Ethel Cain’s ‘Perverts’: A Daring Journey Through Distortion and Brilliance

I’m uncertain if I truly intend it as a compliment when I express that Ethel Cain’s newest album, “Perverts,” left me feeling more disoriented and isolated than any audio experience I’ve encountered previously. 

On a sunny and vibrant Wednesday morning, as I sat in my room, I hit play on Cain’s latest project, and I wouldn’t be honest if I claimed my initial reaction wasn’t to turn it off immediately. This album somehow converted a familiar environment into an unrecognizable one, and I felt completely estranged from my surroundings — like a guest in my own residence. 

However, as I reflect further, and engage with the online discussions regarding this profoundly alienating work, I recognize that its unsettling and off-putting characteristics are precisely what render it so remarkable.

Given the album’s title, along with Cain’s acquaintance with the taboo — an EP and track entitled “Inbred,” alongside a cannibalism narrative in her debut album, “Preacher’s Daughter” — I would not claim that I was entirely unprepared to feel disturbed upon this project’s launch. Nevertheless, I had anticipated being unsettled by the lyricism and the storytelling rather than by nearly 90 minutes of pure ambient drone sound. 

The album didn’t resonate with me not due to its haunt, but because it missed my favorite aspect of Cain’s artistry: her lyricism. I wish to clarify that I did not expect “Perverts” to match “Preacher’s Daughter,” but I anticipated more than just three tracks featuring substantial lyrics and a melody. For me, achieving a balance between lyrical tracks and instrumentals is essential, and “Perverts”  inclined too heavily towards the latter. 

That being said, the lyrics that Cain incorporated into this album were characteristically stunning, elaborate, and thought-provoking. Cain excels at storytelling in her compositions, and while the narrative of this project isn’t nearly as intricate or linear as that of “Preacher’s Daughter,” “Perverts” shines in its capability to resonate with its listeners through diverse viewpoints, prompting them to question their convictions and moral stance. 

On the second track of the album, “Punish,” Cain adopts the voice of the perverted. 

She sings, “I am punished by love, / In the morning, / I will mar myself again / He was a natural Plauché / Saying ‘you won’t forget this / Shame is sharp / And my skin gives so easy’ / God only knows / Only God would believe / That I was an angel / But they made me leave.” 

In this section, and throughout the remainder of the song, Cain reflects on the essence of perversion, evoking a sense of empathy from her audience until they feel guilty and perverted for merely sympathizing. The subsequent two tracks, “Houseofpsychoticwomn” and “Vacillator” develop an increasingly terrifying soundscape until Cain resumes singing, overlaying distorted lyrics onto what is now a deceptively soothing instrumental.