Ethel Cain opens her freshman album, Preacher’s Daughter, ominously singing, “These crosses all over my body remind me of who I used to be” — fitting lyrics for the record inspired by Cain’s elaborate relationship with God.
The concept album contains gospel, pop, and alternative rock. It centers around a young woman grappling with the religious confines of her upbringing, her relationships with unfavorable men, and her ultimate demise – as she is murdered and cannibalized by her lover. Songs like “American Teenager,” which contains Lana Del Rey-esque melodies, and “Ptolomea,” congruous with a nightmarish fever dream, leave you questioning: What must I do to repent for my sins?
Formally known as Hayden Silas Anhedönia, Cain grew up in Tallahassee, Florida, to a Southern Baptist family. While grappling with the church’s parochial ideals surrounding her trans identity, she put her energy into creating music. In 2021, she broke into the music industry with her EP, Inbred, and worked with artists such as Florence and the Machine and Lil Aaron. However, until Preacher’s Daughter, Cain garnered a cult following of taxidermy-loving, self-proclaimed fans with an eye for the Southern Gothic aesthetic.
Cain herself stated, “Daughters of Cain are girls that bite. Girls that think mildew and rot smells good.”
Anthony Intili, a third-year student at Lang, takes his role as a daughter of Cain seriously. He began listening to Cain in December after encountering Mother Cain’s “shitposts” on X. Intili even took the time to dissect all 13 tracks on “Preacher’s Daughter,” including instrumentals such as “August Underground” and “Televangelism.”
“I looked up all the lyrics and then analyzed them all,” he shared. “Yeah, that’s what I do in my free time.”
The concept of “Caincore” arose on TikTok around December 2022. The hashtag consists of female fatale fan edits and fit checks containing at least one type of Catholic paraphernalia, most frequently, a rosary. Fans post videos of themselves singing the lyrics to Cain’s sexy ballad, “Crush,” or mouthing the guttural scream in “Ptolomea.” The concept has also evolved to memes – from an audio using pictures of Kim Kardashian in “prairie” garb with Cain’s “House in Nebraska” playing in the background (see TikTok: “me when I drink out of a mason jar,”) to the trending audio: “Are you wearing that sweater in an Ethical Cain vinyl way?
The popularity of the Caincore subculture can be accredited to TikTok, with her fanbase expanding due to the niche spaces that the app holds. One could look at other artists that arose to fame within the past two decades and have built fanbases on niche subcultures, from Lana Del Rey’s “All American” Bad Girls to Nicki Minaj’s famed “Barbs.” However, neither have the niche, literal cult-like following of Cain.
To Intilli, Caincore encapsulates the Southern Gothic genre, which consists of” wood-paneled walls” and a “twisted sense of spirituality.” It is an example of how fans’ parasocial relationships with musicians shape their aesthetics. However, the grimy aesthetic differs from that of a Swiftie. Daughters of Cain are girls that bite while feigning innocence in their Gunne Sax dresses and three-strand braids. They are “the weirdos, mister.”
Cain’s ethereal, sexy, and outright disturbing album leaves fans in awe, while others express a need to crawl out of their skin. Caincore symbolizes overcoming the regressions from restrictive upbringings, whether the traditional values instilled at church, in the home, or within your community – reshifting trauma to growth.
“God loves you but not enough to save you,” Cain croons in “Sun-Bleached Flies.” Perhaps, she is our 21st-century messiah.