Ruth White - Flowers of Evil (1969)

Electronic music pioneer Ruth White reads/moans/half-sings a translation of Charles Baudelaire's classic Les Fleurs du Mal over sparse, dissonant, primitive electronic compositions. Although I have yet to confirm this, I am pretty sure that playing this album under the correct conditions (midnight, no lights, various other factors) will awaken a curse that will, eventually, lead to the listener committing some type of high-profile suicide.

Track listing:
1. The Clock
2. Evening Harmony
3. Lovers Wine
4. Owls
5. Mists and Rains
6. The Irremediable
7. The Cat
8. Spleen
9. The Litanies of Satan

When the low heavy sky weighs like a lid on the spirit aching for the light
And when embracing the horizon it pours on us a black day which is sadder than any night
When the earth is turned into a gripping dungeon in which hope like a bat flutters blindly and bruises its timid wings and tender head against the walls and rotted ceilings
When the rain stretching down its long streaks of water imitates the bars of an enormous prison
And a silent throng of loathsome spiders come and weave their webs inside our brains
And suddenly, the bells swing angrily and hurl their hideous uproar into the sky like a band of wandering spirits who wail relentlessly
And long hearses without drums or music move in a slow procession through my soul
And defeated hope bursts into tears
And the fierce tyrant, Anguish, sets his black banner on my bowed head