Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
Within this song "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a lodging close to JFK airfield, as the musician receives a devastating update of her father's illness diagnosis. The Sunderland-born performer was touring the US for the first time, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief takes over, coloring all with melancholy. Unsteady piano and soft strings accompany gothic dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her gentle singing come across with a flat manner, yet the record's tension stems from her sharp writing—mixing fiction, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Few tracks this year possess more potent storytelling flair than "Shelly", which depicts the death of a deer and descends into a petrol-laden confrontation, evoking written pieces illuminated with flickers of distorted cello. Tense, quiet verses featuring echoing, strummed strings transition to expansive choruses, with Walton's voice electronically altered to become something omniscient and menacing.
Listeners may already be familiar with Walton as an electronic producer, DJ, and member to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her varied career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with flourish, as if a string band taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo via a punishing, beautiful, looping drum fill. Thick walls of sound, skillfully mixed with a long-term partner, feel at once gnarly and ethereal, while Walton's morbid, enchanted thinking peak on highlight "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.
