Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the track "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airfield, where the musician learns the devastating update that her dad has illness diagnosis. This UK-raised performer had been traveling the US for the first time, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly grief casts a shadow, coloring everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and soft orchestration underscore gothic reports from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's soft vocals come across in a flat style, while this album's intensity stems from the keen penmanship—blending stories, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—along with surprising rich textures. Not many tracks this year showcase stronger storytelling style than "Shelly", which describes the death of an animal and spirals into a fuel-soaked confrontation, evoking written works lit by glimpses of distorted cello. Anxious, quiet verses with resonating, plucked strings transition to grand choruses, with her vocals electronically altered into a presence omniscient and sinister.
Listeners might previously know Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member in groups like Caroline. The album's sonic turns reflect her diverse background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, like a string band taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the BPM with a punishing, beautiful, looping drum fill. Dense layers of audio, expertly produced with a longtime collaborator, seem at once gnarly and spiritual, while her morbid, magical thoughts peak in standout "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a twirling dance. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, with heart-aching dark comedy.