Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Elegance
In the track "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a hotel room near JFK airport, as the musician learns the devastating news that her dad has illness diagnosis. This UK-raised artist had been traveling America for the first time, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness casts a shadow, tinging everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and soft strings accompany dark reports emanating from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's soft vocals come across in a deadpan manner, yet the record's intensity stems from her sharp penmanship—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—along with unexpected rich textures. Not many songs this year showcase more potent storytelling flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of a deer and spirals into a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of literary works lit with flickers of distorted strings. Tense, subdued verses featuring resonating, plucked strings transition into grand refrains, and Walton's voice digitally manipulated into something omniscient and sinister.
Audiences might already know the artist as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect her varied background. The first track "Sometimes" bursts with flourish, like a string band taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo with an intense, beautiful, looping percussion. Dense walls of sound, skillfully mixed by a longtime collaborator, seem at once rough and spiritual, and her morbid, enchanted thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.