Throughout her career, indie artist Ethel Cain has proven she’s unafraid to take musical risks.
Known for her hauntingly atmospheric music, blending elements of dream pop, alternative rock and Southern Gothic influences, her sound immersed listeners in raw, emotionally charged narratives exploring themes of identity, family and faith.
With a distinct sound and persona Cain cultivated a devoted, cult-like fan base after the massive success of her 2022 album “Preachers Daughter.” With dark-amibident chords and buzzing distortions littering the release, it perhaps hinted at the melancholic and experimental turn Cain would then take with her newest album, “Perverts.”
Released on Jan 8. 2025, “Perverts” mainly consists of 10-fifteen minute songs drenched in reverb, droning and the themes of gothic-horror that have become the defining characteristic of Cain’s work.
At an hour and 29 minutes “Perverts” successfully masters the art of ambient storytelling. Cain’s turn into more despondent instrumentation and macabre lyricism might alienate some of the singer’s audience, but that’s exactly the point.
When speaking on the success of “Preachers Daughter” in a 2023 interview with The Guardian Cain stated she was tired of playing “Miss Alt-Pop Star and … parading [herself] around.” stating it made her feel like a performing monkey, she expressed her desire to “push [her music] father into the direction that [she has] always wanted to go.” on her next release.
And push it she did. While “Perverts” continues with the religious and gothic theming present on “Preachers Daughter” it manages to push the envelope further, delving into even darker waters. Throughout the record, Cain solely uses lo-fi-recording techniques and a drone — a sub-genre of music that focuses on sustained harmonic sounds — in combination with Cain’s lyrical prowess results in a 9-track long record that’s as terrifying as it is affecting.
The album begins with its title track, a 12 minute experience in ambient music. A distorted buzzing appears — a musical element that becomes an omnipresent force over the albums run-time, and after several minutes of nothing but that eerie droning Cain’s vocals come in as she repeats the lines to the prayer “Nearer, My God, To Thee,” the buzzing becomes louder and overtakes the prayer as a mumbling Cain now repeats the line, “Heaven has forsaken the masturbator/ It’s happening to everybody.”
The album is deeply uncomfortable, and when listened to in its entirety the long stretches of quiet droning forces listeners to sit in that discomfort. Yet when you push past those stretches of near-silent buzzing and droning what you’re left with is incredibly dynamic instrumentation.
The second track “Punish” epitomes this. A slowcore song at just under seven minutes long, starts with a despondent piano accompanying Cain’s voice as she laments “I am Punished by love,” As one of few tracks that includes string-instrumentation, guitars cut in through the fog of buzzing as the song crescendos Cain cries out “Nature chews on me,” Sure, It’s not a clear picture she’s painting, but as the oozing buzzes and warbling piano swell around Cain’s voice, it makes nearly everything she says sounds profound.
The same can be said for the rest of the tracks on the album, all of which find themselves baked into that constant droning, a force that swells and pulls over the entirety of the album. “Housofpsychoticwomn” is another drone-leading track consisting of Cain’s staple growel-whisper, “I love you,” she hums in a way that’s hard not to take as a threat.
“Vacillator” is much the same thematically, with the notable inclusion of a repetitive snare-beat. Cain’s beloved buzzing sweeps in as she garbles “if you love me, keep it to yourself.” The song is a seven minute long grappling of domestic abuse, the bare bones production heightens the terror of Cain murmuring “I like that sound you make / when you’re clawing at the edge / and without escape.”
“Onanist” exists over similar instrumentation as Cain muses about the possibilities of hell. Warped wind sounds pull around the ever-present buzzing as Cain’s high-pitched and ethereal vocals fade in before distorting beyond recognition, the tracks electric bass builds and then crashes alongside Cain’s distorted voice leading to one of the most memorable moments on the album.
“Perverts” is a lot to take in one sitting. Nearly every song on the album follows the same thematic beginning, slow droning fades in as Cain mutters about some terrifying thing. The sheer repetitiveness of the pulling and droning is a lot to sit through and stomach at times, but when you push past the slower more uninviting moments on the album, you’re left with a refreshingly vulnerable and unique piece of work.
Cain manages to capture the feeling of both pleasure and perversion, exposing the darker desires of human nature. The grandeur of the album’s production holds a mirror up to its equally-haunting lyricism. The instrumental moments on the record peel away at our fears, immersing listeners in a truly terrifying world, while the lyrical moments on the record force us to confront our rawest feelings.
“Perverts” is nowhere near the relatability and appeal of “Preachers Daughter,” Sure both are moody, wholly atmospheric and caked in reverb. But while the latter lyrically dealt with the corruption of the church, the darkside of nuclear families and romance, “Perverts” mulls over the darkness present in ourselves, obliging her fans- once eager to condemn the evil and hate surrounding them to turn their pitchforks to themselves and confront the sins happening in ones on body and mind.
Now, it might not be what Cain’s fans wanted from her, but at a time where music has been commodified to a ten second clip, it might be just what they needed — a fully-formed piece of art to grapple with and internalize. And as Cain herself said, “If nobody likes it, it means I’m doing something right. I’m making something interesting.”
This story was written by Allison Scherquist. She can be reached at [email protected].
