Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Explores Grief and Elegance
In the song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a hotel room near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton receives the heartbreaking update of her father's cancer diagnosis. This Sunderland-born artist was traveling the US for the first time, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief casts a shadow, coloring everything in grey. Unsteady piano and soft strings accompany dark dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her soft vocals come across with a deadpan manner, while the record's tension stems from her sharp writing—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—along with surprising rich textures. Not many songs recently showcase more potent novelistic style than "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of an animal and spirals toward a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of literary pieces lit by glimpses of distorted cello. Anxious, subdued verses featuring resonating, strummed strings transition into grand refrains, and Walton's voice digitally manipulated to become something omniscient and menacing.
Listeners may previously be familiar with the artist from her work as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands like Caroline. The album's sonic turns reflect her diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, as if a string band caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo via a punishing, stunning, repeating percussion. Dense walls of sound, expertly produced with a long-term collaborator, feel at once rough and ethereal, while her morbid, magical thoughts peak on standout "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, with heart-aching dark comedy.