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Within the song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a hotel room near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton receives the devastating update of her father's cancer diagnosis. The UK-raised performer had been traveling America for the first time, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly grief casts a shadow, coloring everything with melancholy. Faltering piano and soft strings underscore gothic dispatches emanating from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Her gentle singing come across in a deadpan manner, while this record's intensity arises from her keen penmanship—mixing fiction, traditional phrases, and blunt diary entries—along with surprising rich textures. Few tracks this year possess stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", which depicts the death of a deer and descends toward a petrol-laden reckoning, reminiscent of written pieces illuminated by glimpses of distorted strings. Tense, quiet sections with echoing, strummed guitar move into grand refrains, and Walton's voice electronically altered to become something omniscient and sinister.

Listeners might already be familiar with Walton from her work as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and member in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect her diverse background. The first track "Sometimes" erupts with flourish, as if a string band caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Dense layers of audio, skillfully produced with a longtime partner, feel both rough and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts peak on standout "Lambs", a song that momentarily transforms into a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, with poignant dark comedy.