Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the track "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a hotel room close to JFK airport, where the musician learns the heartbreaking update that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born performer was touring the US on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly sadness takes over, coloring everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and soft strings underscore gothic dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's soft singing are delivered with a flat manner, yet this album's tension stems from her sharp penmanship—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many tracks recently possess stronger novelistic style than "Shelly", which describes the death of an animal and descends into a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of literary works lit with flickers of distorted strings. Tense, quiet verses featuring echoing, plucked strings transition into expansive choruses, and Walton's voice electronically altered into something omniscient and sinister.
Audiences may previously be familiar with the artist as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her diverse background. The opener "Sometimes" bursts in flourish, as if an ensemble caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo via an intense, stunning, looping drum fill. Dense layers of audio, expertly produced with a longtime collaborator, feel both rough and spiritual, and her morbid, enchanted thoughts culminate in standout "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a swirling jig. "May your life never end in death," she pleads, with poignant dark comedy.