Linferno opens with a strong, pungent, balsamic-herbal ultra dark accord, setting from the very first sniff a ghastly and almost discomforting mood, harsh and almost metallic – not predictably due to aldehydes, rather a more "living", rusty, industrial metallic feel. Lavender blended with a dark base of benzoin, a light salty vetiver note, amber, dry licorice, perhaps also a super dry tobacco note, resinous-balmy notes, and a dark heart, animalic and initially almost fecal, perhaps of castoreum... ideally not far from some '70s/'80s fougères, mostly because of the strong herbal notes and the dark base: but it's a surrealist take on fougères, filtered through O'Driù postmodern creativity, both because of the "overpungent" head notes, the insolent animalic side, the suburban mood, and above all for his composition style – horizontal, without a clear "vertical" structure and a predictable evolution. As many other scents by Pregoni, in fact, this one too is fairly complex, yet so dense and tight, it changes a lot from times to times, each time revealing a new note, or a new nuance, until you reach a point of "confusion" between what you're thinking you're smelling, and what it's actually there. Of course this is not something for people who only (legitimately) want to smell nice, clean and safe: but if you are into creative perfumery and true "provocative" olfactory statements, then this may surely be appealing for you.
However, the scent: for a couple of hours it's basically that, in broad terms a complex, dark, pungent and bold herbal-animalic concoction, with a mixture of dry and humid notes and a lot of smells and nuances coming from "the dark side" – animalic notes, herbs, tobacco, sticky smells, all sweetened by a hint of vanilla which provides a "round" soft cradle, comforting yet gloomy as well. It's only the opening, though: as minutes pass, in fact, something fascinating happens, as the blend starts to dry down it develops a sort of "burning" feel, like if the scent actually and alchemically started to char on your skin. The burning and drying process is not (predictably) "smoky" à la Bois d'ascèse, it's something more sulphurish, more bitter, more cloying in a way. The notes smell natural, but it's like if someone injected some chemical poison which takes away the life from them, and they die down, becoming dry and bitter. Halfway organic and industrial (as many other O'Driù scents manage to smell). On the base it still remains something sweeter and lightly stickier, which kind of seems to represent the last vital and carnal debris – that is my fantasy guess. And when you're starting thinking it's all over, the last breath of life comes, and the drydown switches again towards a more velvety, sweeter, pine-herbal drydown, always comprising sulphurish and "burnt" notes, but becoming more gentle, balsamic and sweeter.
I won't lie, this scent is quite "demanding" in a way, and to me it does not surely smell versatile, friendly or commonly "pleasant" (I guess Angelo knows it too since he made only 12 of those!). It smells more like a totally free and "liberatory" work to explore some images and concepts which probably would not really fit into a "normal" scent. Not saying it's stinky or confused: it's really evocative, involving, even refined in a way, totally compelling in its own way, and would probably gain attention of people around you (not in a bad meaning). It has a peculiar, archaic, primitive herbal-woody-animalic dryness which is surely as demanding and peculiar as charming and addictive. Slumberhouse fans may find this intriguing. Unfriendly, but worth a try!