Thomas De Quincey's Suspiria De Profundis: Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow Expanded Edition 12" LP now on sale

An amazing expanded version of Thomas De Quincey's Suspiria De Profundis: Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow in the form of a 12" LP has just gone on sale at Cadabra Records! The original 7" record release has been remixed and has entirely new elements as well as a significantly extended version of the isolated score which makes up Side B of this exquisite offering. Laurence R. Harvey's exceptional reading of De Quincey's majestic prose-poem is captured with tremendous sonic fidelity and it was such an honor to work on this updated version set to his sublime narration. I've heard the test pressing of this vinyl record and it sounds flawless on every level.

My score for Suspiria De Profundis: Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow consists of a variety of synthesizers along with organ, hand percussion and processed field recordings which are all weaving in and out of each other throughout this record. This soundtrack was gorgeously produced and engineered by Barry Knob. For this expanded 12" LP, Todd Mendelsohn contributed some evocative additional samples and effects. 

J. Blake Fichera wrote excellent liner notes that give great context into some of the massive influence De Quincey's writings have had over the years on others, most notably being legendary film director, Dario Argento.

Zakuro Aoyama's otherworldly art for this edition is a masterpiece that perfectly illustrates De Quincey's Suspiria

Cadabra Records founder Jonathan Dennison has done it again and put together yet another stunning vinyl release and I couldn't be more excited for people to soak it all in!

More details from the Cadabra press release:

This production is a complete overhaul of the original 7" outside of the reading. The music has been enhanced and expanded. Side B is an extended isolated score. This mix is perfect as opposed the the 7" which we've always wanted a chance to rectify. All packaged in our 12" tip-on sleeve with insert. We're also including promotional posters while supplies last.

Mater Tenebrarum, Our Lady of Darkness - Black vinyl variant 15x copies - $32
Mater Lachrymarum, Our Lady of Tears - Transparent red vinyl variant 80x copies - $32
Mater Suspiriorum, Our Lady of Sighs - Transparent yellow vinyl variant 80x copies - $32


* Limited pressing on 150 gram vinyl

* Printed on a deluxe heavy weight tip-on jacket

* Includes insert liner notes by J. Blake Fichera

* Includes a 18" x 24" poster - While supplies last

* Newly commissioned art by Zakuro Aoyama

 It's only too appropriate that Laurence R. Harvey's reading of “Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow,” from Thomas De Quincey's Suspiria De Profundis, begins with the tolling of bells. De Quincey's words speak simultaneously of scholarship and worship, both things which have been long-noted for beginning with the tones of a ringing bell. How appropriate, then, that Harvey is reading of the start of life – the very ultimate of all beginnings – as well.

However, “Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow” is not about duality, but about the tripartite relationship of worship in the Furies, the Graces, and once even the Muses. To these, De Quincey adds and Harvey reads of a new triad: “Our Ladies of Sorrow.” Mater Lachrymarum, Our Lady of Tears; Mater Suspiriorum, Our Lady of Sighs; and Mater Tenebrarum, Our Lady of Darkness.

As Harvey reads, his voice begins to be rung through with echoes. Those bells are pealing a second time, while the chiming tones of composer Chris Bozzone's score play in the background, bringing about a musical trinity to complement the words Harvey is reading. This musical mirroring continues down to the smallest detail. When Harvey reads the words, “I upon earth had heard their mysteries oftentimes deciphered by harp and timbrel, by dulcimer and organ,” just after the last word, there is the slightest hint of a organ note played out, and it is glorious to behold.

In much the same way that writer De Quincey begins with scholarship and quickly begins to transition to that of worship, so does Chris Bozzone's music begin by mirroring that worship and then transitions itself into a different kind of religious activity. While at the beginning, the music can be heard to be almost celestial, as the tale goes on, it begins darker and more pagan. The sensation of ethereal choirs gives way to hints of rhythmic chanting.

 Though the music may come back round at the end to include church organ, the experience is less one of incense and stained glass, but more of wood smoke and darkened inner chambers. Not for nothing are De Quincey's words full of things such as “darkness,” “scorch,” and “furnace.”

Chris Bozzone