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Within the song "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a lodging near JFK airport, where the musician receives the devastating news that her dad has illness discovery. The Sunderland-born artist had been touring the US on her initial visit, drumming alongside indie band Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly sadness casts a shadow, tinging all in grey. Unsteady keys and soft orchestration underscore gothic reports from the tour van: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Shopping centers, illicit trades, anxious moments."

Walton's gentle singing are delivered in a deadpan style, while this record's intensity arises from the sharp writing—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and direct diary entries—along with surprising rich textures. Few tracks this year showcase more potent storytelling style than "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of a deer and descends into a fuel-soaked confrontation, evoking written works illuminated with flickers of warped strings. Tense, subdued verses featuring echoing, plucked strings move to expansive choruses, with her voice electronically altered to become something all-knowing and sinister.

Listeners might previously know the artist as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and member to bands such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this diverse background. The first track "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, like an ensemble taken by surprise, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the BPM with a punishing, stunning, repeating drum fill. Dense walls of sound, skillfully mixed by a long-term partner, seem at once gnarly and ethereal, and Walton's morbid, enchanted thinking peak on highlight "Lambs", which momentarily transforms into a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, with heart-aching dark comedy.