Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Style
In this track "Miss America", audiences are placed in a lodging near JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton learns a devastating news that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born artist had been touring America for the first time, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness casts a shadow, tinging all in grey. Faltering piano and hushed orchestration underscore dark reports emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her soft vocals come across in a flat manner, while the record's tension arises from her keen penmanship—mixing fiction, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Not many tracks this year showcase stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", which depicts the death of a deer and descends into a fuel-soaked confrontation, reminiscent of literary works lit with flickers of warped strings. Tense, quiet sections with echoing, plucked guitar move to grand choruses, with Walton's voice digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners may previously be familiar with Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and member in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, like a string band taken unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the BPM with an intense, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Dense walls of sound, expertly mixed by a longtime partner, feel both rough and ethereal, and Walton's morbid, enchanted thoughts peak on highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.