Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Elegance
Within the song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a lodging near JFK airport, where the musician receives the devastating news that her dad has illness discovery. The UK-raised performer was touring the US on her initial visit, drumming with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly grief takes over, coloring all with melancholy. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration underscore gothic reports emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her soft singing are delivered with a deadpan style, while the album's tension arises from her keen writing—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—along with unexpected rich textures. Few songs this year possess more potent novelistic flair than "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of an animal and spirals into a fuel-soaked confrontation, reminiscent of written pieces lit by glimpses of distorted cello. Tense, quiet sections with echoing, strummed guitar transition to grand choruses, and Walton's voice digitally manipulated to become something omniscient and menacing.
Listeners might already be familiar with Walton as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands such as Caroline. The album's musical twists reflect this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, as if an ensemble taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, looping percussion. Thick walls of sound, expertly produced with a long-term partner, seem both gnarly and spiritual, and Walton's morbid, magical thoughts peak in standout "Lambs", a song that momentarily transforms into a swirling jig. "May your life never end in death," she pleads, exuding poignant dark comedy.
