Jennifer Walton's First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Style

In the song "Miss America", audiences are placed in a hotel room near JFK airfield, as the musician receives a devastating news of her father's illness diagnosis. The Sunderland-born performer had been touring America on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness casts a shadow, coloring everything in grey. Unsteady keys and hushed orchestration underscore gothic dispatches from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Walton's gentle singing are delivered with a flat manner, while the record's intensity stems from her sharp penmanship—blending stories, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—along with surprising maximalism. Not many tracks this year showcase stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", which depicts the death of an animal and spirals into a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of literary pieces illuminated by flickers of warped cello. Anxious, subdued sections with echoing, strummed guitar transition to grand refrains, and Walton's voice digitally manipulated into a presence all-knowing and sinister.

Audiences might previously know Walton as a music creator, DJ, and member to bands like Caroline. The album's sonic turns draw on her diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, as if a string band taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo via a punishing, stunning, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, expertly mixed by a long-term partner, feel at once gnarly and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts culminate on standout "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling dance. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.

Laurie Garrison
Laurie Garrison

A technology strategist with over a decade of experience in digital transformation and emerging tech, passionate about simplifying complex concepts for readers.