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In this song "Miss America", audiences find themselves inside a hotel room close to JFK airfield, where the musician learns the heartbreaking news of her father's illness discovery. The Sunderland-born artist was traveling the US on her initial visit, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, and suddenly grief casts a shadow, tinging all with melancholy. Unsteady keys and soft strings accompany gothic reports emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Walton's gentle vocals come across in a flat style, yet this album's intensity stems from her keen writing—blending stories, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—along with unexpected rich textures. Not many songs recently possess stronger storytelling style compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of an animal and descends toward a petrol-laden reckoning, evoking written pieces lit with glimpses of distorted cello. Tense, quiet sections with echoing, strummed guitar transition to expansive choruses, with her voice electronically altered to become a presence all-knowing and menacing.

Listeners might already be familiar with Walton as an electronic producer, DJ, and member to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her varied career. The first track "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, as if a string band caught unawares, while "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the BPM with a punishing, stunning, looping drum fill. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced by a long-term partner, seem at once gnarly and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts culminate in standout "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a swirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, exuding heart-aching gallows humor.