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Within this track "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a hotel room near JFK airfield, where Jennifer Walton learns a heartbreaking news of her father's cancer discovery. This Sunderland-born performer was traveling the US for the first time, drumming alongside group Kero Kero Bonito, when abruptly sadness takes over, coloring everything with melancholy. Faltering keys and hushed orchestration accompany gothic dispatches emanating from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Her soft vocals are delivered with a flat manner, while the record's intensity stems from the sharp writing—mixing stories, traditional phrases, and blunt diary entries—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many songs this year possess more potent novelistic flair compared to "Shelly", a piece that describes the death of an animal and descends toward a fuel-soaked reckoning, reminiscent of literary works lit with flickers of distorted strings. Anxious, subdued sections with echoing, strummed guitar move into grand choruses, and her vocals digitally manipulated to become a presence all-knowing and sinister.

Listeners may already be familiar with Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and contributor in groups like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on this varied background. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with fanfare, like an ensemble caught unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" drastically increases the BPM via a punishing, stunning, looping percussion. Dense layers of audio, expertly mixed by a longtime collaborator, seem both gnarly and spiritual, and Walton's morbid, enchanted thoughts peak in standout "Lambs", a song that briefly becomes a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton pleads, with heart-aching dark comedy.