Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance
Within this song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton receives the devastating news of her father's illness discovery. This UK-raised performer was traveling the US for the first time, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly grief casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Unsteady keys and soft orchestration accompany dark dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's soft vocals come across with a deadpan style, yet the record's tension stems from the keen penmanship—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and direct personal notes—along with unexpected rich textures. Not many songs this year possess stronger storytelling flair than "Shelly", which depicts the death of an animal and descends toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of written works lit by flickers of warped strings. Anxious, quiet verses with resonating, plucked guitar transition into expansive choruses, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated to become a presence omniscient and sinister.
Listeners may previously be familiar with the artist as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this varied career. The first track "Sometimes" bursts in fanfare, as if an ensemble taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo via a punishing, beautiful, repeating percussion. Thick walls of sound, skillfully mixed with a long-term partner, seem both rough and ethereal, and Walton's dark, magical thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily transforms into a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, with heart-aching dark comedy.