The First Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Style
In the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a hotel room near JFK airport, where the musician receives a heartbreaking update of her father's illness diagnosis. This Sunderland-born artist had been traveling America on her initial visit, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief takes over, coloring everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and soft orchestration accompany gothic reports emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's gentle vocals are delivered with a flat manner, while this record's intensity stems from her sharp penmanship—blending stories, traditional phrases, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Few tracks this year showcase more potent novelistic flair than "Shelly", which depicts the death of a deer and spirals toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary pieces lit with flickers of warped cello. Tense, subdued verses with echoing, strummed strings transition into grand refrains, and Walton's voice electronically altered into something all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners might already know Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member in groups like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect her varied career. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, as if an ensemble taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo via a punishing, stunning, repeating drum fill. Thick layers of audio, skillfully mixed with a longtime partner, seem at once rough and spiritual, while her morbid, enchanted thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", which briefly becomes a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, with poignant gallows humor.
