REVIEW: Ethel Cain 11/02/22

A lifeless body lies still on the ground, center stage and bathed in blood-red lighting. Her long, brown, pin-straight hair spreads out beneath her on the stage as two men come forward to drape a white bed sheet over her. Over the speakers, the guttural screams and shrieking guitars of “Ptolemaea” fade to the dark and ambient “August Underground,” echoing and fizzling out as the silhouetted figure’s life does the same. The curtain closes: here lies Ethel Cain.

Storytelling, atmosphere and presence were at the heart of alternative singer-songwriter Ethel Cain’s show at The Fonda Theatre in Hollywood on Wednesday, Nov. 2. Cain delivered a special extended setlist, bringing her 2022 debut album Preacher’s Daughter to full realization and putting her vocal talent on breathtaking display.

Preacher’s Daughter, released in May, chronicles the story of Ethel Cain — the alias of Florida native Hayden Silas Anhedönia, but also a fictional character of her own invention. The record follows Cain’s journey through a string of torrid love affairs, the last of which ends with her lover kidnapping, murdering and cannibalizing her. For the first time ever, Cain performed Preacher’s Daughter in its entirety, leaning heavily into the album’s narrative and even acting out the album’s finale onstage.

The world of Cain’s music is hazy like a VHS tape or a parking lot under sweltering heat. Her songs live in creaky wooden houses, candlelit and swarmed by gnats. Drawing inspiration from her Southern Baptist upbringing, Cain’s lyrics and visuals turn religious motifs and American imagery on their head with a dark twist — but Cain doesn’t let form surmount substance. Her conceptual and aesthetic framework exist always to complement the emotional core of her music.

Cain felt acutely present throughout the show, and strikingly so during the cinematic eight-minute ballad “A House in Nebraska.” She delivered the song’s towering vocals with both technical prowess and emotional investment in its lyrics, which see Cain reflecting on a passionate former relationship.

“I feel so alone without you / I’m so alone out here,” she sang softly on the song’s outro, appearing close to tears. Cain then turned upstage, stretched out her arms and simply felt it. She stood still as sorrowful guitar riffs washed over her, her dedication intensifying the song’s grand lamentation of love lost.

During “Crush,” a fan-favorite from 2021’s Inbred EP, Cain descended to the front of the crowd and sang directly to audience members. “Good men die too, so I’d rather be here with you, you, you,” she sang, pointing to individual fans during each consecutive “you.” Twitter-literate and keenly aware of her cult following, Cain’s continuous audience interaction made the show feel both intimate and communal despite its moody tone.

Cain’s theatrical “death” took place towards the end of the show, but her story didn’t end there. The curtain rose again to Cain dressed in a vintage white gown, signifying her passage into the afterlife, and she performed Preacher’s Daughter’s final two tracks as an encore. The first, “Strangers,” is told from the perspective of Cain’s corpse, dismembered and stored in her killer’s freezer.

The second, “Sun Bleached Flies” shows Cain reflecting from beyond the grave: “What I wouldn’t give to be in church this Sunday / listening to the choir so heartfelt, all singing / ‘God loves you, but not enough to save you,’” she sang. That night, The Fonda Theatre was Cain’s own church, and the audience was her choir. Her seemingly hopeless declaration carried new meaning as it wafted over a chorus of voices: if God won’t save you, maybe music will.

- Fitz Cain
(no relation.)