Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within this track "Miss America", listeners are placed in a lodging near JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton learns a devastating update that her dad has illness discovery. The UK-raised performer was traveling the US on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness casts a shadow, tinging everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and hushed orchestration accompany gothic reports from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her gentle vocals are delivered with a deadpan style, yet this record's tension stems from her keen writing—blending fiction, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many tracks this year possess more potent novelistic flair than "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of a deer and descends toward a fuel-soaked confrontation, reminiscent of literary pieces illuminated with glimpses of distorted cello. Tense, quiet verses featuring resonating, strummed strings move into grand choruses, and her voice electronically altered into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Listeners might previously know the artist from her work as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this varied career. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, like a string band caught unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo with a punishing, stunning, looping drum fill. Thick layers of audio, skillfully mixed with a longtime partner, feel at once rough and ethereal, while Walton's morbid, enchanted thinking culminate on highlight "Lambs", which briefly becomes a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.
