🔗 Share this article The First Album "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Elegance Within the song "Miss America", audiences are placed inside a hotel room near JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton learns the devastating news that her dad has illness discovery. The UK-raised artist had been traveling the US for the first time, playing alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief takes over, coloring all in grey. Faltering piano and hushed strings accompany dark reports emanating from the tour van: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments." Her gentle singing come across in a flat manner, yet this record's tension stems from her sharp penmanship—mixing fiction, folksy sayings, and direct personal notes—coupled with surprising maximalism. Not many tracks recently possess stronger storytelling flair than "Shelly", which depicts the killing of an animal and descends into a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary pieces lit by glimpses of warped strings. Anxious, subdued sections with echoing, plucked strings move into grand choruses, with Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister. Listeners might previously be familiar with Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member to bands like Caroline. Daughters' musical twists reflect this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, like a string band caught by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM via an intense, stunning, repeating drum fill. Dense layers of audio, skillfully mixed by a long-term partner, feel both rough and spiritual, while her morbid, enchanted thoughts peak on highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily transforms into a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.