Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
Within this track "Miss America", listeners are placed in a lodging near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton receives a heartbreaking news that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born performer was traveling America on her initial visit, playing alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, tinging all with melancholy. Faltering piano and hushed orchestration accompany gothic reports from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her gentle singing are delivered with a deadpan manner, yet this record's intensity stems from the keen penmanship—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Not many songs this year possess more potent storytelling flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of a deer and descends toward a fuel-soaked confrontation, reminiscent of literary works illuminated with flickers of warped cello. Anxious, subdued verses featuring resonating, plucked guitar move into expansive refrains, with Walton's voice digitally manipulated to become something omniscient and sinister.
Listeners might already be familiar with the artist from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, as if an ensemble taken unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo with a punishing, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced by a longtime partner, seem both gnarly and ethereal, and Walton's morbid, enchanted thoughts peak in standout "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a swirling dance. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, exuding poignant dark comedy.
