‘Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You’ by Ethel Cain - Album Review

Have you ever found your mind drifting to Ethel Cain’s debut album ‘Preacher’s Daughter’, and mused on who is the boy she dreams of a future with, but inevitably gets away in the song ‘A House in Nebraska’, the album’s third track?

Photo Credit: Silken Weinberg

‘Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You’, Ethel Cain’s, non-stage name Hayden Anhedönia, newest release, aims to clear some of the enigma. Although this is not Ethel Cain’s first album this year, as it follows the release of ‘Perverts’, the symphony of drones and gloomy ambience album (a true testament to the darker corner of her sound), it is a much-anticipated release, which marks Ethel Cain’s departure from her record label, AWAL.

The album acts as a prequel to ‘Preacher’s Daughter’, taking us back to May 2022, where we are first introduced to, and find ourselves alongside, our titular character, Willoughby. In an interview with Pop Cast, Anhedönia explained that the album would “close the chapter” on the Ethel Cain persona we’ve all grown attached to. 

During this appearance, and after posting a lengthy statement online prior to the interview, the artist further addressed recent controversies surrounding racist and offensive Tumblr posts from her teenage years, which she described as “deeply painful and embarrassing.” While acknowledging that her actions were inexcusable, she added, “For every bit of pain that you've caused, you have to try and atone for it. When I look at that person, I see someone who did not care about their life and did not care about what they said." Demonstrating how taking accountability is of utmost importance when confronted with the past re-circulating online.

To begin, the record opens with ‘Janie’, a classic shimmering electric guitar riff strumming on top of yearning vocals, imbuing an already anticipated heavy-on-the-heart album, “I know she’s your girl now / But she was my girl first,” she sings, a couplet that packs a punch to those of us who have before felt the slipping of our first platonic love.

Similarly to Anhedönia’s  aforementioned debut, the instrumental tracks on this record, titled ‘Willoughby’s Theme’, ‘Radio Towers’, and ‘Willoughby’s Interlude’, although leaving plenty to the imagination, have a clear-cut sonic throughline and frequent hums that are stormy displays of a loss of innocence and an excruciating heartbreak of what was/could have been if Ethel Cain hadn’t lost the love of her life and found herself meeting her demise and cannibalisation at the hands of a newfound lover in ‘Preacher’s Daughter’. And, navigating back to the core story, the song also reckons with the tornado that swept through the fictional town of Shady Grove. 

There’s an intentional imbalance between the lows and highs within this album, with the instrumentals carrying a lot of the heavier tones, contrasting with a standout alt-pop moment in ‘Fuck Me Eyes’, which feels particularly reminiscent of ‘American Teenager’.

‘Fuck Me Eyes’, the second single to be released in the album run, is a Lynchian synth-pop anthem, riddled with tumultuous emotions and pure envy coursing throughout. As Kim Carnes’ 1981 ‘Bette Davis Eyes’ serves as a main source of inspiration, the track’s subject matter is a commentary on the unspoken rule that women, in this case, a classmate of Cain’s — Holly Reddick — must uphold an alluring façade, quietly mirroring the experiences and tragedies of all the women that came before her. It paints a delicate picture of a girl innocently putting on her makeup as she tries to hold back her tears in fear of ruining her mascara, with a single ounce of vulnerability threatening to break through the cracks.

It’s hard to grapple with the belief that love remains triumphant, but the record’s first instalment, ‘Nettles’, bestows the melding of romance, disbelief and trepidation. These little vignettes of pure feeling, carried by trademark dreamlike guitars, matched perfectly with the blend of banjo, synthesisers, piano, and a pedal steel, set the scene of a compilation of premonitions in which Willoughby, the boy Cain grows to love, will pass on, leaving her to tussle with the stinging reality that she’ll never get her happily ever after, leading her to hold herself at arm’s length from those that cross her path.

‘Dust Bowl’, an already established fan-favourite with its slowcore demo, takes an initial young love and moulds it into something more intense and physically intimate with its shoegazey second half before things further crumble into a seamless fear-stricken tale with ‘A Knock At The Door’. Taking on a gentler approach, it somehow manages to conjure a deep sense of anxiety with its pick squeals and cries, as time takes hold of the doomed pair.

As we begin to pave our way to the album’s finale, accompanied by what could be the repetition of an echoing heart rate monitor within ‘Radio Towers’, it’s agonisingly obvious that Willoughby Tucker is a bittersweet fragment of the past, as death has sunk its teeth into the boy we have grown accustomed to. Before we face acceptance, we are granted a one-time perspective of Willoughby himself (as stated in the Genius’ analysis for ‘Tempest’). It’s a soul-crushing, desperate plea for the anguish to end, for the pursuit of peace to finally be over, and for a final homecoming; whether that be Heaven or the fantastical home in Nebraska. The drone-metal guitar in the track, and recurrent whimpers of the word “Forever”, only emphasise this further.

Knowing Cain’s fate, the 15-minute ‘Waco, Texas’ is nothing short of reinforcing. As her relationship shatters within her hands, acceptance appears to be the only choice in a bittersweet end. Reflecting on her memories, both the broken and sickly sweet, alongside reverberated guitars and the slow beating of drums, there’s a tension between forgiving oneself and continuing down the spiral of self-hatred. As the inner turmoil shifts, so do the instruments towards an all too familiar church-like piano and layered vocal harmonies. Love is complex, love is scary, love is an ugly sacrifice, and ultimately, love is co-dependent, but how can we move on without healing?

As we are reminded of ‘Televangelism’ and the penultimate track of ‘Preacher’s Daughter’, ‘Sun Bleached Flies’, we are confronting with the reality that perhaps. the recurring theme of the afterlife is what embracing the truth looks like. But one thing is certain: it’ll never be as beautiful as Willoughby Tucker.

‘Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You’ is out now on all streaming platforms.

Sonic Hub is aware of a recent controversy surrounding artist Hayden Anhedönia (Ethel Cain), following the resurfacing of racist statements made by the artist in the past. We want to acknowledge the pain and disappointment many of Cain’s fans felt upon reading these comments.

Sonic Hub is a Black-owned, queer-led publication and community hub that stands firmly against racism in all its forms. Cain has since taken accountability, and although the statements remain inexcusable, we believe her artistry can still be critically recognised and engaged with.

We also want to acknowledge the wave of transphobic hate directed at Cain which is equally inexcusable. Sonic Hub will always stand for trans rights. We remain committed to liberation, accountability, and to challenging systemic inequalities in the music industry, particularly within the press landscape.

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WORDS PIPER GAIR