The Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Elegance
In the song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a lodging near JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton receives a devastating update of her father's cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born artist was traveling America for the first time, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly sadness takes over, tinging all in grey. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration underscore gothic dispatches from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her gentle vocals are delivered with a flat style, while the record's tension stems from her keen penmanship—mixing fiction, traditional phrases, and blunt diary entries—coupled with surprising maximalism. Few songs recently showcase more potent storytelling style than "Shelly", which describes the death of an animal and descends toward a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of written works lit by glimpses of distorted strings. Tense, subdued verses featuring resonating, strummed guitar move to expansive refrains, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Audiences might previously be familiar with the artist from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, like a string band caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo with an intense, beautiful, looping drum fill. Thick walls of sound, expertly mixed by a longtime collaborator, seem both gnarly and spiritual, while her dark, enchanted thoughts culminate on standout "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.