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

Within this song "Miss America", listeners are placed in a lodging near JFK airfield, where the musician learns a heartbreaking news of her father's illness discovery. The UK-raised performer had been traveling the US for the first time, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief casts a shadow, tinging everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and soft strings accompany dark reports emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Her soft singing are delivered with a flat manner, while the record's intensity arises from her keen writing—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and direct personal notes—along with surprising rich textures. Few songs this year showcase more potent novelistic flair than "Shelly", which describes the killing of a deer and spirals into a fuel-soaked confrontation, reminiscent of written works illuminated by glimpses of distorted strings. Tense, subdued verses with echoing, strummed guitar move to expansive refrains, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister.

Listeners might previously know Walton as a music creator, disc jockey, and member in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on her diverse background. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, as if an ensemble caught unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM with a punishing, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Dense walls of sound, expertly produced by a longtime partner, feel both rough and spiritual, while her morbid, enchanted thoughts peak on highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.