The First Album "Daughters" Delves Into Sorrow and Elegance

In the track "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a lodging close to JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton receives the heartbreaking update that her dad has illness diagnosis. The UK-raised artist had been touring the US for the first time, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly grief casts a shadow, coloring everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration accompany dark reports from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Walton's gentle vocals are delivered in a deadpan manner, yet this album's tension arises from her sharp writing—blending stories, traditional phrases, and blunt diary entries—coupled with surprising maximalism. Not many tracks recently showcase more potent novelistic style compared to "Shelly", which describes the killing of a deer and spirals into a petrol-laden reckoning, evoking written pieces illuminated with glimpses of warped cello. Anxious, subdued sections with echoing, plucked strings move into grand refrains, with her voice digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister.

Listeners may previously know the artist from her work as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this varied background. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, like an ensemble taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo via an intense, beautiful, repeating percussion. Dense layers of audio, skillfully mixed with a longtime collaborator, seem at once rough and ethereal, while her dark, enchanted thoughts peak on standout "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.