The First Record "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a hotel room close to JFK airport, where the musician receives a devastating update that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born artist was touring America on her initial visit, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness takes over, tinging everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and hushed strings accompany dark dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's gentle singing come across in a deadpan manner, yet this record's tension stems from the keen penmanship—mixing fiction, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—along with surprising maximalism. Few songs this year possess stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of an animal and descends toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of written works lit with flickers of distorted strings. Tense, quiet verses featuring resonating, plucked strings move to expansive choruses, and her voice digitally manipulated into something all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners might already know Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and contributor to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this diverse background. The first track "Sometimes" bursts in flourish, as if a string band caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, repeating percussion. Dense layers of audio, skillfully mixed with a long-term partner, feel both gnarly and spiritual, and Walton's dark, magical thoughts culminate on standout "Lambs", which briefly transforms into a swirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, with heart-aching dark comedy.
