Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
Within the track "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a hotel room near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton learns a devastating update of her father's illness diagnosis. This Sunderland-born performer was touring the US for the first time, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly grief takes over, coloring everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and soft strings underscore dark reports emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft singing are delivered with a deadpan manner, while the album's intensity arises from the sharp penmanship—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—coupled with surprising rich textures. Few tracks recently possess more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of a deer and spirals into a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary works lit by flickers of distorted cello. Tense, subdued sections with echoing, strummed guitar transition to expansive refrains, and Walton's voice digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners might already be familiar with the artist from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on her varied background. The first track "Sometimes" bursts in fanfare, like a string band taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo with a punishing, stunning, repeating drum fill. Dense walls of sound, skillfully mixed by a longtime collaborator, seem both gnarly and spiritual, and Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts peak in highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling dance. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.