Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Style
Within the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton receives a heartbreaking update of her father's cancer diagnosis. This Sunderland-born artist was touring America on her initial visit, playing alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness takes over, coloring all in grey. Unsteady piano and soft orchestration underscore gothic reports from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle singing are delivered with a flat manner, while the album's intensity stems from the keen penmanship—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—along with unexpected rich textures. Few songs recently possess more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", which depicts the killing of an animal and descends into a fuel-soaked confrontation, evoking written pieces lit by glimpses of distorted cello. Tense, subdued verses featuring resonating, strummed strings move to grand choruses, and her voice electronically altered into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Listeners might already be familiar with Walton as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her varied career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, like an ensemble taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo with a punishing, stunning, looping drum fill. Thick layers of audio, skillfully mixed by a long-term collaborator, seem both gnarly and ethereal, while her morbid, enchanted thinking peak on highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a swirling dance. "May your life never end in death," she bargains, with heart-aching gallows humor.