Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
In the song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a hotel room close to JFK airport, where the musician learns the heartbreaking news that her dad has cancer diagnosis. The UK-raised artist had been touring America for the first time, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly grief casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Unsteady keys and hushed strings underscore dark dispatches from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle vocals are delivered in a deadpan style, yet the record's intensity stems from the sharp penmanship—blending stories, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—coupled with surprising maximalism. Few tracks this year possess more potent storytelling flair compared to "Shelly", which describes the death of an animal and descends into a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of written works lit with glimpses of distorted cello. Anxious, subdued verses featuring resonating, plucked guitar transition to grand refrains, with her vocals digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners may already know Walton from her work as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on this varied background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, like an ensemble taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo via a punishing, stunning, looping percussion. Dense layers of audio, expertly mixed with a long-term collaborator, seem both gnarly and ethereal, while Walton's dark, magical thoughts culminate in standout "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton pleads, with heart-aching gallows humor.
