It would be natural to view “Perverts”, the daring follow-up to Ethel Cain’s 2022 breakout “Preacher’s Daughter“, as a response to, and rejection of, everything about success that might register as noise, not least because it was accompanied by a Tumblr post entitled ‘The Consequence of Audience’. Preacher’s Daughter” amassed a fervent following, and “Perverts” no doubt poses a challenge to the segment of Cain’s audience that has trouble engaging with the artist’s persona in the absence of unambiguous lore and soaring melodies. Yet the 90-minute project – released at the start of the year but hardly overshadowed by the proper album that succeeded it – doesn’t feel like a departure so much as an opportunity for Hayden Anhedönia to home in on the esoteric darkness she holds a deep reverence for, the eerie dissonance and muffled silences that were seen tangential rather than core to her song writing.
Though its nine tracks are almost 90 minutes long, “Perverts” isn’t an actual album, according to its creator. Rather, this drone-inspired record that scared, confused, and put off a lot of Ethel Cain’s fans upon its release in January is an experimental sideshow that has nothing to do with her 2022 debut, “Preacher’s Daughter”, nor the two forthcoming records that will complete that narrative trilogy. Except, of course, for the fact that Cain is behind it. The project is a starkly haunting, harrowing, and challenging piece of music that transports the listener into a wholly unrecognizable world from that of “Preacher’s Daughter” (as well as from the singles we’ve heard so far from next month’s “Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You” LP). Especially early on during the eerie, old-timey introduction of the opening title track and the periods of near-but-not-quite silence that follow over the song’s 12 minute run-time, it feels like you’re in the pitch black of a horror film or video game, such is the visceral sense of dread and unease that underlines this record. Yet there are (very necessary) moments of sublime and poignant beauty, too. It all makes for a demanding but immensely rewarding listen that marks Cain out as a truly incredible, iconoclastic talent.
If her new year’s resolution was to up her game in terms of productivity then Hayden Anhedonia, known professionally as Flordia’s Ethel Cain, has certainly achieved that. At the time of writing, we’ve not even reached summer solstice 2025, and we’re gearing up for her second record this year, following on from the ambient/noise/drone release, “Perverts“. This latest album is, however, a bigger deal in Ethel Cain folklore as it’s billed as a prequel to the record that made her a household name in indie: “Preacher’s Daughter“. If you’re into rare merch, this copy has something worth framing on your wall included with it in the shape of a limited edition art print. And given the stature of the album to come, it’ll be merch worth hanging onto. Of the highlights on the tracklist, ‘Nettles’ is stunning, with the instrumentals an aural hug: comforting yet tear jerking and her voice knockout Americana of the highest order.
The Fat Angel Sings 