Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance
Within this song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a lodging close to JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton learns the devastating update of her father's cancer discovery. This Sunderland-born artist had been traveling America on her initial visit, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly sadness casts a shadow, coloring everything in grey. Faltering keys and soft strings underscore gothic dispatches from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's soft vocals come across with a flat manner, while the album's tension arises from the keen penmanship—blending stories, folksy sayings, and direct diary entries—coupled with surprising maximalism. Few tracks this year showcase stronger novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of a deer and descends toward a fuel-soaked confrontation, evoking written pieces lit with flickers of distorted strings. Tense, subdued sections featuring resonating, plucked guitar move to grand choruses, with her vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Listeners may previously know the artist from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and member in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect this varied career. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, as if a string band caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo via a punishing, stunning, looping drum fill. Dense walls of sound, skillfully produced by a long-term partner, feel both rough and spiritual, and her dark, enchanted thoughts culminate in standout "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.