Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a lodging close to JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton receives the heartbreaking news of her father's illness diagnosis. This Sunderland-born performer had been touring America on her initial visit, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly grief takes over, coloring everything in grey. Unsteady keys and hushed orchestration underscore dark dispatches from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her gentle vocals come across in a deadpan style, while this album's intensity arises from her sharp penmanship—blending stories, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—along with surprising maximalism. Not many tracks this year possess stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of an animal and spirals into a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of written pieces illuminated by glimpses of distorted cello. Tense, subdued sections with resonating, plucked guitar transition to expansive refrains, and her voice digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Audiences might previously know Walton as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and member in groups such as Caroline. The album's sonic turns reflect this varied background. The first track "Sometimes" bursts in fanfare, as if a string band taken unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo via an intense, stunning, looping drum fill. Thick layers of audio, skillfully mixed with a longtime collaborator, feel both rough and ethereal, while her morbid, magical thoughts peak in highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," she bargains, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.
