Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within this song "Miss America", listeners find themselves in a lodging near JFK airfield, where the musician receives the heartbreaking update of her father's illness discovery. This Sunderland-born artist was touring the US for the first time, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief casts a shadow, tinging all in grey. Faltering keys and hushed strings underscore dark dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle singing come across with a deadpan manner, yet this album's intensity stems from the keen writing—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Few tracks this year showcase more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of a deer and spirals toward a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of written pieces illuminated with glimpses of warped cello. Tense, subdued sections with resonating, plucked guitar transition into expansive refrains, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into a presence all-knowing and sinister.
Audiences might previously be familiar with Walton as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on her varied career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, as if an ensemble caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo with an intense, stunning, looping drum fill. Dense walls of sound, expertly produced by a longtime collaborator, feel at once rough and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thinking culminate on standout "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, with poignant gallows humor.
