The Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Grief and Style
In the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airfield, as the musician receives a devastating update that her dad has cancer discovery. The Sunderland-born performer had been touring America on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief takes over, tinging everything in grey. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration accompany dark dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft vocals are delivered in a flat style, while the album's intensity arises from her sharp penmanship—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and direct diary entries—along with surprising rich textures. Not many songs this year showcase stronger novelistic flair than "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of a deer and spirals into a petrol-laden confrontation, evoking written works illuminated by glimpses of warped strings. Tense, quiet sections with echoing, plucked strings move to expansive refrains, with Walton's vocals electronically altered into a presence all-knowing and menacing.
Audiences may previously be familiar with Walton as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and contributor to bands like Caroline. The album's sonic turns reflect this diverse career. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, like an ensemble caught by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically ups the BPM with a punishing, stunning, looping drum fill. Dense walls of sound, skillfully produced with a long-term partner, feel at once gnarly and ethereal, and her morbid, enchanted thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.
