Eleventh Hour
Byredo (2018)

Sichuan pepper always smells ashen, like the face of a lifetime smoker (see Journey Man for reference), but in Eleventh Hour it gains a Vicks Vapor Rub dimension that gives it a jaunty flourish of something minty-fresh. Cigarettes and mouthwash, feathered out at the edges by the musky, vegetal warmth of carrot seeds. There is not much - to my nose, at least - of the advertized 'mulled wine' effect and it doesn't smell like Christmas at all, unless Christmas smells like cheap men's cologne, wood pulp, and the silver foil inside an empty pack of mentholated cigarettes.

Spicy pepper opening. Unfortunately, something in it, in the initial fifteen minutes to an hour; a citrus and bitter scent that reminded me way too much of my father's cologne (a green bottle used liberally for Church or when they went out for the evening is all I remember). I wear a large number of 'male'ish scents, this one was a step over for me. It mellowed out over time, but that one note as off putting to me. Definitely encourage a sample before buying.

I like this. I don't want to, but I do. Byredo is a house of smoke and mirrors for the most part, the price tag on their perfumes egregious, but this is one case where I enjoy what's being served up. Is it worth the price? Never, but that's not the point of a review is it? Eleventh Hour by Byredo (2018) covers the grim and edgy concept of the "last perfume possible on Earth", conceived at the end of time, or at least the end of life as we know it on the planet, when sea levels have engulfed most of the land and temperatures have made all but most extreme northern and southern places inhospitable to life. The ingredients chosen in Eleventh Hour signify the kinds of things that can still grow and produce perfume, like the Nepalese Ban Timmur, a plant related to Sichuan pepper that provides a minty citric spice tone to the perfume. The rest of this is going to be the prerequisite aromachemical wizardry that most niche labels of this tier produce, with frequent niche perfumer Jerome Epinette. I admit I'm not the biggest fan of his sometimes-derivative work, but he seems to be on his A-game here.

Eleventh Hour opens with that Ban Timmur note and a nice dry bergamot with some sort of aldehyde. A plum rum note comes through, with traces of fig and carrot seed. This boozy dry hay-like structure with the fruits and pepper transitions well into the tonka and oakmoss base of Eleventh Hour, boosted by cashmeran for a smooth woody feel and the glow of Iso E Super. Labadanum lends a chypre feel and overall this could be a cousin to Terre d'Hermès (2006), but with more fruit and spice. Oddly, I get something of an apple ghost note in here, but more like a mulled apple cider sort of vibe, enhanced by the tonka in the base. Eleventh Hour sits in a weird nowhereland between the chypre and the fougère in terms of structure, but it's very satisfying. Eleventh Hour lasts about eight hours on skin, with above average performance in terms of being noticeable to oneself or others, and feels best used in cold weather or indoors where humidity and sun won't make the warmer elements swelter. Eleventh Hour also feels pretty cozy/casual to me, but could make do in an office environment if it isn't a very structured sort of workspace with a strict dress code.

Eleventh Hour by Byredo doesn't 100% conjure "end of the world" imagery in its smell, but perhaps that's the point, since at the end of the world, people would look to something comforting to help them forget their imminent demise. Probably so too, does this perfume in our current (possibly ending) world help the wearer forget their own doom for just a bit, as it wraps that wearer in a dry fruity spicy woody "wool blanket" of scent. This is one case of a Byredo perfume where the conceptualization of a time or place is sort of irrelevant to the smell of the perfume being good or bad in my eyes, since if I caught whiffs of this on a collar or a passerby, I would immediately think of something joyous, welcoming, and festive, rather than a perfume simulating the state of the art during the end times. Yeah, this is fairly synthetic and won't please hardline worshipers of vintage oakmoss chypres or artisanal ouds, but do I really have to keep saying that anyway? Elitist cliques are tiresome and I grow tired of inserting caveats into my reviews for them. If the price is right, this may be worth checking out. Thumbs up.

Finally doing a long-overdue proper sampling of Byredo Eleventh Hour, and even though there have been at least a couple releases since it was released (Elevator Music, Sundazed), it's been one that I've been a huge fan of when sniffing in stores.

From the start, it's a balanced, agreeable fruity, woody, and semi-sharp blend, that has a bit of an apple cider vibe to it while being brighter and less spicy.

Its note breakdown is anything but that conventional, though, some spiciness coming from pepper, sure, but the sort of apple vibe that I'm getting coming from a curious combination of carrot, fig, rum, and tonka. It's fresh at the onset with bergamot; sweet but not too sweet; fruity but not overwhelmingly so; just a twinge green; and comfortable over a woody base (cashmere woods, officially).

Despite some odd notes, it's very easy to wear and feels very versatile on my skin, but given its odd composition, I'd especially encourage anyone curious enough about it to sample it.

At $260 / 100ml and $175 / 50ml retail, it's a little pricey, given that despite its idiosyncrasies, it's not too bold or daring. Twisted Lily currently has the 100ml size on sale for $182, which is nice.

Performance-wise, it's solid, a dense feeling lasting for at least a couple of hours. This isn't the type of fragrance I'd expect or need to be beastly, just robust at its opening with a long enough tail to get me through a work day, which I believe it has.

Overall, not daring, but a satisfying, balanced, useful, fun option that I could see myself or others wearing frequently. An easy winner that's just different enough from anything else I've smelled to wholly have my attention.

8 out of 10

This doesn't quite work for me. I like the packaging for this line, but the juice not as much. This has a little of the woods/patchouli/tea accord I get in some modern fragrances, which isn't a travesty, but it's a big step down from classic fragrances.

The opening has a certain pleasant freshness to it, which is mainly owed to the bergamot in the opening blast. Very early on a slightly sweet boozy element arises that expresses touches of white rum.

The drydown remains boozy, and adds a fruity sweetness that shows characteristics of a sweet and ripe fig at times, but overall the sweetness is counteracted by the vetiver and remains quite well balanced overall. This vetiver is quite bright with only a light touch of earthiness.

Towards the end, a rather weak vanilla combines with a nonspecific woodsy impression to form a somewhat underwhelming coda of this development.

I get, initially, moderate sillage with good projection. The longevity just reaches four hours on me, with the last couple of hours being very, very close to my skin.

A pleasant scent for warmer autumn days, this composition starts off quite well, but in the later stages becomes too generic to convince. Additionally, the performance is less than impressive. 2.75/5.