Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Style
Within this song "Miss America", listeners are placed in a hotel room near JFK airfield, as Jennifer Walton receives a devastating news that her dad has illness diagnosis. The Sunderland-born artist had been touring America for the first time, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Unsteady keys and soft orchestration underscore gothic reports emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's gentle singing come across in a deadpan manner, yet the album's intensity stems from her keen writing—mixing fiction, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—along with unexpected maximalism. Few tracks this year showcase stronger storytelling flair than "Shelly", which depicts the killing of a deer and spirals into a fuel-soaked reckoning, evoking written pieces illuminated with glimpses of distorted strings. Tense, quiet verses with resonating, strummed strings transition into grand choruses, with her vocals digitally manipulated into a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Audiences might previously know Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this varied background. The first track "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, like a string band caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the BPM via an intense, beautiful, looping drum fill. Thick layers of audio, expertly mixed by a longtime partner, seem at once rough and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thinking peak in standout "Lambs", which briefly becomes a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, with heart-aching gallows humor.
