The Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Style

Within the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves in a hotel room near JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton receives the heartbreaking update that her dad has cancer diagnosis. The Sunderland-born performer had been touring America on her initial visit, drumming with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly sadness takes over, tinging everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration accompany dark dispatches from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."

Walton's gentle singing are delivered with a flat style, while the album's intensity arises from her keen penmanship—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and blunt diary entries—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Not many tracks this year possess more potent storytelling style than "Shelly", which describes the killing of an animal and descends into a fuel-soaked reckoning, evoking literary pieces lit by glimpses of distorted cello. Anxious, quiet sections featuring echoing, plucked strings move to expansive choruses, with her voice electronically altered to become something omniscient and sinister.

Audiences might previously know the artist from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this varied background. The opener "Sometimes" bursts in fanfare, like a string band caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM with an intense, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, expertly mixed with a long-term collaborator, seem both gnarly and ethereal, and her morbid, enchanted thoughts peak in standout "Lambs", which momentarily becomes a twirling dance. "May your life never end in death," she bargains, exuding poignant gallows humor.

Laura Mcdaniel
Laura Mcdaniel

A seasoned gaming analyst with over a decade of experience in casino strategy and jackpot hunting across European markets.