Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Elegance

Within this song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a hotel room near JFK airport, as the musician receives the heartbreaking news that her dad has illness discovery. This Sunderland-born performer had been touring the US for the first time, drumming with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly sadness casts a shadow, tinging everything with melancholy. Faltering piano and hushed orchestration underscore gothic dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Her soft singing come across with a flat manner, yet this record's tension arises from the sharp penmanship—blending stories, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—coupled with surprising maximalism. Few tracks recently possess stronger storytelling style than "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of an animal and descends toward a petrol-laden reckoning, evoking written works illuminated by glimpses of distorted strings. Tense, quiet verses with echoing, strummed strings transition into grand choruses, with her vocals electronically altered to become something omniscient and menacing.

Audiences may previously be familiar with Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on her varied career. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, as if an ensemble caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the BPM via an intense, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Dense layers of audio, skillfully mixed by a long-term collaborator, seem both rough and spiritual, while her dark, magical thinking culminate on highlight "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.