Jennifer Walton's First Record "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Elegance
In the song "Miss America", audiences are placed inside a hotel room near JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton learns a heartbreaking news that her dad has illness diagnosis. This UK-raised artist had been traveling America on her initial visit, drumming with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, tinging everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration underscore gothic reports emanating from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's gentle singing are delivered with a flat style, yet the record's intensity stems from her keen penmanship—blending fiction, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Few tracks this year possess more potent storytelling style than "Shelly", which describes the killing of a deer and spirals toward a petrol-laden reckoning, evoking literary works lit with flickers of warped strings. Tense, quiet sections with echoing, plucked guitar transition to grand choruses, and her voice electronically altered to become something omniscient and sinister.
Audiences may previously be familiar with Walton as a music creator, DJ, and member to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her varied background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, as if a string band taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo via an intense, stunning, repeating percussion. Dense layers of audio, expertly mixed by a longtime collaborator, seem at once gnarly and ethereal, and her morbid, magical thinking peak on highlight "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.