Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Style
In the song "Miss America", audiences are placed inside a lodging close to JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton receives a devastating news of her father's illness diagnosis. This UK-raised artist was traveling America for the first time, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief casts a shadow, tinging all in grey. Faltering piano and hushed strings accompany dark reports from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle vocals are delivered with a deadpan style, yet the record's intensity stems from the sharp writing—mixing fiction, folksy sayings, and direct diary entries—along with unexpected rich textures. Few songs this year possess stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of an animal and spirals toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary pieces lit with flickers of warped cello. Anxious, subdued sections with echoing, strummed guitar transition into grand choruses, and Walton's voice electronically altered into a presence all-knowing and sinister.
Audiences might previously be familiar with Walton as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and member in groups like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect this varied background. The first track "Sometimes" bursts in flourish, like an ensemble taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, looping percussion. Dense layers of audio, skillfully produced by a longtime partner, feel at once gnarly and spiritual, while her morbid, enchanted thoughts peak on highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.
