Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Style
Within the song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a hotel room near JFK airfield, as Jennifer Walton learns the devastating update of her father's illness discovery. This Sunderland-born artist had been touring America on her initial visit, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly grief casts a shadow, coloring everything in grey. Faltering piano and soft orchestration accompany dark reports from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her gentle vocals come across in a flat style, while the album's tension arises from her sharp writing—blending stories, folksy sayings, and direct personal notes—along with surprising maximalism. Not many songs recently possess stronger storytelling flair than "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of an animal and spirals toward a petrol-laden reckoning, evoking literary works lit by glimpses of distorted strings. Anxious, quiet verses with resonating, plucked guitar transition to expansive choruses, and Walton's voice electronically altered to become something omniscient and sinister.
Listeners might previously be familiar with Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on this varied background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, as if a string band caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the BPM via a punishing, stunning, looping percussion. Thick layers of audio, skillfully mixed by a longtime collaborator, seem both rough and spiritual, while Walton's dark, enchanted thinking peak in highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a swirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.