Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Explores Grief and Elegance
Within the track "Miss America", listeners are placed in a lodging near JFK airport, where the musician learns a devastating news that her dad has cancer diagnosis. This Sunderland-born performer was traveling America for the first time, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness casts a shadow, coloring everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and soft strings accompany gothic reports emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her gentle vocals come across with a flat manner, while the record's tension arises from the keen penmanship—blending fiction, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many tracks this year showcase more potent novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of an animal and spirals toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary works illuminated by flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, quiet verses with resonating, plucked guitar transition to grand choruses, with Walton's vocals electronically altered into something all-knowing and menacing.
Audiences may previously know the artist from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor to bands like Caroline. The album's musical twists reflect this diverse career. The first track "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, as if a string band caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM with a punishing, stunning, looping percussion. Thick layers of audio, skillfully mixed by a long-term collaborator, feel both gnarly and ethereal, and Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts peak on highlight "Lambs", which momentarily becomes a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," she pleads, with heart-aching gallows humor.