Ethel Cain
Apollo, Manchester
2nd October 2025

The opening night of the Willoughby Tucker Forever European tour is an exercise in emotional ferocity

To be in the room on the opening night of Ethel Cain’s biggest European tour to date is to observe an inescapable truth; the paradigms of pop stardom have shifted. Historically, music of the type that Cain makes does not inspire huge teen followings; the 27-year-old takes the standard blueprint for confessional singer-songwriter fare and cloaks it thickly in the brooding southern gothic atmosphere of her Floridian upbringing, then stretches it out by imbuing it with moody, slowcore stylings. Her songs reward patience, unfurling their sonic and thematic landscapes slowly. You are not likely to hear anything from her second full-length album, Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You, on the radio.

And yet, this two-night stand at the 3500-capacity Apollo sold out in minutes, and fans have been braving inclement Ardwick weather since noon in the hope of a spot on the barrier. What Cain’s take on pop lacks in hooks and melody, it makes up for in an all-encompassing emotional intensity. When she takes the stage tonight – one littered with tall grasses and hanging vines evocative of he rural south of her upbringing – she takes up position behind a huge wooden cross, delivering her songs as if they’re a sermon, from the pulpit.

She has more than earned the right to this kind of iconography; as a transgender woman from a Baptist family, she has walked through fire and brimstone to be here, delivering songs replete with unvarnished emotional truths. This is a show on her own terms, incorporating delicate, breathy alt-folk (Nettles, Janie) and gorgeous slow-burn ambience (Dust Bowl). There is a hazy quality to her sound that renders her songs like far-off memories, particularly when she introduces a couple of songs mid-set from her droney curveball of a second LP, Perverts; the feel of these tracks then bleeds into the songs that follow, particularly a dreamy Radio Towers.

What’s remarkable is how captivating it all is; there are no big theatrical flourishes in terms of either the music or the staging, but there is real drama running right through this set, an emotional tumult to the lyrics that is in contrast to her still, shadowy presence behind the cross. Subtle lighting does much of the work, occasionally bathing her in an orange glow that suggests she is surrounded by flames. She closes the main set with Waco, Texas, a pretty, glacially paced drift through Cain’s consciousness that runs to fifteen minutes. The crowd is utterly rapt throughout.

If anything, the encore breaks the spell a little; there are big, bouncy pop singalongs to Crush and American Teenager, the tracks that really put her on the map. She has left that sound behind now, instead taking us to a place that David Lynch – who, according to his daughter, spent time listening to Perverts in his final days – would describe as both wonderful and strange. Tonight seemed to prove that the more avant-garde Cain’s music becomes, the more intense the emotional truths she uncovers. Crucially, her audience are very much along for the ride.

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Ethel Cain can be found at her website | Facebook | and Instagram

Words by Joe Goggins: find him on X here

Photos by Mike Gray: find him on Instagram here