Tar

A speedway on a scorching afternoon. Hot asphalt on a Roman street filled with car exhaust and the scent of fine leather-soled shoes softening on the pavement. Tar is for the brave, for those who find the smell of a crowded, polluted city and all its modern trappings a thing of glory. The earth notes and resinous opoponax lurk quietly, giving Tar a quirk that picks your face off the pavement just for a second. Virile and weirdly familiar, it's not for the faint of heart. This is man versus the modern world, and the modern world wins.