The Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
In the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a lodging close to JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton receives the heartbreaking news that her dad has illness diagnosis. This UK-raised performer was traveling the US for the first time, playing alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Unsteady piano and hushed strings accompany dark dispatches from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft vocals come across in a deadpan style, yet this album's intensity arises from the keen writing—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—along with unexpected rich textures. Not many songs recently showcase stronger novelistic style than "Shelly", which depicts the death of an animal and descends toward a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of written works lit with flickers of distorted strings. Tense, subdued sections featuring echoing, plucked strings move into expansive refrains, with her voice electronically altered to become a presence all-knowing and sinister.
Audiences may previously know Walton as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, as if an ensemble taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo via a punishing, beautiful, repeating percussion. Dense walls of sound, skillfully mixed by a long-term partner, seem both rough and ethereal, and her morbid, enchanted thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily transforms into a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.