying to lure me, to crush me. ..

The scratching of bugs. They crawl right over the eardrum. Like a scraping beat. Sweat on my forehead. Feel the keys. They are warm and leather. Pulsing like a living thing. The fingers merge with the machine. Become one with it. Dark thoughts fill the mind, flow out in a gush of dirty earth. No control. Only the perpetual hammering of the keys.

...I jolt up, it has become dark and the machine is still staring at me, black and heavy, steaming now, it stands before me and the room is filled with the smell of hot metal, like an animal a sheet of paper lies on the leather roller, like a tongue, only now written on, it demands attention, so I pull it out and put it in the folder with the others, with the last of my strength, then it is enough for today, even if the thoughts are still racing and sleep is once again not in sight…

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Type Writer is one of those fragrances that create images, at least for me. That in itself is almost the highest compliment, but I could even imagine wearing it, on (very) special occasions at least. But first things first...

It starts sweet, with a very lush, slightly narcotic tuberose, though it doesn't remind me of bubblegum here as much as in the same brand's Black Tar. That's due to the aldhydes, which bring quite a spicy note to it. Very dry, woody notes are also apparent. A slight association to paper can definitely be fantasized into it. Dark resin and light smoke make themselves felt, though it is much less smoky than anticipated. It is rather a spicy vapor.
As it progresses it becomes more leathery and resinous, somewhat dirty and also slightly earthy. The animalic notes increase as well, complementing the florals very well. Sometimes even a slightly fresh cedar flashes through. At the same time, Type Writer is always quite gentle. Only after 4-5 hours does it get a bit harsher. There is a feeling of hot metal and oil. This is how it slowly fades out.

For me, a very special fragrance, exciting and demanding, but also rewarding if you get involved and quite wearable, although not too often. I do not think, it is too dark, it is rather a game of light (at least twilight) and shadow. I can understand the comparisons to Black Tar, if only because of the tuberose. However, Type Writer is much softer in comparison and it also lacks the thick tar smoke, which of course I welcome.

Thanks to Gandix for tutoring me in automatic writing!

Soundtrak: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trbvx1U6Ry8

It's a sunny day. Just like any other day. Shawn knows that as he walks into his orange grove. There's no great art in predicting that in Southern California. The air is still pleasant this early in the morning. Not cool, exactly, but still pleasant. The smell of the not quite ripe fruit fills the air. Still a bit green and slightly bitter, somewhat damp, but already hinting at the sweetness that the sunshine will bring.
The flowers under the trees bloom shyly and timidly. Instead, the plump currant buds fill the air with their fresh green scent. Shawn touches one and it instantly bursts open, spraying herbaceous chamomile sparks. It may sound unusual, but that's exactly the kind of day it is.
The sun rises higher and pierces everything. The world turns to fruit. Fresh and spicy, it makes you forget the heat of the day. Those are always the best hours for Shawn. Evening will bring the wind from the east, following the mountain flanks downward, charged with the smell of the dry cedars and their spicy resin and a hint of smoke, the first harbingers of the summer fires.
And again a day comes to an end, like the previous ones and also like the following ones and yet never quite the same and one day the fruits will be ripe and it will be another good harvest.

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Shawn Maher himself writes about Sun Soaked that he wanted to create a fragrance so saturated with the sun that it overflows with sunshine. He certainly succeeded in doing that. Further, he writes that he focused on neroli in the fragrance. I feel a little differently about that, but in order.

Sun Soaked starts first of all with a tart lemon. Very fresh and also relatively bitter. It is probably the combination of bitter orange and neroli that plays a trick on me here. At the same time, there is also a dark green, herbaceous note. After 5 minutes, the bitter tones are mostly gone and slightly floral notes become apparent. Now neroli also pushes forward in a moderately harsh, slightly green form in the perception, but does not dominate the fragrance at all. It also becomes increasingly fruity, perhaps due to the currant bud, though I don't detect any currants. I couldn't tell what that fruit is now either. A pleasant citrus mix. The heart then stays that way for now, fresh fruity with green spicy notes.

After about 1.5 hours, the base makes itself felt. Dry wood, where I do not recognize the cedar, and resinous amber. Fruity notes are first still recognizable, but fade visibly. In the further course (so after 3 hours), the amber becomes stronger, the fragrance thus warmer, but not noticeably sweeter. Smoke is only minimally perceptible at first, but becomes more and more distinct as time goes on, until a pleasant mix of dry wood, sweetish resin and a bit of smoke remains at the end. The Southern California day lasts 7 to 8 hours, with moderate silage.

I don't usually like overly fruity scents. Here, though, I think the blend of fresh and fruity with the slightly tart green notes is very well done. The florals at the beginning do not play a big role and the dry-woody and unsweet-resinous, slightly smoky base is a dream.

Flashes of light in all colors. Hot bodies close together. The air is sticky and sweet. Rotting flowers and mold in the corners. It's damp in here, the walls, the ceilings, everything. Sweat condensing. If it were always like this here, stalactites might form in a few million years. It is loud, the band gives everything. Basses boom, pressure on the chest, as if they want to set the rhythm for the heart. The crowd surges, like one big animal. The leather sticks to the skin. Ecstasy.

On the way to the toilet. Great, it's all full. No way through here. What kind of door is that? Never noticed it before, never mind, it's open. It must be a toilet, or at least it smells like one. The door falls heavily into the lock and suddenly there is silence. The bass is just a distant rumble.

The lighting is strange. The light seems to come directly out of the walls. Thin threads stretch across the walls, a faintly glowing mycelium. Bioluminescence. Mushrooms sprout out of the corners. Was the champagne bad, or did someone spike it? No, it can't be, the screw cap cracked when it was opened, for sure. Are you sure?

Closer to the walls. The curious finger breaks through the surface. Damp earth. Black under the nail. Flowers, lovely and sweet, sprout from the hole. The ground turns to leather. Warm to the touch. It pulses. A breeze like a breath. The room a living organism. The heart of an animal.

Rush out, party on!

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For those who missed such parties (even without a trip) in the past, or for those who long for them, this fragrance is highly recommended!
Nekro Dellamorte starts quite sweet-synthetic and initially quite undefined. Only after a few minutes a floral note peels out. Indolic jasmine, not my favorite. And a sense of mold in the corners. The whole thing also becomes quite animalic, not yet in the sense of an animal, but rather the animalic smell of people. Many people close together. Hard to imagine at the moment.
The urine note is then also very clearly recognizable, as in an old train station toilet and not at a McClean, or as in a filthy club. In addition, there is something sour, which reminds me of stale champagne or wine. It's not sparklng any more and have not been for a long time. It wasn't the most expensive brand anyway. The mushrooms are more a notion, but damp earth I can clearly recognize.
So far, so bad. With time, however, the scent actually becomes softer and more gentle. Hardly urine anymore. Instead a little animalic leather and flowers. The animalic here is no longer human, but rather beastly. I could well imagine that civet is involved here. And rarely have I been so pleased with a few flowers, they do make the scent more approachable and almost pleasant. Durability and silage are, as often with such things, very good. Why, actually?
Despite a conciliatory base, this is not a perfume for me, but a concept. As such, quite successful, but not really wearable.

Translated from my original german review, I hope it‘s not too bad!