The Sinister Mastery of Shame

Ethel Cain: »Perverts«

To describe American Ethel Cain’s (Hayden Silas Anhedönia) stylistic shift from her debut Preacher’s Daughter (2022) to Perverts as an extreme U-turn would almost be an understatement. The distance from the debut’s gothic lo-fi pop to this monstrous work – combining dark ambient, noise, and dystopian ballads – is vast, all the while continuing Cain’s familiar reckoning with her religious upbringing and her struggle for sexual liberation.

On paper, Perverts is an EP running 89 minutes, but it feels like far more than that. Crushing noise drones, dusty piano strikes, and distant preacher voices from crackling radios are woven together with acoustic spaces. And although the record also contains more conventional ballads such as »Punish« and the beautiful »Vacillator« – which even features a clearly defined rhythmic progression – it is the long, epic ambient tracks that draw the listener into the often harrowing darkness.

One thing is that Cain suddenly makes dark ambient; another is just how good she is at it. Perverts is not only a profoundly unsettling insight into the friction between sexuality and religious fanaticism, but also an immediate, creative, and fully realized homage to a fascinating niche genre. A necessary album for anyone unafraid of the dark.

playlist

13.06.2023

My name is Allan Gravgaard Madsen – would you like to see my playlist?

»In his music, composer Allan Gravgaard Madsen tries to create a better version of himself.«

Allan Gravgaard Madsen is a Danish composer based in Copenhagen. His most recent works include Träume nicht and Nachtmusik. He tries to create a better version of himself in his music – where his personality tends to be restless, chatty and has an active inner life, his music is controlled, simple and merciless in its expression. He is the recipient of the Carl Nielsen & Anne Marie Carl-Nielsens Hæderspris 2022.

in briefrelease

23.01.2022

Finnish Space Travel

Tomutonttu: »Hoshi«

Vauva, 02.12

Kristoffer Møllegaard

The Finnish multimedia artist Jan Anderzén has, with the album Hoshi, released under the solo moniker Tomutonttu, created a true little star. Not only because »hoshi« literally means »star« in Japanese, but above all due to the music itself. There is something cosmic, yet infinitely minute, about the sonic worlds Anderzén conjures—like a galaxy reflected in a puddle, or a space journey in a rocket carved from a hollow tree trunk. Synths emit busy, warm blips and bloops, while ultra-short vocal and instrumental samples create a recognizable blur. At once artificial and organic – soft, rounded, jagged, crackling.

Anderzén approaches sound with a playfulness I simply adore. His music is strange in an incredibly comforting way. It places me in a kind of colorful, trance-like state, only interrupted when, several times over the course of the album, I find myself smiling in delight at a particularly great sound. The synths on »Katse osuu sähköön!« The choral samples on »Kesä oli äkkiä ohi!« Milo Linnovaara’s flute on »Malta lausua ‘AH’!« And many more. Hoshi is an album packed with microscopic moments that together form a frayed, exploding, radiant, idiosyncratic whole—a stellar moment of just under 38 minutes.