Jennifer Walton's First Record "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance
In the track "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a hotel room near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton receives a devastating update that her dad has illness diagnosis. This UK-raised artist was touring America on her initial visit, drumming with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief takes over, tinging all with melancholy. Unsteady piano and soft orchestration underscore gothic dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft vocals come across with a flat manner, yet this album's tension arises from her sharp penmanship—mixing fiction, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—along with surprising rich textures. Not many tracks this year showcase more potent storytelling style than "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of an animal and descends toward a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of written works lit with flickers of warped cello. Anxious, quiet verses with echoing, plucked guitar move to expansive choruses, with her vocals electronically altered to become something all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners might previously know the artist as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her varied background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, like a string band caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo via a punishing, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, expertly produced with a long-term partner, seem both rough and spiritual, while Walton's dark, magical thoughts peak in standout "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, with heart-aching gallows humor.
