La Haine
Note
Composed by Mark Buxton
A cold blade to the neck, bloody metal, and the smell of burnt rubber: MOTH AND RABBIT La Haine doesn't enter loudly, but from the first second, it creates a feeling that something is about to happen.
Cold aldehydes, sulfuric buchu, and metallic blood notes open the composition sterile and carnal at the same time. The contrast is unpleasantly deliberate, like a clean surface with a mark that doesn't belong there.
Aroma of rum, bay leaf, nutmeg, and cardamom briefly introduce warmth. They don't create a pleasant spicy intermezzo; they only heighten the tension before leather and cold cedar once again constrict the space.
Mark Buxton guides the composition calmly, without an olfactory roar. It is precisely this control that makes it confrontational: concrete emerges from cold cedar, while birch tar and burnt rubber create a dark, industrial edge.
Atlas cedar, dark musk, and moss later leave a dry, dirty-green trail. The leather hardens, the metal cools, and the smoke of rubber lingers like the air on the street after sudden braking.
La Haine is not a leather perfume for someone who wants smooth suede. It is bloody metal over concrete, birch tar, cold leather, and burnt rubber — a scent that feels like one second before a confrontation.
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