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

In this song "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a lodging near JFK airfield, where the musician learns a heartbreaking news of her father's cancer discovery. The UK-raised performer had been traveling the US on her initial visit, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief casts a shadow, tinging all in grey. Unsteady piano and soft orchestration accompany gothic reports from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."

Her gentle vocals are delivered with a deadpan style, while this album's tension stems from the keen penmanship—blending fiction, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many tracks this year showcase stronger novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of a deer and descends toward a petrol-laden confrontation, evoking literary pieces lit by flickers of warped cello. Tense, quiet sections featuring resonating, plucked guitar move into expansive refrains, with her voice digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and sinister.

Listeners may already be familiar with the artist as an electronic producer, DJ, and member to bands such as Caroline. The album's sonic turns draw on this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with flourish, like an ensemble caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the BPM via an intense, stunning, looping drum fill. Dense walls of sound, expertly produced with a long-term collaborator, feel both rough and spiritual, and Walton's dark, magical thoughts culminate on standout "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.