2nd Edition. Black vinyl. Somewhere in America, early 1960s. A tape recorder captures what no congregation was meant to hear. The voices of women possessed - or believed to be possessed - struggling against demons real or imagined while priests perform the ancient rite of exorcism. Screams. Prayers. Commands in Latin. The grinding friction between the sacred and the profane, committed to magnetic tape and then buried for decades.

Before The Exorcist made demonic possession a cultural phenomenon, before William Peter Blatty's novel and William Friedkin's film burned images of spinning heads and pea-soup vomit into the collective unconscious, exorcism was a private ritual - conducted in back rooms and parish houses, witnessed only by the faithful and the afflicted. These field recordings document that hidden world: raw, unedited, disturbing in their intimacy.

The tapes surfaced without provenance. No names. No locations. No explanatory documentation. Just the sounds themselves - the ritualized combat between clergy and whatever forces they believed had taken hold of these women. "Woman, Thy Name Is Satan" - the title drawn from the misogynistic theology that has long associated femininity with demonic vulnerability, with Eve's original transgression, with flesh as the devil's doorway.

What you hear is not Hollywood. There are no special effects, no Bernard Herrmann strings, no dramatic lighting cues. There is only the terrible ordinariness of it - voices cracking under strain, Latin invocations recited with bureaucratic persistence, the wet sounds of struggle and exhaustion. Whether you interpret these recordings as documentation of genuine spiritual warfare or as evidence of religious abuse inflicted on vulnerable women, they remain profoundly unsettling. Too intriguing to be merely offensive. Too strange to dismiss.

From demonic to delivered. From possessed to released. Or perhaps from one kind of captivity to another. The recordings make no argument. They simply present what the microphone captured in those closed rooms where faith met whatever darkness it believed it was fighting.

This record has been anointed with holy water blessed by a priest.

Really.