Jennifer Walton's Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
Within this song "Miss America", audiences are placed inside a lodging near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton receives a heartbreaking news that her dad has cancer diagnosis. The UK-raised performer had been touring the US on her initial visit, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly sadness casts a shadow, tinging all with melancholy. Faltering keys and hushed strings accompany dark dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's soft vocals are delivered with a deadpan manner, yet the record's tension stems from her keen writing—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—coupled with surprising rich textures. Not many songs recently possess stronger novelistic style than "Shelly", which depicts the death of a deer and descends into a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary works illuminated with glimpses of distorted cello. Tense, subdued verses with echoing, strummed strings move to expansive refrains, and her voice digitally manipulated into something omniscient and menacing.
Listeners may previously know Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on her diverse background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, as if a string band caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo via a punishing, stunning, repeating percussion. Thick walls of sound, expertly produced by a long-term collaborator, feel both gnarly and ethereal, and Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, exuding poignant dark comedy.