Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Style
Within the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves in a lodging close to JFK airport, where the musician learns a heartbreaking update that her dad has cancer diagnosis. This UK-raised artist was traveling the US for the first time, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly grief casts a shadow, tinging all with melancholy. Faltering piano and soft orchestration accompany dark dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her soft singing are delivered in a deadpan style, while this record's intensity stems from the sharp penmanship—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—coupled with surprising rich textures. Few tracks recently possess more potent storytelling style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of an animal and spirals toward a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of literary works lit with glimpses of warped strings. Tense, quiet verses featuring echoing, plucked guitar transition into grand refrains, with Walton's voice digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners might already be familiar with Walton as a music creator, DJ, and member to bands like Caroline. The album's musical twists draw on her diverse background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, like a string band caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the BPM with a punishing, stunning, repeating drum fill. Dense layers of audio, expertly mixed by a longtime collaborator, seem at once gnarly and ethereal, and her morbid, enchanted thoughts culminate on standout "Lambs", which briefly becomes a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.
