Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Grief and Elegance
In this song "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a hotel room near JFK airport, where the musician receives a heartbreaking update of her father's illness diagnosis. This Sunderland-born artist had been traveling America for the first time, drumming with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, coloring all with melancholy. Faltering piano and soft strings accompany dark reports emanating from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her gentle singing are delivered with a flat manner, yet this record's tension arises from her keen penmanship—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and direct personal notes—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Few songs this year possess more potent novelistic flair than "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of an animal and spirals toward a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of literary pieces illuminated with flickers of distorted cello. Tense, quiet sections featuring echoing, strummed strings move to expansive choruses, and her voice digitally manipulated into something omniscient and sinister.
Listeners might previously be familiar with the artist from her work as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and member to bands like Caroline. The album's musical twists reflect her diverse career. The first track "Sometimes" bursts with flourish, as if an ensemble caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo with a punishing, stunning, repeating percussion. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced by a long-term collaborator, seem both gnarly and ethereal, while Walton's morbid, magical thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.
