Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Style
Within this song "Miss America", listeners find themselves in a hotel room near JFK airfield, as the musician learns the devastating update that her dad has illness discovery. The Sunderland-born performer had been traveling America on her initial visit, playing alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, coloring everything with melancholy. Faltering piano and hushed strings accompany gothic dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle vocals are delivered with a flat style, while the record's tension stems from her sharp writing—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—along with unexpected maximalism. Few tracks this year possess more potent novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of a deer and descends into a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of written pieces lit by glimpses of distorted strings. Tense, quiet sections featuring resonating, strummed guitar move to expansive choruses, and Walton's vocals electronically altered to become a presence omniscient and menacing.
Audiences may already be familiar with Walton as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on her varied background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, as if a string band taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo with an intense, beautiful, repeating percussion. Dense walls of sound, expertly produced by a long-term partner, feel both rough and ethereal, and Walton's morbid, enchanted thoughts peak on standout "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.