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In the track "Miss America", audiences find themselves in a lodging close to JFK airport, as the musician receives the devastating update of her father's cancer diagnosis. This UK-raised performer had been touring the US on her initial visit, drumming with group Kero Kero Bonito, and abruptly grief takes over, tinging all with melancholy. Faltering piano and soft strings underscore dark dispatches from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Her soft vocals come across with a deadpan manner, yet this record's tension stems from the sharp penmanship—blending stories, folksy sayings, and blunt diary entries—along with surprising maximalism. Few songs recently possess stronger storytelling style than "Shelly", a piece that describes the killing of an animal and descends into a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of written works lit by glimpses of warped strings. Tense, quiet verses with echoing, strummed guitar move to grand refrains, with Walton's voice electronically altered to become something omniscient and sinister.

Listeners might already be familiar with the artist as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and contributor to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this varied background. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in flourish, like a string band taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM via a punishing, beautiful, repeating drum fill. Dense layers of audio, skillfully mixed with a long-term partner, feel at once rough and ethereal, while Walton's dark, enchanted thoughts culminate in standout "Lambs", which momentarily becomes a swirling dance. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she bargains, with heart-aching gallows humor.