Absinthe, like Slow Train Coming by Bob Dylan, burns with a sense of conviction wrapped in elegance—both smooth on the surface, yet full of fire beneath. Antique rose opens with grace and restraint, like Dylan’s measured delivery. Pink pepper brings a sharp, unexpected groove—spiced and urgent, echoing the album’s righteous edge. Musk grounds it with a quiet intensity, steady and unshakable, while ylang-ylang lingers in the background, rich and hypnotic, like the soulful undercurrent of the music. Both the scent and the album feel like warnings sung in velvet—beautiful, bold, and unwavering.
