The First Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
In the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a hotel room close to JFK airfield, where the musician learns a devastating news that her dad has illness discovery. The Sunderland-born artist had been touring the US on her initial visit, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Faltering piano and soft orchestration accompany gothic dispatches from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Her soft vocals come across in a deadpan style, yet this record's tension arises from her keen penmanship—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—along with surprising rich textures. Few songs this year showcase stronger novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of an animal and descends into a petrol-laden confrontation, evoking written pieces illuminated by glimpses of distorted strings. Anxious, subdued verses featuring resonating, strummed strings transition into grand choruses, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into something all-knowing and menacing.
Listeners may already be familiar with Walton from her work as a music creator, disc jockey, and member in groups like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this diverse background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, as if a string band caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM via an intense, beautiful, looping drum fill. Thick layers of audio, skillfully produced with a long-term partner, seem both gnarly and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts culminate on standout "Lambs", which briefly becomes a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, exuding heart-aching dark comedy.