The Debut Record "Daughters" Delves Into Grief and Elegance
Within the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airfield, where the musician receives a heartbreaking news of her father's cancer diagnosis. The UK-raised performer was touring America for the first time, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness casts a shadow, tinging all in grey. Faltering piano and hushed strings underscore gothic reports from the tour van: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft singing are delivered with a flat style, yet this album's intensity stems from her sharp writing—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and direct personal notes—coupled with surprising maximalism. Not many songs this year showcase more potent storytelling style compared to "Shelly", which describes the killing of an animal and descends toward a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of literary works lit by glimpses of distorted cello. Tense, quiet sections featuring echoing, strummed guitar move into expansive choruses, and her voice digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and menacing.
Audiences might previously know the artist from her work as a music creator, DJ, and contributor to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' musical twists draw on this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, as if an ensemble caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo via an intense, stunning, repeating drum fill. Thick walls of sound, expertly produced by a longtime collaborator, feel both rough and spiritual, and her morbid, magical thinking peak on standout "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a twirling jig. "May your life never end in death," Walton bargains, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.
