Three years on from her 2022 debut, the Preacher’s Daughter has fallen from grace. Rather than softening god-fearing anthems behind a veil of ethereal gothic pop, Perverts foregoes the foreplay; in a tar-smeared drone of corrosive blasphemy and dark ambience, Ethel Cain nosedives into the haunting depths of a sexually tormented and guilt-ridden mind.
Perverts isn’t the kind of record you want to listen to in the dark. Its uncanny ambient whir scratches at your senses, never providing a moment of reprieve; every moment of ‘silence’ is tinged by a low hum background noise, as if something is always lying in wake, preparing to pounce. It’s a listening experience that feels perverted in itself, as if Cain is in the room, breathing down your neck, enjoying the paranoia she is forcing you to experience. Yet it also makes voyeuristic perverts of its listeners; as the opening title-track’s soundscape unfolds, long, droning pauses thick with tension, you slowly edge into desperation, longing for Cain to reveal her secrets.
While Perverts’ post-industrial buzz oozes shame, there’s an overwhelming sense of existential fear and resentment scattered throughout. Sometimes this fear manifests in neurotic pleas for salvation, with Housofpsychoticwomn’s murky, pulsating gloom spurred on by obsessive ‘I love you’s. Yet the record also feels like a purge of bitterness; on the 15-minute long Pulldrone, unnerving scrapes of violin amplify Cain’s obtuse mutterings, her gentle voice at one point asserting “Let me tell you how much I’ve come to hate you since I’ve began to live.” It’s at odds with surrounding professions of adoration, the disillusioned utterance hinting at a desire to denounce God.
Amidst the dark ambient purge on display, a few lighter moments are scattered throughout. The softer injections feel more in-line with Cain’s debut, such as lead single Punish’s echoing vocals.Vacillator is also a tender affair, instrumentals deliciously smooth as the ghost of a guitar riff floats in the background. The gentle contrast is almost paranoia-inducing – it’s like the flickering of a fluorescent light in a pitch black room, a sudden shock to the system.
If you’re eager for more of the dark Americana anthems on display throughout Preacher’s Daughter, you’re in the wrong place. Considering Cain has spoken out about people’s shallow interpretations of her art, it makes sense that Perverts refuses to stick to radio-friendly song structuring or and singalongs. If you’re hungry for some thick, distressingly dark ambience, Perverts might be the twisted sonic exorcism you’ve been waiting for.
