Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves in a lodging near JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton learns a devastating news that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born performer was traveling America on her initial visit, playing alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly sadness casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Unsteady keys and hushed orchestration underscore dark reports from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's soft singing come across with a deadpan style, while this album's tension arises from her sharp penmanship—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—along with unexpected rich textures. Few songs this year possess more potent storytelling style compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of a deer and spirals into a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of literary pieces lit by glimpses of warped strings. Anxious, subdued verses with resonating, plucked strings move into grand choruses, with Walton's vocals digitally manipulated to become something all-knowing and sinister.
Audiences might previously know Walton as a music creator, disc jockey, and member to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect her varied background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, like an ensemble taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the BPM via a punishing, stunning, looping percussion. Dense layers of audio, expertly mixed by a longtime partner, feel both rough and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thinking peak in standout "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," she pleads, with heart-aching gallows humor.
