Solo Vulcan

Known variously as rock rose, labdanum is a long-lived shrub of 2m and more in height that grows wild and abundantly across Iberia and Morocco, and commonly if less abundantly elsewhere in the Mediterranean landscape where the oily secretions used in perfumery are recovered from the stems and leaves. Deeper research of this unassuming small flower has revealed that wild goats feeding on the leaves apparently have beards that smell of labdanum – a revelation so 'left field' that if anyone can enlighten me regarding the enterprise that lead to this discovery, then I for one would love to know. That aside, and casting an eye across some opinions on Loewe Solo Vulcan, I am at odds with those who consider this sweet. It really isn't. A suggestion of creaminess is even more perplexing. Vulcan's signature is the potent florals. There's no real sweetness – including the orange blossom – to speak of. So, if they aren't sweet, are they bitter? Well, no; not exactly. Instead, they have an astringent pungency that is especially descriptive of the labdanum. Collectively the florals have an ambiance of edge-of-the-desert parchedness evocative of the robust flora found clinging to thin, stoney, sun-baked soils and the searing warmth of the Maghreb. A curious violet-like note hides deep within. Thyme and vetiver are subtle and shrewd additions that complete this fascinating creation. Projection and longevity are commensurate with a product that currently retails for around £180/100ml. After 24 hours even just a light application is still very detectable on my skin. So apply with restraint if testing at a counter. Apparent muted enthusiasm expressed thus far on Fragrantica may just be illusory – especially if the sentiment changes as the scent establishes a broader following. My experience wearing Solo Vulcan is that it elicits curiosity and acclamation in a way that few other scents ever have. Terrific stuff. Loewe quality dialled to its max. 🇪🇸

This stuff is heavy, heady, and strong. It absolutely can be worn on a cool summer day, if not a warm or hot one, but if you apply it in any real quantity, especially straight onto your skin, you and those around you will really, really know about it (like choking on a bunch of narcissi or something). I suspect that some of the poor ratings may be from people who've applied it too liberally. I'm not sure why else this would currently be languishing so far below even a 4.00 rating. I agree with previous reviewers—it does have a kind of buttery or creamy roundness or thickness, and some ambery or resinous depth (due, I imagine, mostly to the labdanum accord, although I feel that the lavender is probably involved too). It does not smell green to me but has a kind of background herbaceous coarseness (from the lavender and thyme at least) that I find conceptually reminiscent of the macho fragrances of peak oakmoss era, even though this does not smell like those at all and even though I can't imagine that many men wearing those would have felt comfortable wearing anything as flowery as this. I don't find it smells particularly old-fashioned but nor can I imagine it being popular among young men eager to express their individuality by wearing whatever every other young guy is wearing this week. Perhaps it's timeless or perhaps I just don't have much else to which to compare it. Even if it is modern, I think it has to be considered mature. The overall effect of the white flowers is predominantly of the barbershop-adjacent orange grove variety but also has a pronounced and, to my nose, intoxicating gardenia-type mushroomy aspect that fits nicely with the labdanum. Overall, I would say that this is probably somewhere near unisex. The florals perhaps lean feminine, the herbaceous backdrop masculine.

I fell in love with it immediately after trying it and within a couple of days I bought the 50 ml version. I am still very pleased with it, but it must be said that its "aggressive sweetness" is likely to be a bit heavy to sustain throughout the day. I agree with what has already been said: this is a very original perfume (I don't have a lot of perfumes in my collection but not a few either, and it doesn't resemble anything I already own). In addition to the floral component I detect something honey-like that makes it very enveloping, inviting and tantalizing, but perhaps unsuitable for warmer climates. I think it can be worn without problem by a woman, with remarkable longevity and moderate sillage. If it cost a little less I would recommend it without a second thought.

This is a strange perfume, and half a spray too much makes it absolutely horrific. In fact I apply tiny dabs with a little roller decant, otherwise it's intolerable. But in these tiny amounts, it can be very interesting. It's like neon orange blossom with very dry lavender, and some sort of weird indolic creaminess. In the far drydown, there's a little twinge of secretions magnifiques, but only a tiny wisp, it's not off-putting. Unique and bold for sure. Horrible if oversprayed. You have been warned.

This and Atlas are very interesting. Atlas has a slightly bigger focus on the florals, while this is earthier, more bitter. No spices are mentioned, but the labdanum’s warmth mixed with the very interesting thyme note makes the whole spicy. I even smell a faint Red Chilli note, that is not listed but that’s definitely there, at least to my nose. I'd say this is a bit more masculine than Atlas, maybe because of the vétiver and lavender, which are definitely present in the base.