The Debut Record "Daughters" Explores Sorrow and Elegance
In the track "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a hotel room close to JFK airport, as the musician receives the heartbreaking news of her father's cancer diagnosis. This Sunderland-born performer was traveling the US for the first time, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief takes over, coloring everything in grey. Faltering piano and hushed orchestration accompany dark dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."
Walton's gentle vocals come across with a deadpan style, while the record's tension stems from the keen penmanship—blending stories, traditional phrases, and blunt diary entries—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Not many songs recently possess more potent storytelling flair compared to "Shelly", which depicts the killing of a deer and spirals toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary pieces illuminated by flickers of distorted cello. Tense, subdued sections featuring echoing, strummed guitar move into grand refrains, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated to become something omniscient and sinister.
Listeners may already be familiar with Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and member in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this varied background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, as if an ensemble taken unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo via an intense, beautiful, repeating percussion. Thick layers of audio, expertly produced by a long-term collaborator, seem both rough and ethereal, and her morbid, magical thoughts culminate on standout "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, exuding poignant dark comedy.