Lyrically Speaking: Exploring the horror of ‘Strangers’ by Ethel Cain
On her debut album, Preacher’s Daughter, Hayden Silas Anhedönia wrote the next great American gothic. Building her own world and lending her voice to the tragic figure of Ethel Cain, she stepped fully into character for a spine-tingling and devastating tale of generational and religious trauma. But as the album reaches its climax, heartache turns to horror. In the closing number, ‘Strangers’, the story is played out in all its gruesome glory.
Throughout the album, Cain invites listeners to engage with her narrative to whatever extent they prefer. Preacher’s Daughter offers a collection of standalone tracks, each addressing universal themes of love and loss with a unique artistic flair and Americana sensibility. However, when experienced from beginning to end, a rich tapestry of lore emerges, inviting listeners to immerse themselves fully in the story. Cain has openly discussed the album’s creation process, revealing that she used the character’s story as a means of confronting personal demons stemming from her upbringing in a strict religious sect. She describes the character as embodying the darker aspects of her own experiences, stating, “If I’m the good ending, she’s the bad one.”
Delving into the record’s lyrics and instrumental nuances, it unveils the harrowing journey of the character as she navigates the loss of her first love, escapes from home, and ultimately falls victim to being pimped into sex work and drugged by a man who later murders her. However, it’s in the track ‘Strangers’ that the true essence of the story comes to fruition. Serving as a five-minute-long prologue, Ethel Cain speaks from beyond the grave, offering a poignant and haunting perspective on the character’s tragic fate.
“In your basement I grow cold,” she begins. While earlier tracks ‘Ptolomea’ and ‘August Underground’ are made to soundtrack her death, ‘Strangers’ gives the character her voice back to tell the story. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment as she weaves lyrics of love and devotion with their darker double meaning. “Don’t talk to strangers or you might fall in love” is sung so sweetly as if this is a love song, threatening to distract you with rose-tinted affection as the next section grows scarier with the darkest of humour. “Freezer bride, your sweet divine, You devour like smoked bovine hide,” she sings to her murderer before adding the double-meaning one-liner, “How funny, I never considered myself tough”. It’s only in this moment that the true fate of Ethel Cain is revealed; she wasn’t just murdered, she was cannibalised.
The song plays on this line of devotion and distress perfectly. In doing so, Cain delves even deeper into the insidious nature of religious trauma, playing on the idea of the body of Christ in a way that merges pure horror and evil with a sense of romantic martyrdom.
This conflict is played out in the repetition of “I tried to be good, am I no good?” It’s a devastating final remark on this character’s life as even from beyond the grave, she grapples with the effect her staunchly religious upbringing has had on her. Even when suffering the worst thing possible, the song has a sad, begging voice as she still seeks approval or love as the good girl. “I just wanted to be yours,” she says over and over, ending on a heart-achingly tragic plea as her mission for love led her to a bloody death.
But interwoven with these pleas are darker revelations about her fate. As she asks, “Am I no good?” there’s a double meaning as her killer literally eats her rotten flesh. While asking, “Can I be yours?” Cain considers ownership in the most disgusting way as she adds, “If I’m turning in your stomach and I’m making you feel sick,” wondering if this crime is perhaps the ultimate display of belonging with someone as she now exists within her lover turned killer.
Throughout the song, love and grief churn like a stomach. The screaming breaks down as Cain begs, “Am I making you feel sick?” calling out to her killer as he consumes her, simultaneously dealing with the act of cannibalism and the question of whether he is disgusted by his own actions. The confrontation also feels like it glares out at the listener as well. As the climax to an album that deals with incredibly dark subject matters like abuse, paedophilia, prostitution and drugging, the bloody and brutal finale also seems to ask the listener if they, too, are disgusted.
As the screaming subsides and Ethel Cain seems to get the closest thing to catharsis she can without the ability to save herself, there is really only one thing left: acceptance. “Don’t think about it too hard, or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again,” she sings as the final comment on her story. From the afterlife or from that bloody basement, she gives her last words to her mother, “Mama, just know that I love you, and I’ll see you when you get here.” And with that, Ethel Cain is laid to rest.
