The Debut Record "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance
Within the track "Miss America", listeners are placed in a lodging near JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton receives the devastating update that her dad has illness diagnosis. This UK-raised artist had been touring America for the first time, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness takes over, coloring everything in grey. Unsteady piano and soft strings accompany dark dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft singing come across with a flat manner, while this album's intensity arises from the keen penmanship—mixing fiction, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many songs this year showcase more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of a deer and spirals toward a fuel-soaked confrontation, reminiscent of literary works lit by flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, subdued verses featuring echoing, strummed guitar move to grand refrains, with Walton's voice digitally manipulated into something omniscient and menacing.
Audiences may previously be familiar with the artist from her work as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect her varied career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, like a string band caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo with a punishing, stunning, repeating drum fill. Dense walls of sound, skillfully produced by a long-term partner, feel both rough and spiritual, while her morbid, enchanted thoughts peak in standout "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.
