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Within the track "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airfield, as the musician learns the heartbreaking update of her father's illness diagnosis. The Sunderland-born performer had been traveling the US on her initial visit, drumming with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness casts a shadow, coloring everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and soft strings underscore dark dispatches from the road: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Her soft singing are delivered with a deadpan style, while the album's intensity stems from her keen penmanship—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—along with surprising rich textures. Few tracks recently showcase stronger storytelling flair than "Shelly", a piece that depicts the death of a deer and spirals toward a petrol-laden confrontation, evoking literary works lit with flickers of distorted cello. Tense, subdued sections featuring echoing, plucked strings move into expansive refrains, and Walton's voice electronically altered to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.

Audiences might previously be familiar with Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, like a string band taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the tempo with a punishing, beautiful, looping percussion. Thick walls of sound, skillfully mixed by a long-term collaborator, seem both gnarly and ethereal, while her morbid, magical thinking peak on standout "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, exuding poignant dark comedy.