From the original 1994 release:
Eliot scholars have long wondered about the circumstances which produced this unique musical collaboration, which has for sixty years been largely hidden from the public ear. Apart from a few oblique references in Eliot's correspondence, and a critical analysis in Sir Percival Horton-Smythe's well-known study of early twentieth century experimental recordings, very little has been revealed regarding their origins.

What is known is that, while visiting Keble College, Oxford, in the early 1930s, Eliot was approached by a group of musically inclined undergraduates who proposed that they record some of his more well-known poems to their musical accompaniment. While Eliot initially discouraged the enterprise, he was intrigued by the theories expounded by the group's tempestuous composer, Cyril Norton, regarding the effect of repeated listenings to simple repetitive sounds upon the passive subconscious. He did mention the offer to his friend, Ezra Pound, and when Pound enthusiastically seized upon the idea as a chance to explore the limits of modern poetry, Eliot changed his mind and threw his energies into the project.

The recordings were made at the then state-of-the-art Shepperton Studios in the London suburbs. Norton had arranged financing from Victor to record at least ten poems. The musicians were all keen to make "The Waste Land" a priority, as it was still quite popular among their fellow students. Unfortunately, the extreme length of Eliot's recitation – over thirty minutes – prevented this from being a reality. Although the master acetates from which 78s were then "cut" were longer than a normal 78, and capable of recording more than twice as much, the maximum length of any recording on the master was still only a little over twelve minutes long. Eliot, after much agonizing, pruned his masterpiece – twice, in fact – to distill the essence of the poem. These are the versions which have been reproduced for you today.

The group of musicians included Edward "Teddy" Lionboots on percussion, Augustus "Gus" Pernath on string bass, Rupert Odo Stang on saxophone, D.Y. Evans on guitar, and Norton on piano, cello, and wireless. They called themselves "SPLEEN," from the acronym formed from the first letter of their and Eliot's surnames. The accompaniment was notable not only for the then-unusual combination of instruments, but also for the innovative recording techniques used by Norton. Not only was every instrument electronically amplified, but the sound of each instrument was manipulated by a variety of mechanical and electronic means which, as each of these tracks was recorded "live", required the services of no less than five engineers, creating effects which would not become standard in popular recordings for another thirty years.

Tragically, the project came to a halt soon after the recording of "The Hollow Men", when Norton, a disciple of Crowley, was immolated in a bizarre cycling accident at the spring equinox. The group tried to continue with renditions of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" and "Ash Wednesday", but, without their conductor, the effort was fruitless. Eliot had a tin ear, and SPLEEN drifted apart. The fact that only two compositions had been recorded, coupled with what seemed to be a curse on the project, meant there was little prospect for marketing the recordings. After making a few test 78s, now lost, Victor let the option lapse and released the acetates to Eliot's possession. Although at first pleased with the results of the collaboration, Eliot now had negative feelings about the project and gave the acetates to Pound, dismissing them as "vulgar commercialism". It is at this point that the recordings pass out of history. It was long believed they were lost during the Second World War, and the only people to have heard them remained the artists themselves and a few employees of Victor (among them the mail clerk, Horton-Smythe.)

In 1993, however, a reel-to-reel tape of the recordings was found during an inventory of the effects of the recently deceased Walker Cox, a custodian retired from St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Washington, D.C. Mr. Cox had related the tale to his family and friends of how his friend, Mr. Pound, had given him the tape during his stay there in the 1950s as a token of his appreciation for having smuggled in chocolate bars for Pound, a notorious addict. Mr. Cox, never having owned a reel-to-reel tape machine, had never listened to the tape. Pound had apparently related to Mr. Cox only that it was recording of a "pal", and that Pound had "had it done in Eye-tally", so that it wouldn't be "blown up by those brainless yahoo Yanks."

While, on the surface, this would appear to be, and perhaps was intended to be, a sign of Pound's delusional state, it is quite possible that Pound did have the tape made during the war in case the fragile acetates were damaged by Allied bombing (as apparently they were.) The tape itself is of "L" type used by the Germans in the 1940s, and evidently was recorded on the improved Braunmuhl-Weber Magnetophon used by the German Rundfunk (Radio Network) after 1940. It is quite possible that, while Pound was broadcasting his pro-Axis messages over Radio Italy during the war, he had the opportunity to make a sturdier copy of the recordings on the new German machines.

What is certain is that these tapes for the first time revealed sounds incorporated by SPLEEN which, due to their subtle nature, had been inaudible on the Victor test 78s. Horton-Smythe makes no mention of these elements, and clearly must have listened to something less aurally sophisticated in order to compose his scathing critique. Though digitally remastered for the present release, every effort has been made to remain faithful to the Pound tapes. No new sounds have been added.