Jennifer Walton's First Record "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance

In the track "Miss America", audiences are placed inside a lodging near JFK airfield, where the musician learns the heartbreaking news that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born performer had been traveling America for the first time, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness casts a shadow, tinging all with melancholy. Faltering piano and hushed orchestration accompany dark dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Walton's gentle vocals are delivered with a deadpan manner, yet the record's tension stems from her sharp writing—blending fiction, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—along with surprising rich textures. Few songs recently possess more potent storytelling flair compared to "Shelly", which describes the killing of an animal and descends toward a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of written pieces illuminated with flickers of warped strings. Tense, quiet sections with echoing, strummed guitar transition into expansive choruses, with Walton's vocals electronically altered to become a presence omniscient and sinister.

Listeners might previously be familiar with Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and member in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this varied career. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, like an ensemble taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo via an intense, beautiful, repeating percussion. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced with a long-term partner, feel at once rough and spiritual, and her morbid, magical thoughts peak on standout "Lambs", which momentarily becomes a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.