The Debut Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
In the track "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging close to JFK airfield, as Jennifer Walton learns a devastating news of her father's cancer diagnosis. This Sunderland-born artist was touring America on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly sadness casts a shadow, coloring everything in grey. Faltering piano and soft orchestration accompany dark reports emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle vocals are delivered in a deadpan manner, while the album's tension arises from her sharp penmanship—blending fiction, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—along with unexpected maximalism. Few songs this year showcase more potent novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of a deer and descends toward a fuel-soaked confrontation, evoking literary pieces lit by flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, quiet verses featuring resonating, plucked strings move to grand refrains, and her voice electronically altered to become something all-knowing and sinister.
Audiences might already know the artist as a music creator, DJ, and member to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her diverse background. The opener "Sometimes" bursts in flourish, like a string band taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo with a punishing, stunning, repeating percussion. Thick walls of sound, expertly produced by a longtime collaborator, feel both rough and spiritual, and Walton's dark, magical thoughts culminate in highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a swirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton pleads, exuding poignant gallows humor.
