No Album Left Behind: Sinner Get Ready Is Lingua Ignota’s Revenge Opera Against Abusers Hiding in the Shadows

The hard truth is, no matter how many albums we review each year, there are always countless releases that end up overlooked. That’s why, this month, we’re bringing back our No Album Left Behind series, in which the Paste Music team has the chance to circle back to their favorite underrated records of 2021 and sing their praises.
We tend to view most forms of art with diminishing returns. A life-changing film or album will only hold up for you through a sense of nostalgia for the first time it really rearranged your brain. But for Lingua Ignota’s game-changing third album Sinner Get Ready, context is key.
Ever since the release of her first album All Bitches Die, the project has been a cathartic artistic vessel in order for singer and songwriter Kristin Hayter to exorcise demons surrounding her thoughts on religion and her own experiences of sexual assualt and domestic abuse. From that album to her 2019 breakthrough Caligula, Hayter had mixed attributes of doom and black metal, kitchen-sink instrumentation of early no-wave and Berlin art-rock, a flair for classical composition, all with her astounding vocals that could at one moment send ripples through your skin with her intense shrieks and leave you breathless with her emotive, operatic pipes the next.
On Sinner Get Ready—her first release for Sargent House—she leans more into the droning classical, chant-based material from Caligula while introducing a more minimal, Appalachian-folk influences to her orchestrations. Rather than building over slow, ornate swells of strings, many of the songs use a similar arsenal that would be used to soundtrack the unceremonious roadside burial of a disliked bootlegger in the Prohibition era. On certain songs, you hear the death dirge of a church organ and the buzzing of bottles and chimes being clanged together with high frequency, while a muddy banjo thuds along as its chords are plucked out in slow motion. All of this could be a product of her environment while creating the album: After moving to a very rural and isolated region of Central Pennsylvania, Hayter became fascinated with the history of the Mennonite community there, which inspired her to mix some of the Gothic imagery into Sinner’s slow-bubbling cauldron. On first listens, the lyrical content and vocal presentation of the album show Hayter staging her own religious revenge opera, stepping in as the surrogate mouthpiece for both a cruel god and those pleading for justice from on high.
Throughout the album’s nine tracks, she strategically places audio of disgraced televangelist Jimmy Swaggart, who, after preaching a very fire-and-brimstone approach to the gospel, was caught in a series of scandals involving sex workers in the ’90s, resulting in a famed cue-the-waterworks televised confession. In press surrounding her album, Hayter has explained that she wanted the album to be a takedown of figures who maintain a righteous persona in their public lives, but were anything but when the shades were drawn. It was a tremendous narrative through line to dig into when the album was released back in August, but something shifted earlier this month when Hayter was invited as a guest on Anthony Fantano of The Needle Drop’s livestream for a lengthy interview.
In their talk, Hayter shed more light on something she had previously alluded to while interacting with fans on Twitter, which was that she had recently escaped a mentally, physically and sexually abusive relationship with Daughters frontman Alexis Marshall—allegations she later detailed in an extensive written statement. One horrific moment of abuse that she cited resulted in a back injury that required surgery. In her and Fantano’s discussion, Hayter explained that this horrific experience was the main source of pain that she tried to explore on Sinner. Not only was she looking to famous figures like Swaggart who are ingrained in pop culture when we think of snake oil salesmen, but she also used these intense meditations as a way to shine a light on a dangerous wolf who had been running around unchecked in our supposedly supportive musical community.