Super Tip! *400 copies** Originally released in the late 70s, Vittoria Corona aka Corviria's 'Psyco Analysis' remains today one of the most obscure and mysterious titles inside the vast catalogue of Edizioni Leonardi, from the points of view both of its musical content and of its realization.
Musically, in fact, we are facing a collection of short dark-tinged and gloomy compositions for piano and synthesizers, characterized by a slow and unrelenting pace, a perfect soundtrack for a thriller/noir or a '50s/'60s sci-fi horror movie, with the exception of the closing piece 'Seagull,' a more bright and relaxed song that almost seems to 'liberate' the listener from the shady sounds of the previous tracks, accompanying him on the shore of a tropical beach. 'Psyco Analysis' has become with time a highly sought-after title among collectors and library music enthusiasts. Basically impossible to find in its original edition, it is finally reprinted on vinyl for the first time: a Redi Edizioni exclusive, distributed by BTF, on the occasion of the Record Store Day 2023.
"Within the darkest corners of the Italian library music landscape sits the elusive music of Corviria, specifically her Psyco Analysis album, which is perhaps some of the most original, unsettling and at times borderline terrifying music you are likely to hear. The mysterious nature of this composer not only applies to her writing style, but also her origin and short-lived thematic modus operandi.
Very much the product of a one-woman project, the two albums for the obscure Squirrel and Titian label were recorded around 1979 by one Vittoria Corona in an intimate and uninhibited electronic studio environment. The suspected first of the two LPs – library labels wisely didn’t put dates on LPs, in order to enhance the sense of timelessness – Psyco Analysis relies heavily on treated piano and solo string instruments, with a heavy usage of either a Space Echo unit or WEM Copycat tape delay (not forgetting Goblin’s favourite Roland String-Synth). As the album progresses, all recognisable organic elements and techniques fall by the wayside, and tracks with harsh titles like “Trauma Infantile,” “Subconscio” and “Schizofrenia” begin to dominate the record. Adopting haunting female vocalisations and some sporadic wet effects, Corviria’s drone-tones and minimalistic reverberated terror slowly begins to grip the listener, with little sign of letting go.
The final track on the album, “Seagull Song,” suddenly switches the narrative polarity, with an innocent lullaby built around an electronic drum machine and a synthetic vocal melody. This final twist on the conceptual LP restores the almost-human element, and either marks the end of the suffering or, indeed, the normalisation of the album’s theme – or our patient’s psychosis. As a listener, it may be I’ve done too much “analysis” myself on this record. But in reality, after a long, long wait on my want-list, I have genuinely been a bit too scared to re-listen to the album…never mind the sequel. "