The First Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Style
Within the song "Miss America", audiences are placed in a hotel room close to JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton learns the devastating update that her dad has illness diagnosis. This UK-raised artist had been traveling America on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly grief casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration underscore gothic reports from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's soft vocals are delivered in a deadpan manner, while this album's tension stems from the keen penmanship—blending stories, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Few tracks this year possess more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", which depicts the death of a deer and descends toward a fuel-soaked confrontation, evoking written works lit by glimpses of distorted strings. Anxious, quiet verses featuring echoing, plucked strings transition to grand choruses, and her voice digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Listeners may already know the artist from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member in groups like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect this varied background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, as if a string band caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the BPM with an intense, stunning, repeating drum fill. Dense layers of audio, expertly mixed with a long-term collaborator, seem both rough and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thinking culminate in highlight "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding poignant gallows humor.
