I realized that while I have reviewed this cigar on other blogs for online stores, I don’t have it in my catalog. So here it is.
The cigar has been around since 1994 and made to celebrate the Padron 30th anniversary.
As everyone has smoked this cigar, no need to go into its history.
The wrapper is an oily caramel color. It has a nice crisp box press. There are no visible seams. But it does have a lot of veins. The triple cap is flawless. And the wrapper is smooth and almost slick. The double cigar band is unmistakable.
Did you know that every cigar band is individually numbered to prevent counterfeiting?
And that Padron ages the cigars in small batches which they claim makes the magic.
I clip the cap and find aromas of spice, earthiness, cocoa, floral notes, and citrus.
Time to light up.
The strength is on the low end of medium body.
A burn issue presents itself and requires correction. It is one of those V burns on the back side. I hope this is not a portent of the future of this burn.
I just finished reviewing the Primer Mundo la Hermandad which was a powerhouse so a nice easy going cigar, like the Padron 1964, seemed a perfect follow up. No hallucinations.
I’ve allowed this stick to marinate in my humidor for two months.
The pepper continues on its rise. Meanwhile, the floral aroma becomes a pleasant flavor. The cocoa and coffee are in the background. The citrus is becoming strong.
I expected a little more oomph. The slow build is a bit annoying. I like explosive cigars. But this is an old school cigar where it moves slowly up the flavor chain. And has a character all its own. Definitely not a New Breed Tattooed One type of blend. But that’s OK. As this becomes the norm for all new cigars, a nice sophisticated blend is a nice change up.
My only criticism is the price point. There are so many tremendous cigars on the market now in the $7-$9 range that are spectacular that the $13 price tag seems to be archaic and out of touch. Totally relying on its reputation.
The second third begins gently. Coffee becomes a primary flavor. The spiciness is very middle ground. The draw is great. And while not razor sharp, the char line is acceptable and no longer needs any touch ups.
The strength barely makes medium body. Flavors are very subdued, but nice. A crack forms just above the foot.
Flavors are beginning to pick up: Sweetness, coffee, citrus, cocoa, earthiness, and spice.
The char line is a mess and I correct it.
The cigar does not have any complexity. It is simply a group of nice flavors on a medium bodied cigar. Two months should have been plenty for this cigar blend to shine. So I am a little disappointed.
I’m well into the last third, and still, no changes. Everything is subdued. No oomph. Not even any spice. Long gone. All that is left is some sweetness and the citrus.
And now for something completely different:
We had finished recording the first studio album I played on. Prior to this, I played on the “Live” album. So we went into seclusion while the violinist and guitarist and vocalist wrote songs. I was left out. So was the drummer. So I spent time at home doing my own writing.
Miles Copeland, the cheapskate, tried to save money by hiring a producer that had never produced before; only engineered. Granted, he had engineered the albums of the most famous rock bands of the time but producing is a totally different animal than engineering.
The band ran all over him and he couldn’t control the giant egos.
At the official playback of the album at the RCA office building, the suits hated the album.
The band was in shock, but not me.
The album was scrapped and Miles brought in a pair of brothers from America that were real hot shots. Not to mention really obnoxious.
We were in Amsterdam; always the start of our European tours.
Miles called and said the brothers were in town to watch us perform and talk to us.
A meeting was set up at their hotel but no one wanted to go but me. So I went.
These sons of bitches lambasted me on my playing, the production, the choice of songs and even my style of playing on stage. WTF?
They held nothing back and even said they hated the band. Hated?
Why were they chosen? Why would you choose producers that hated the band?
I sat and listened for an hour while the two ranted about everything. Nothing positive.
I went back to our hotel totally depressed and traumatized.
Everyone was in the chick’s room bull shitting. I told them I went to the meeting but they didn’t want to hear about it. I finally forced them to listen and told them what happened.
They all laughed. Such egos.
Well the laugh ended up being on me.
A meeting was held with the band excluding me. The brothers said something had to change. So the band picked me. I was the mediator between the two groups: the guitarist and the violinist….and the chick singer and the drummer. So who better to give the heave ho to then the bassist? Yeah, I was totally the problem with the album. I didn’t get anything of mine on the album and was told what to play. And so it was my entire fault.
I got a call from Ian Copeland. He was the booker for Miles. And newly appointed to be Curved Air’s personal manager and his first duty was to fire me.
He told me he was coming out to Edgeware where I lived. About 15 miles outside of downtown London.
This freaked me out. Why was an important man like him coming all the way out to see me?
I called the chick singer. She finally broke down and told me what was up. I pleaded with her. A total mess. It was so humiliating.
Ian arrived and we sat in my living room. He hemmed and hawed and I couldn’t take it. Ian was a very down to earth guy. And it seemed that he was suffering.
“I know why you’re here, Ian. You’re firing me.”
A sigh of relief was on his face and then he dropped his head and agreed.
I told him that was not fair. What was BTM Records going to do for me for dough? Were they just going to cut me loose and send me on my way? Broke and living in a foreign land.
When I spoke to Miles about money, he told me to ask the band. Wow. This guy really knew how to humiliate me. I now had to go beg for money from the same people that fired me to save their own skins.
I went to one of their rehearsals. The violinist would not talk to me. A stand in bassist was playing with them already.
The band basically blew me off. I left the place wondering how I was going to live.
Thank God for the roadies. I was the only one in the band to treat these guys like humans. The others treated them like slaves.
So when they heard what happened, they approached the managing director. Not only would this asshole not budge, but he told them to get my bass back! I bought my bass from Martin Turner of Wishbone Ash. They were Copeland’s first band. And because they fronted me the dough, the bass was theirs.
This infuriated the roadies so they grabbed a huge lorry and went to the storage area of the record company. The loaded the truck with expensive equipment and drove to my home.
They unloaded it in my garage and told me to sell it all.
No one from management did or said a thing about this. Guilt.
So I sold everything and had money in my pocket. I stayed another 6 months but gave up. I bought tickets and got on an airplane with my girlfriend and her little girl.
Big time rock and roll is an ugly business.
Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS