In this song "Miss America", listeners find themselves inside a lodging near JFK airport, where Jennifer Walton learns the heartbreaking news of her father's illness diagnosis. This UK-raised performer had been touring the US on her initial visit, playing with group Kero Kero Bonito, when suddenly grief takes over, coloring everything with melancholy. Unsteady keys and hushed strings accompany gothic dispatches emanating from the road: "Cattle farm and broke down shack / Strip-mall, drug deal, panic attacks."
Her soft singing come across with a flat style, yet this album's tension arises from the sharp writing—blending fiction, folksy sayings, and direct diary entries—coupled with unexpected maximalism. Not many songs this year showcase stronger novelistic flair than "Shelly", which describes the killing of a deer and spirals toward a petrol-laden confrontation, reminiscent of literary works illuminated with glimpses of distorted cello. Anxious, subdued verses with resonating, plucked strings move into expansive refrains, and her voice digitally manipulated into a presence all-knowing and sinister.
Audiences might previously know Walton from her work as an electronic producer, DJ, and member in groups such as Caroline. Daughters' sonic turns draw on her diverse career. The opener "Sometimes" erupts in fanfare, as if a string band taken unawares, whereas "Born Again Backwards" radically increases the tempo with a punishing, beautiful, repeating percussion. Thick walls of sound, skillfully produced with a longtime partner, feel both rough and ethereal, while her dark, enchanted thoughts culminate in highlight "Lambs", a song that briefly transforms into a twirling jig. "I hope your existence doesn't conclude with dying," she pleads, with heart-aching gallows humor.
