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In this track "Miss America", listeners are placed inside a hotel room close to JFK airfield, where the musician learns the heartbreaking update of her father's illness diagnosis. The Sunderland-born performer was traveling the US on her initial visit, playing with indie band Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly sadness casts a shadow, tinging everything in grey. Faltering piano and hushed orchestration accompany gothic reports from the tour van: "Rural scenes and crumbling homes / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."

Her gentle singing come across with a flat style, yet this album's intensity stems from the sharp writing—mixing stories, folksy sayings, and blunt personal notes—coupled with unexpected rich textures. Not many songs this year showcase more potent novelistic style compared to "Shelly", a piece that depicts the killing of an animal and spirals into a fuel-soaked reckoning, evoking written pieces illuminated with glimpses of warped strings. Tense, quiet verses featuring echoing, strummed strings transition into grand refrains, with her voice electronically altered to become a presence omniscient and sinister.

Listeners might previously know Walton as an electronic producer, disc jockey, and member to bands like Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns reflect this varied career. The opener "Sometimes" bursts with flourish, as if a string band taken by surprise, while "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo with a punishing, stunning, looping percussion. Dense layers of audio, skillfully produced with a long-term partner, seem at once rough and spiritual, and Walton's morbid, enchanted thinking culminate on standout "Lambs", which briefly becomes a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," Walton bargains, with poignant dark comedy.