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Blood, rusty razor blades, dried semen (smells different from the kind that’s fresh out of the cucumber, take it from one who knows) – but masked by a cloud of something that’s screaming ‘fresh’ and ‘milky’ at the same time. The cumulative effect? To my nose, this is marine verité, seawater lapping in the docks with the whiff of all kinds of urban detritus and dead organisms, but somehow resolutely aquatic. Much as I appreciate the spirit of adventure, this is more than I can bear.
13 July, 2012