Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
Within this song "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a lodging close to JFK airfield, as the musician learns the heartbreaking news that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born artist had been traveling the US for the first time, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, tinging all in grey. Faltering keys and soft strings accompany dark dispatches from the tour van: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft vocals come across with a deadpan manner, yet this record's tension arises from her keen writing—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and direct diary entries—coupled with surprising maximalism. Few tracks this year showcase stronger novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of a deer and descends into a petrol-laden reckoning, evoking literary pieces lit by flickers of distorted strings. Tense, quiet sections featuring echoing, strummed guitar transition into expansive refrains, with her voice electronically altered into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Listeners might already know the artist from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member in groups like Caroline. The album's musical twists draw on her varied background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, as if an ensemble caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo with an intense, stunning, looping drum fill. Dense walls of sound, expertly produced with a longtime partner, feel at once gnarly and ethereal, while her morbid, magical thoughts peak in highlight "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding poignant gallows humor.