Jennifer Walton's First Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
In this song "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a lodging near JFK airport, where the musician learns a devastating news that her dad has cancer diagnosis. This Sunderland-born artist had been touring the US for the first time, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness takes over, tinging all in grey. Faltering piano and hushed strings accompany gothic dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her soft singing come across with a flat style, yet this record's tension arises from her keen penmanship—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—along with surprising rich textures. Not many songs this year showcase stronger storytelling style than "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of a deer and spirals toward a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of written works illuminated by flickers of warped strings. Anxious, subdued sections with resonating, plucked guitar move to expansive choruses, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Audiences may previously know Walton as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, as if an ensemble caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced by a long-term partner, seem at once gnarly and ethereal, and Walton's dark, enchanted thinking peak in highlight "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a swirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton pleads, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.