The Debut Record "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance
Within the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton learns the devastating update that her dad has cancer diagnosis. The UK-raised artist had been touring America on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief casts a shadow, coloring everything with melancholy. Unsteady piano and hushed orchestration accompany dark dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle singing are delivered with a flat manner, yet this record's tension arises from the sharp penmanship—mixing fiction, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—along with surprising rich textures. Not many tracks recently showcase stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of a deer and spirals into a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of literary works illuminated with flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, quiet verses with resonating, strummed guitar transition to grand refrains, and her vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and menacing.
Listeners might previously know the artist as a music creator, DJ, and contributor in groups such as Caroline. The album's sonic turns draw on this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts in fanfare, as if a string band taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo with a punishing, stunning, repeating drum fill. Thick layers of audio, expertly mixed with a long-term collaborator, feel at once gnarly and ethereal, while Walton's morbid, enchanted thinking peak in highlight "Lambs", which briefly becomes a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, with heart-aching gallows humor.