Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Style
In the track "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a hotel room close to JFK airport, as the musician learns the devastating news of her father's cancer discovery. This UK-raised performer was touring the US for the first time, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness takes over, coloring all in grey. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration accompany gothic dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle singing are delivered in a flat manner, yet this album's intensity arises from her keen writing—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many tracks this year possess more potent novelistic flair than "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of a deer and descends toward a petrol-laden confrontation, evoking written pieces lit with flickers of distorted strings. Tense, subdued verses featuring resonating, strummed guitar transition to expansive refrains, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and menacing.
Listeners might previously be familiar with the artist as a music creator, DJ, and member to bands such as Caroline. The album's musical twists reflect this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, like an ensemble taken unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced with a long-term partner, feel both gnarly and spiritual, and Walton's dark, magical thoughts peak on standout "Lambs", which momentarily becomes a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton pleads, exuding poignant dark comedy.