Hayden Anhedönia is an artist through and through. The 27-year-old visionary has written at length about the frustration of having everything she does turned into a joke on the internet for the sake of a meme. She’s taken accountability for a problematic past while recognizing that the majority of the people attacking her are not doing it in good faith. She stood her ground when Republicans tried to take her down after she called for the assassination of more CEOs. She dropped a 90-minute ambient EP and a 55-minute meditation within weeks of each other. Now she’s back with her second official album as Ethel Cain, Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You.
Willoughby Tucker — which Anhedönia says will “close the chapter” on the Ethel Cain persona — conceptually serves as the prequel to her 2022 debut Preacher’s Daughter, whose explorations of gothic Americana transformed her into an alt-pop sensation, for better or for worse. Much like her even more famous peer Chappell Roan, she’s not afraid to set boundaries with fans and point out certain behavior — like acting disrespectful to each other at shows — as unacceptable. January’s Perverts operated as a testament to her commitment to the dark, unconventional side of her sound despite her fame; instead of the glamor and catchiness of “American Teenager,” the EP consisted of slow-burners and ominous drones; only some songs featured vocals.
The instrumentals on this record, “Willoughby’s Theme” and “Willoughby’s Interlude,” come from that same place. Upon the release of the lead single “Nettles,” Cain shared that she hunted down the synths Angelo Badalamenti used for the iconic Twin Peaks soundtrack; the influence of that body of work can be heard in these songs specifically, which add layers of atmosphere to the story the same way “Twin Peaks Theme” and “Laura Palmer’s Theme” did in the show. The revelatory progression of “Willoughby’s Theme,” which is only the second track, feels like watching mist descend over a morning.
The story starts in 1986 and focuses on a high school breakup between the character Ethel Cain and her boyfriend Willoughby Tucker. “Janie” is a mesmeric opener, harkening back to her earlier days, specifically her 2019 EP Golden Age when she sampled post-hardcore band Title Fight’s “Head In The Ceiling Fan” riff for “Head In The Wall.” “Janie” is also anchored by sparse emo chords, and the first lines are urgent: “Hold me, smell of mildew/ I wanna die in this room.” The song ascends into a heavenly place when she jumps from alto to soprano; her deep tones have an alluring edge to them, but it’s in higher, more fragile pitches where she can command a room and cast a spell. When she lulls “I know she’s your girl now/ But she was my girl first,” it’s so devastating that it’s hard to believe it’s only the beginning of the album.
The previously released singles “Fuck Me Eyes” and “Nettles” fall after the sweeping “Willoughby’s Theme.” They both stood wonderfully on their own yet have even more of an impact in the context of the LP. The controlled synth-pop bombast of “Fuck Me Eyes” keeps that Twin Peaks connection going. The song has the bright texture and riveting melodrama of standout moments on the show, capturing a kind of high school excitement — a football game, a prom — that seems big enough to eclipse everything else in the world. The vibrant youth in that track is immediately followed by twangy wisdom with “Nettles”: “We were in a race to grow up/ Yesterday, through today, til tomorrow,” Cain opens the track reminiscing, her voice joined by banjo, fiddle, pedal steel, and plenty more instruments that provide an endearing air of sentimentality.
It’s safe to say Cain’s lyrics have never been at this level. Her storytelling was part of why Preacher’s Daughter blew up, but the scenes have never been so vivid and poetic: “Drive-in slasher flick again/ Feeling me up as a porn star dies/ He’s watching me instead/ Eighth grade death pact strike me dead,” she drawls on the colossal “Dust Bowl.” A crescendo like a whirlwind proves the title’s purpose. In a strikingly candid fashion, she defines love in terms of pain: “I knew it was love/ When I rode home crying/ Thinking of you fucking other girls.”
“Dust Bowl” is the kind of power ballad you can imagine prompting screams in a packed arena, but it’s not the only one. The already intense emotions build as the end of Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You approaches, the stakes rising, everything falling apart, death summoned frequently. The bleak yet soaring 10-minute “Tempest” and the 15-minute finale “Waco, Texas” are just as big and moving. “Everything I’ve loved/ I’ve loved it straight to death,” she confesses on the former. “Waco, Texas” captures the madness of watching someone you love walk away for the last time. The spiral thoughts, questions, regrets, self-loathing. Cain’s re-creations of tumultuous moments are unsettlingly accurate, plunging into the depths of despair with no obligation to provide a happy ending or hope of any sort.
Preacher’s Daughter made it clear that Cain had carved out her own place in music and would likely stay for a while. Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You portrays her devotion to using her rising status to become even better. Her mission will not be swayed by any external factors; her art exists entirely in another world, and we’re lucky we get to experience it with her.
Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You is out 8/8 via Daughters Of Cain.
