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In the track "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a hotel room near JFK airport, as Jennifer Walton receives the heartbreaking update of her father's cancer diagnosis. This UK-raised performer had been touring the US on her initial visit, playing alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly grief casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Unsteady keys and hushed orchestration underscore gothic dispatches from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Walton's gentle singing come across with a flat manner, yet the album's tension arises from the sharp writing—mixing fiction, folksy sayings, and direct diary entries—along with surprising rich textures. Few tracks recently showcase more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of a deer and spirals toward a fuel-soaked confrontation, evoking literary pieces lit with flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, subdued sections with echoing, plucked guitar transition into expansive refrains, and Walton's vocals digitally manipulated into a presence omniscient and sinister.

Listeners may already know the artist as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and contributor to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this diverse background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, like an ensemble taken unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, repeating percussion. Dense layers of audio, expertly produced by a longtime partner, seem both rough and spiritual, and her dark, enchanted thoughts peak on highlight "Lambs", a song that momentarily becomes a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, exuding poignant dark comedy.