In the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging close to JFK airport, where the musician learns the devastating update of her father's illness diagnosis. The UK-raised performer had been touring the US on her initial visit, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly sadness takes over, tinging everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and soft strings underscore dark dispatches from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Walton's soft singing are delivered with a flat manner, while the record's intensity stems from her keen penmanship—blending stories, traditional phrases, and direct personal notes—coupled with surprising maximalism. Not many tracks this year showcase stronger novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of a deer and spirals into a petrol-laden reckoning, evoking literary pieces illuminated with glimpses of warped cello. Anxious, quiet sections with echoing, strummed guitar transition to expansive choruses, and her vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and menacing.
Audiences might previously be familiar with the artist from her work as a music creator, DJ, and contributor in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, like a string band taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically ups the tempo with an intense, stunning, repeating drum fill. Dense walls of sound, expertly mixed with a longtime partner, seem at once gnarly and spiritual, and Walton's dark, magical thoughts culminate on highlight "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a swirling dance. "May your life never end in death," she bargains, with poignant dark comedy.
Mira is a tech journalist and AI researcher with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and their societal impacts.