The First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the song "Miss America", audiences are placed inside a hotel room close to JFK airfield, as Jennifer Walton learns a devastating news of her father's illness discovery. This Sunderland-born artist had been traveling America for the first time, playing alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, tinging all in grey. Unsteady keys and hushed strings underscore dark reports emanating from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her gentle vocals are delivered in a flat manner, yet the record's intensity stems from the keen penmanship—blending stories, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—along with unexpected maximalism. Not many tracks this year possess stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", which depicts the killing of a deer and spirals toward a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of literary pieces lit by flickers of warped strings. Tense, quiet verses featuring resonating, plucked strings move to expansive choruses, and Walton's voice electronically altered to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners might already be familiar with the artist from her work as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and member in groups like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this diverse background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, like a string band caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the BPM with a punishing, stunning, looping percussion. Thick layers of audio, skillfully produced with a longtime partner, feel both gnarly and spiritual, while Walton's dark, magical thoughts peak on highlight "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, with heart-aching dark comedy.