Ethel Cain walked out on the Palais stage last night to rapturous adulation.
The first show of a sold out four night Melbourne run at the St Kilda theatre, Cain emerged from a haze of smoke and darkness to screams, stomps and thunderous applause. Over the past couple of years she’s developed a cult like following and we were here in force to worship at the temple of Mother Cain. The absolute outpouring of queer joy brought me to tears at one point as I took a moment to look around at the profound happiness emanating from so many people in that room.
There was lots of exciting chatter as the lights dimmed and the show looked set to start, this erupted as Ethel walked onto stage but dissipated into rapt silence the minute she began to sing. She held the crowd captivated as she weaved through songs from her catalogue, and for 90 minutes nothing else mattered. We forgot that the world sucks right now as we were drawn into the world of Willoughby Tucker.
I was actually surprised she opened with popular hits Sunday Morning and American Teenager. She had the crowd on their feet for the second song before everyone went back to being seated, and the obvious concern was she peaked too early. But the dynamic changes in the visuals and the overall versatility of her music allowed her to profoundly control the energy in the room to ensure this didn’t happen. Even the transitions between songs were meticulously curated so it felt like one long performance rather than a series of individual songs.
It’s difficult to convey how much this evening was about so much more than just her music. If she’d just been a girl on a stage singing some songs (à la Cameron Winter the week before) it wouldn’t have the same impact. Part of that is who she is, and what she represents. Her musical career in and of itself is an act of rebellion, of queer resilience and that’s so entangled in her songs and the way those stories hit that it fundamentally changes something about the evening’s experience.
Secondly, the overall show production took this from being just another concert to something more. It was a strikingly simplistic stage set up, with Cain centred, a cross in front of her and the band encircling her, filling the rest of the stage. Part way through the show a panel of fairy lights switched on across the front of the stage, but beyond this there was very little in terms of ongoing lighting or decoration. Strobe lighting blocks were dotted around the stage and used, alongside the smoke and Ethel’s movements to create a dramatic visual landscape accompanying each song. The result was incredible and it turned what could have easily been a visually unexciting show into something you couldn’t take your eyes off. It also added a further layer of being drawn into this other world – one where Ethel is holding all the controls.
It was a monumental end to a joy filled week of music. One I should have been far too exhausted to attend but incredibly grateful I didn’t miss.
Find out more about Ethel Cain here.