Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the track "Miss America", listeners are placed in a hotel room near JFK airport, where the musician receives a heartbreaking news of her father's cancer diagnosis. This Sunderland-born artist was traveling America on her initial visit, playing alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, tinging everything in grey. Faltering piano and soft strings underscore gothic dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her gentle singing are delivered with a deadpan manner, yet this record's tension arises from her sharp penmanship—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Few tracks this year possess stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", which describes the killing of an animal and spirals toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of written pieces lit with glimpses of distorted cello. Anxious, quiet sections featuring resonating, strummed guitar move to expansive choruses, and Walton's voice digitally manipulated to become something all-knowing and menacing.
Audiences might previously be familiar with the artist from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and member in groups like Caroline. The album's sonic turns reflect this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, as if an ensemble caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo with a punishing, beautiful, looping drum fill. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced with a longtime partner, feel both rough and ethereal, and Walton's morbid, enchanted thoughts culminate in highlight "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.
