Monolith

Fire. No embellishments—when the forest is burning. Smoke, soot, fire. If you inhale from your hand, you start coughing from the intensity. As powerful as Zoologist Tyrannosaurus Rex. After a while, the fire dies down, leaving smoldering embers of trees and the scent of surviving spruces—resin, bark. Then a VERY strong leather note emerges, as if Fueguia 1833 Muskara Cuero was added, and a balance of these three powerful components is formed.

While I respect Beaufort's Tonnere, I find it totally unwearable. This is like someone decided to sort out Tonnere and make it better. It's not that it's tamer, it isn't. It's just more balanced and less fishy barbecue with lime salsa. Monolith is an accomplished, beautiful masterpiece whereas Tonnere is the obnoxious art student hommage (yes I know it came first).

i'm kind of obsessed with this one. smokey and woody - smells like a barbeque. chickened out of purchasing this as i was too afraid of wearing it around people and having them think i either a) am a smoker or b) came to work in clothes from the weekend family grill.

I recently bought a bottle and it is certainly... something. It very much delivers on the description yet is also infinitely stronger than I imagined. It feels like 1 spray is enough to smell it miles away (exaggerated). I am not yet sure whether I like it or whether I would dare wear it around people. However, it is a cent I find myself putting on just due to how unique and puzzling it is.

Another release that is undoubtedly not for everyone, but in its raw, unabashed dirt and smoke, is definitely for me. A rework of an earlier entry into their Psychoterratica series, Monolith is defined by an overdose of peat, a material used in the production of certain malt whiskies. Dirty, smoky, and grimy, the opening is pure and intense — like licking the bottom of an outdoor grill. Heady castoreum supplements the initial censing, adding an animalic undertone that almost knocks the breath out of you. Intentionally provocative, I was surprised by how quickly this initial assault wears off, and how easily it yields into quite a handsome aged earthen vetiver. Euan McCall reportedly spotlighted a vintage vetiver oil in high concentrations in this limited composition, and I think it truly shines in the drydown. I would almost go so far as to say the gorgeous, bloody Firewater is more of a scary composition than this one — yes, the opening of Monolith is fierce, but what’s under the mask is kindhearted and reasonable. Try to source this for the man or nominally insane woman in your life who wore Imaginary Authors City on Fire and thought it wasn’t hardcore enough.