Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Elegance
In the song "Miss America", audiences are placed in a lodging close to JFK airport, as the musician receives the heartbreaking update that her dad has illness discovery. This Sunderland-born performer had been traveling the US on her initial visit, playing alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly sadness casts a shadow, tinging all in grey. Unsteady piano and hushed orchestration underscore dark dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft singing come across with a deadpan manner, yet this album's tension arises from the sharp writing—blending stories, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—along with unexpected maximalism. Not many songs this year showcase stronger storytelling style than "Shelly", which describes the killing of a deer and spirals toward a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of written pieces illuminated by flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, subdued verses with resonating, plucked strings transition to expansive refrains, with Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into something omniscient and menacing.
Audiences might already know Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor in groups such as Caroline. The album's sonic turns draw on her diverse background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, like an ensemble caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM with an intense, beautiful, looping percussion. Thick walls of sound, expertly produced by a longtime partner, feel at once rough and ethereal, while Walton's dark, magical thoughts peak on standout "Lambs", a song that momentarily transforms into a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.