Jennifer Walton's Debut Album "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance
In the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a lodging close to JFK airfield, as Jennifer Walton learns a heartbreaking news that her dad has cancer diagnosis. This UK-raised artist was traveling America for the first time, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly sadness takes over, coloring all with melancholy. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration underscore dark dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her gentle singing come across with a flat manner, yet the album's tension stems from the sharp writing—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Few tracks recently showcase more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of an animal and descends into a fuel-soaked reckoning, evoking literary pieces lit by flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, subdued verses with resonating, plucked guitar transition to grand refrains, and her voice digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and sinister.
Audiences might previously be familiar with the artist from her work as a music creator, DJ, and member to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this diverse background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, like an ensemble taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo via an intense, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, skillfully mixed with a longtime collaborator, seem both gnarly and spiritual, while her morbid, magical thinking culminate in highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, with poignant gallows humor.