Album Review: Willoughby Tucker, I'll Always Love You

Published on 11 August 2025 at 12:00

An Album That Makes YOu Remember Why You Fell In Love With Music In The First Place

Once you dive into even a single Ethel Cain song in depth, there is no going back. Crafted with care, deep empathy and utmost love and passion for each of her characters, Cain has proven time and time again, that she is as much of an author as she is a talented musician. Her debut album, Preacher’s Daughter, tells the story of the fictional Ethel Cain and carefully explores sensitive topics like generational trauma, abuse and cannibalism, all wrapped into a haunting Southern Gothic aesthetic. It’s not just music; it’s cinema for the ears.

If you are unfamiliar, this is where the album left off: Ethel Cain, daughter of an abusive preacher, is on the run after her boyfriend robs a bank. She gets picked up by a man called Isaiah, who drugs her and coerces her into sex work. He ultimately kills and cannibalises her in the devastating climax track “Ptolemaea”.

Her latest album, Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You, isn’t a sequel to Ethel’s story, but rather a prequel, set around five years before the events of Preacher’s Daughter. It centers on her grand love: Willoughby Tucker. The relationship between Ethel and Willoughby was first hinted at on the Preacher’s Daughter track “A House in Nebraska”, which radiates youthful love and longing.

Now, through this new album, fans finally get another glimpse into the ever-expanding world of Ethel Cain, and her relationship with Willoughby specifically. He seems to be the only good thing in her life – her anchor, her one true love, and a good man. But of course, darkness looms. The story unfolds through gut-wrenching twists and questions are never truly answered, it seems. But let’s start at the beginning.

The album starts with “Janie”, who is Ethel’s best friend. The song is sad. And vulnerable. Ethel doesn’t just talk about losing her best friend, but almost prophetically summarizes her eventual fate.
“I can see the end in the beginning of everything / and in it, you don’t want me / but I still play pretend like I don’t watch you leaving” is a devastating run of lyrics, knowing in the end of the events of Preacher’s Daughter, she neither has Janie, nor Willoughby around.

The next track is one of three interludes - “Willoughby’s Theme”. Reminiscent of Laura Palmer’s theme in Twin Peaks, Willoughby gets his own sonic identity through both this theme, and his interlude later in the album.

“Fuck Me Eyes” introduces yet another character, Holly Reddick. And Holly, through Ethel’s eyes, suffers the all too familiar fate of being a sexually liberated teen girl in a small conservative town. She is everything Ethel hates but simultaneously wants to be. She is convinced that Willoughby is interested in Holly, which is the root of her envy.
“I’ll never blame her, I kinda hate her / I’ll never be that kind of angel / I’ll never be kind enough to me” shows how it isn’t even really about Holly, but Ethel’s general self-hatred and insecurities.

After this, we are immediately thrown into the most lyrically dense song on the album - “Nettles”. Here, we are told the entire story of how Ethel and Willoughby grew up together and it touches on existential dread.
“It wasn’t pretty like the movies / It was ugly like what they all did to me” foreshadows the discussion of her childhood trauma stemming from the abuse in Preacher’s Daughter. But most of all, it is a declaration of utmost love to Willoughby. With the song finding its climax in Ethel singing “This was all for you”, we are once again reminded, that he was her great love, and is woven through both albums like a thread that ties them together.

The second interlude, “Willoughby’s Interlude”, marks a tonal shift. From here on the album gets significantly darker. It is moody and sinister, perhaps alluding to Willoughby’s eventual death.

In “Dust Bowl”, a fan favourite that has existed as a demo since 2022, we learn more about Willoughby’s background. A lot of the lyrics suggest that this might be some sort of eulogy. But what we definitely now know, is that Willoughby’s father fought in the Vietnam War and there was some form of abuse present in his childhood. We also learn that Willoughby wanted to be a writer, but was confined to his hometown. The track itself is a powerhouse, with a drop that creeps up on you until it eventually erupts – a masterclass in tension and release.

“A Knock At The Door” is undoubtedly the softest and calmest track on the entire album. Ethel is vulnerable, with “Everything I’ve loved / I’ve loved it straight to death”, she turns her grief into self-hatred, that leads to her eventual self-destruction later in her story.

The final interlude is “Radio Towers”, which incorporates hospital noises into a more Perverts-style soundscape. Given that the official visualiser shows a tornado drawing closer and this is the only instrumental track that is not named after Willoughby, we can be certain he is gone by this point. It is a contemplative song, that feels like suffocating. And it is absolutely brilliant.

With “Tempest”, the album now gets the darkest it has been yet. This song feels like “Ptolemaea”, but from Willoughby’s perspective, a tipping point, where all hope for a better future is completely abandoned. It echoes sentiments from “Family Tree (Intro)”, both in lyrics like “Do you swing from your neck / With the hope someone cares?” but also in the sound itself. The ending of the track is haunting – “I’m gonna regret this” and then the repeated “forever” twenty-one times. It is truly bleak, and hopeless, but it is precisely this, that makes it into a clear stand out on the record.

The final track, with a runtime of roughly fifteen minutes, is “Waco, Texas”. WT – Willoughby Tucker – is both a place and a person. It acts as a summarising track to end the story with. We could quote the entire song here, because every lyric feels delicately chosen to represent the story of the both. But, “I’ve been picking names for our children / You’ve been wondering how you’re gonna feed them / Love is not enough in this world / But I still believe in Nebraska dreaming / Cause I’d rather die than be anything but your girl”, is a devastating callback to “A House in Nebraska” where their story began.

You can truly find everything in Cain’s new album: from heartfelt ballads, stunningly composed instrumentals, to intimate and raw lyrics that feel like diary entries. She expands her universe with precision and grace, proving once again that her artistry knows no bounds.

The cohesiveness of the entire album from lyrics, callbacks to her debut album and her sound are a true testament to her brilliance. The way Cain manages to create this universe not only lyrically, but also sonically is incredible and fascinating.

This is not an album you casually listen to. Or shuffle. And it makes sense where other publications may deduct stars from their rating, because three instrumentals is a lot, especially considering they make up about 17 minutes of the whole album, but they are without a doubt brilliantly placed and essential to the experience.

Cherry Rock Magazine luckily scored tickets to go and see Ethel Cain in concert later this year, so stay tuned for our coverage of the gig.

Have you listened to the album yet? Let us know what you think!

M. Müller, 2025