Since the release of her debut album, 2022’s ‘Preacher’s Daughter’, Ethel Cain has blown up. Hayden Anhedönia was almost too fascinating to not cross over. A trans woman from the American south, possessed of a natural mystique, she’s written grungy Americana songs from the perspective of a murder victim. She’s since sung with Florence + the Machine, modelled for Givenchy and Marc Jacobs and seen ‘American Teenager’ – a self-proclaimed “anti-war, anti-patriotism fake pop song” – included on one of Barack Obama’s playlists.
If you weren’t listening too closely to ‘Preacher’s Daughter’, the melodicism of her songwriting could mask the despair of the lyrics. On ‘Punish’, the lead single from her new project ‘Perverts’, out January 8, there is no such relief. Over a single piano chord progression, Cain paints a portrait of a woman “punished by love”, who can barely remember a time when she was innocent. The effect, across nearly seven minutes, is like sinking into an ice bath.
Positioned as a standalone work and not the follow-up to ‘Preacher’s Daughter’, ‘Perverts’ isn’t directly connected to the mythos of the Ethel Cain character. But it comes from the same fundamental place. The protagonists of Cain’s songs are at once confronting and denying their fates, believing they deserve almost biblical levels of suffering. “Nature chews on me / Little death like lead / Poisonous and heavy / It has always been this way”, she sings, embodying the anhedonia of her chosen name – an inability to experience pleasure, to the point of overwhelming numbness.
In the second verse, things only get worse. Cain sings, “In the morning / I will mar myself again / He was a natural plauché / Saying ‘you won’t forget this’”, seemingly referencing Gary Plauché, the man who fatally shot his son’s rapist on camera in the ’80s. The exact meaning is unclear: is she the victim, or being protected from an abuser? Cain’s lyrics clearly mean something very specific to her – but to a listener, their vagueness only makes them more unnerving.
On Tumblr, Anhedönia recently critiqued the ways in which irony and fandom culture have misinterpreted her work. ‘Punish’ isn’t a response, but it is true that the more minimal Cain’s lyrics, the less room there is to project onto her. In moments, you can perceive the thin line between her protagonists’ pain, and the deep sorrow and empathy with which she sings for them. There is less separation between the two than ever.
‘Punish’ is completely removed from any notion of Ethel Cain as a pop artist. It’s a devastating introduction to ‘Perverts’, which promises to be the first truly riveting release of 2025 – and perhaps one of the most terrifying.