🔗 Share this article The Debut Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Elegance In the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a hotel room near JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton receives a devastating news of her father's illness discovery. This Sunderland-born artist had been traveling America for the first time, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly sadness takes over, coloring everything in grey. Unsteady keys and hushed orchestration accompany dark dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments." Walton's soft singing are delivered with a deadpan style, yet this record's intensity stems from her keen penmanship—blending fiction, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—along with unexpected maximalism. Not many tracks recently showcase stronger storytelling flair compared to "Shelly", which describes the killing of an animal and spirals into a fuel-soaked reckoning, evoking written works illuminated by glimpses of warped cello. Tense, subdued sections featuring resonating, strummed strings move into grand choruses, and Walton's voice digitally manipulated into a presence all-knowing and sinister. Audiences might already be familiar with Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with fanfare, like an ensemble caught unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the tempo via a punishing, stunning, looping drum fill. Dense walls of sound, skillfully produced by a longtime collaborator, feel at once rough and spiritual, while her morbid, magical thinking culminate on highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a swirling dance. "May your life never end in death," she pleads, with poignant gallows humor.