Do You Not Get the Concept? // Cannibalism to go with your changing seasons

With the change in weather — dropping temperatures, orange leaves and surprise drizzles — it’s easy to say that winter is on its way. With it comes my love for alternative and indie music. Not to say that I don’t listen to artists like Hozier and Phoebe Bridgers year round, it’s just something about their music that makes the lethargic feeling that accompanies the dreary conditions outside a little bit more bearable. 

One of my favorite cold-weather albums is Ethel Cain’s “Preacher’s Daughter.” The album follows a fictional woman named Ethel Cain, raised in Nebraska in a restrictive religious community. As she discovers her family’s dark history and oppressive beliefs, Ethel Cain travels away from home and falls in love, only for the love interest to die. Cain then goes on to marry a man named Isaiah, only for her new husband to drug Cain and eat her — the album ends with her grappling with her soul going to hell for abandoning her family in the first place. 

I would trade just about anything to experience this album again for the first time. Ethel Cain’s use of electric guitar and her lashing lyricism is extraordinary. Her ability to tell the story is so mind-blowing that I almost didn’t believe what I was listening to the first time around.

The first song I want to talk about is “American Teenager.” The song itself is upbeat and poppy, accompanied by an addicting electric guitar melody and dance-inducing drum groove. The lyrics themselves are anything but happy — a strange combination with the instrumental. Cain talks about growing up religious and grappling with the hypocrisy in her community. Her “neighbor’s brother came home in a box / but he wanted to go, so maybe it was his fault.” Cain can’t help but empathize with the boy who had escaped the town at the cost of his life. She starts the chorus singing “Say what you want, but say it like you mean it / with your fists for once,” haunted by her dad’s indirect criticism and violent upbringing. The sad lyrics and upbeat melody can’t help but reflect the tendency to hide issues within the religious community, particularly mental health issues, as Cain herself struggles in her hometown.

The next track, “A House in Nebraska,” talks about Cain’s relationship with a man after she leaves her hometown. The song opens with reverbed piano chords and a longing achy feeling as Cain thinks about her former hometown. Homesick, “I still call home that house in Nebraska,” as she lays with her new partner. Devoted to each other but happy, he promises “even if we died tonight, that I’d die yours.” But her partner passes away in the middle of the song, and she’s left chanting “I feel so alone” as she struggles, far away from her home. 

The third track I want to talk about is “Ptolemaea,” far down in the album at track nine. After Cain marries, she is murdered and eaten by her husband, Isaiah. The song takes place as she goes to hell, following her rage and betrayal at Isaiah, whom she “invited… in / twice” only to be eaten. 

The song itself has a very different feel, with the faint sound of buzzing flies and haunting repeated vocals that are almost dissonant. The entire piece is haunting and terrifying. With distorted vocals, Cain cries out “stop,” violent rage and begging as she spirals out of control. 

The last song on the album I want to talk about is “Sun Bleached Flies,” the 11th and second-to-last song on the album. The song itself is about forgiveness and acceptance, as Cain comes to terms with her past, the abuse she faced and the trauma she endured. 

“God loves you, but not enough to save you” is the line that jumps out the most as Cain works through regrets of her past. Free from the restrictive life she faced, Cain comes to terms with the religious trauma she faced. 

Ethel Cain’s lyricism and worldbuilding, to me, have been unmatched in any other album to date. The storyline is creative and haunting. Having it paired with the insane detail of the instrumental makes it easy to fall in love with both the album and Ethel Cain as an artist. 

Maybe “Preacher’s Daughter” is too spooky as we approach the holiday season, but the chilling lyrics, haunting theme and longing instrumentals pair perfectly with the cold rainy weather as December nears. There’s so much of the storyline I couldn’t talk about, so if you ever listen to any album I talk about on this series, it has to be this one.