Cambodi… Cambodi… Cambodi… Cambodi. You’ve heard the word a million times. You might still feel the impact when the sound hits your ears: Cam-bo-di. What it means, what the label stands for. ’Cause for many, Oud = Cambodian Oud. But some ears have grown deaf to the chant. And with good reason…
I’ve used and abused, tested, reviewed, and distilled more Cambodian oud than I can remember. ‘Cambodi’ is probably the profile I’m most familiar with – as an oud man in today’s scene, you have to be… ‘Cambodi’ must be the most dodgy tag in the oud world, after all. But I’m not gonna go into that now.
I’ve been so obsessed with ‘red’ Cambodis the last few years, I’ve forgotten that there are other colors on the palette to paint with. I’ve been so obsessed with that 80s Koh Kong oil Mr Sokha keeps in his prayer niche, that I’ve gone to extremes to imitate its ripped kinamiferous redness. Because of that smell, I’ve spent the last 6 years breathing in ‘Cam-bo-di’ and breathing out ‘Koh-Kong’.
But this time I’m not talking about a Koh Kong Cambodi. I’m talking neither red nor raw. I’m talking about the bottle Mr Sokha had next to that bottle of Koh Kong…
For this oud, you better pull out your earplugs because the ancient chant is back with full force. Loud and – boom! – clear: CAM-BO-DI – and it’s a sultry song you don’t want to miss…
If you ever wondered when Cambodian ouds became equated with ‘fruity’, here’s a hint: When did they start distilling in Pursat?
What you’ve got here is the kind of oud that melts your nostrils. The kind of oud that shows you why generation upon generation oud lovers crave nothing but the scent of zesty old-school Cambodis. The kind that Mr Sokha refuses to sell for love or money (believe me, I make him a very handsome offer each time I see him). No novel techniques or modernized tweaks. Oud the way they used to make them… at a time the Borneo 3000s and Royal Kinams were getting pressed – juicing the kind of mother crassnas available back then.
We’re not talking the linear playfulness of jammy Thai oud here. This is fruitiness of a different order. Crystalline maturity with layers of molasses and lick-your-lips cane sugary sweetness in its top notes. Where Koh Kong oils are raw red, vintage Pursat oils are clementine. There’s zero trace of any soaking or the tartness you get from low-grade wood. The top notes are clean, the heart notes ethereal and the base resonates just the right balance of heavy oudiness and Pursatian tang that just ain’t found in most Cambodis – gives it that good old good wood left to steep and steep for a decade oomph that lets the fruitiness stick around, but lets the straight-up crimson crassnaness hold the lead right till the end. (PS: If you want to amplify that note, wet your hands just a bit).
So, get a bottle and discover what makes oud… CAMBODI.