Few contemporary albums have changed my life quite like “Preacher’s Daughter.” While I had initially listened because of some unfair Lana Del Rey comparisons, I stayed once I realized what the larger vision was. Even if I have been at best bent-arms’ length from the fan base, there has been curiosity to see what she will do next. In that time, she’s embraced the Southern Gothic tradition and gone far more esoteric than you’d think someone whose “American Teenager” was considered an offshoot of early Taylor Swift’s Americana imagery. Recent singles suggest her songwriting skills are as strong as ever, but that is to ignore everything else.
I am thrilled that “Preacher’s Daughter” has caught on as much as it has. The fact that she currently has over three million monthly listeners on Spotify is another optimistic note, along with several sold-out dates for her upcoming tour. Even the promise of her vinyl pressing of said record charting high on Billboard gives me faith that we’re in for a fairly exciting weekend when “Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You” drops tomorrow. Her maximalist music is as uncompromising as her political opinions, and one can assume she’ll push the narrative, possibly reaching an even wider audience than what her debut offered.
As I get in the headspace necessary for an Ethel Cain record, I realize one glaring omission on my part. Despite having a deep-seated passion for her work, I am realizing that I never wrote an essay about “Perverts.” I’m sure that I’ve referenced it elsewhere, but never as the locked-in focus that I would give her traditional albums.
This could, in theory, be because it’s an unconventional record. Labeled as an E.P., “Perverts” is a drone album that a recent Popcast interview with the artist questioned as to whether it was a troll move. There’s no way to discuss it without admitting that it’s one of the most radical pivots that an artist could make after jumping immediately to fame – let alone someone who has been selling their albums as a continual narrative. There is no marketable single. I’m sure some tracks could be salvaged for live performance, but “Perverts” is more driven by the immersive experience that no level of theatricality could emphasize the sublime discomfort. If anything, it would make the audience look awkwardly at each other as they feel something unpleasant and unseen attacking their soul. The constant droning may help to drive away casual fans who make poor taste jokes about cannibalism, but to what end?
I think of "Perverts" in the same box as Andre Benjamin’s “New Blue Sun.” While being interviewed about his career pivot from hip-hop into ambient flute music, Benjamin said that he needed to have the passion to create again. It may be why the record led to several Grammy nominations, including Album of the Year. It may also be why audiences have felt inspired to create their own art. I can’t imagine what a full listen of Outkast into “New Blue Sun” will sound like, but I have to assume it’s like a car screeching to a halt to look at something on the side of the road. The spectacle may have been worth the pivot, but everyone around them is waiting for everything to get back in motion.
Cain, meanwhile, doesn’t feel quite as jarring. “Perverts” is not a record that I revisit often, nor do I have tracks that linger in my mind to the same frequency. It’s anti-pop through and through, but this side of her music has always been there. I think back to the song that converted me, “A House in Nebraska,” and how the lingering atmospheric touches were more overwhelming than anything she sang. Go further into the record with "Ptolemea," and there are these long musical passages that encourage you to get lost in the orchestration. While it has more of a conventional Midwest sound, it was still accused of being overlong. Add in that Cain’s regular music recommendations feature artists even more entrenched in the drone genre, and you’ll understand that “Perverts” may not be that different from “Preacher’s Daughter.” It’s just a much more internal, visceral record that doesn’t often guide you through its meditations and frustrations.
The other recurring motif, and the one that ultimately makes “Perverts” an essential listen for fans, is that it continues the study of religion. Whereas “Preacher’s Daughter” was more of a sprawling character study, “Perverts” zooms in painfully so on a moment. The listener is trapped inside this person’s body, and Cain’s ability to understand the psychological way in which guilt lives within the body. It’s the way the lyrics are often repetitive and distant, where the droning reflects an isolation and loneliness at times we wish to escape. Certain phrases return, as if in an effort of repentance and a call to be a better person. It’s the effort to be cured of being a pervert, but realizing no matter how much you try, the biological urges control you. It’s Catch-22. Your natural urges will hate you if you choose the devout life. Your community will hate you if they even think that you’re masturbating.
The judgmental nature draws the listener further into states of dissociation. There is nothing there to comfort. No official melody from “Preacher’s Daughter.” The best that can be said is that Cain does sing more classical hooks here and there, but they’re the equivalent of finding a rock while floating down a busy river. You’ll have a few moments of relief before you realize how far you are from security. There is something beautiful about Cain serving as a saving grace during these moments. Also, for those who weren’t aware how close we were to “Willoughby Tucker,” it was the chance to remind audiences that even if she became a polarizing figure, Cain hadn’t totally abandoned her knack for good songwriting.
Despite her antipathy towards irony, reading “Perverts” as a middle finger to expectations is wonderful. It’s an artful exercise that immerses the listener into something far more surreal than “Preacher’s Daughter.” Even then, the provocation is not in the lyrical passages. It’s in the way the obtuse percussion pulsates while the grating buzzes make one question the concept of time. This is an artist less interested in viability and more in following her passion. It’s asking audiences to trust her as she takes risks that are objectively more challenging than a performer transcending genres just to reach a wider audience. I’m still curious to know if “Perverts” appears on anyone’s Top 10 of 2025, just because it feels like the record one needs a long shower for afterwards.
I’m more than confident that “Willoughby Tucker” will be more accessible for me. I’ll probably be playing it well into The Fall and memorizing every small exchange. With that said, Cain’s appeal is largely her reliance on vocalizing internal experiences. She is someone whose themes are indebted to religious guilt, of shame and trauma, and the struggle they can give the people embodying them. Every time I press play, you recognize the tortured spirit and the catharsis that comes with the harmonies and the musical passages where a different kind of anguish lies. It’s where the harmonies of moans and cries reflect the greater weight of psychological abuse.
It may also be why the most haunting track on “Perverts” for me is “Housofpsychoticwomn” where a distorted voice cries “I love you” for several minutes on end. Rarely have three words, without provocation, altered in my head so often. The phrase is supposed to be comforting, and yet as the pitch lowers, it becomes haunting, at times reminiscent of the mundane eeriness of Skinamarink (2022), where we’re face to face with ambiguity. We’re trapped with this disembodied phrase, forced to question its greater meaning. Given how judgmental other lyrics on the album are, it’s easy to sow doubt the longer things go on. As the title suggests, it’s about trying to find meaning in something that is ultimately interpretive. The drones do little to inform the mood, save the sense that there’s no escape from your own interpretation.
Again, I don’t revisit this record often. I also think it’s far more opaque than her other work and thus is likely to hit every listener differently. I’m not someone who knows the history of drone music and may mostly gravitate towards Cain and “Peverts” because of familiarity. She offers more that is artful and introspective. The discussion of religion within the framework also helps this to feel like an assault on the senses. Sure, it may seem radical to those who saw Barack Obama choosing “American Teenager” as one of his favorite songs and thought she was happy-go-lucky, but that’s to ignore the depth that an average lyric carries. This is a vision of the Midwest that can be very isolating… and not in the fun Chappel Roan way. Cain sings like the weight is burying her, and she’s crying for help. “Perverts” may as well be what happens when the body is finally submerged.
As I mentioned towards the start, I am bent-arms’ length from the fan base. I love “Preacher’s Daughter” and have regularly watched her videos to better understand her perspective. I do admire how uncompromising she is, where she’ll openly discuss the aesthetics of gay porn or supernatural occurrences. There is a genuine nature that transcends her work, and I don’t think I can fully appreciate it as a Californian. Ethel Cain is, at best, a major reason I love this country and hate to imagine that people want to divide and even eradicate its identity. I respect if “Perverts” is not a record you like. However, I’ve always felt that the world was better for artists taking risks and challenging the sonic potential of expression. There is a need to keep that spirit alive, and it’s a major reason that I’m looking forward to “Willoughby Tucker.” There is something powerful about having music connect to your soul and realizing that the deep emotions are latching onto something unexplained. I experienced that with “Preacher’s Daughter,” and I pray that Cain never loses her passion.
In the same Popcast interview, she discusses how she refuses to move to a more urban environment, believing that being close to the well will keep her creativity thriving. Again, I’m unsure what is out there, but it’s clearly working for her. It’s giving her a chance to make some art that may only speak to a handful of people, but it also has the chance to exceed expectations. Frankly, I’m still surprised she has as big of a fan base as she does. Her hard work has paid off. Despite her flaws, she continues to find ways to make her art feel meaningful. “Perverts” may not be a pleasant example of that, but those who truly understand what it’s going for may leave the 90-minute experience changed. I’m unsure if it’s for the better, but it’s still unlike anything else that is likely to come out anytime soon.
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