Send "Daughters " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Popmatters |
 The musical evolution of Rhode Island band Daughters over the last nine years has been nothing short of impressive. 2003’s Canada Songs was as exuberant, psychotic, and flat-out fun a grindcore album as you will ever hear. It held 11 minutes of insanity, dexterous riffs, maniacal blastbeats, and indecipherable screeches that, upon closer inspection, revealed some surprisingly clever lyrics. Three years later, the aptly titled Hell Songs took things in a decidedly different direction. Much darker in tone than the previous record, the band adopted more of a noise-rock style in the vein of Botch, the Jesus Lizard, and Melt Banana, exploring song dynamics, with vocalist Alexis Marshall eschewing the repetitive screaming in favor of a much cleaner vocal style, singing in an affected Southern drawl that, oddly enough, fitted with the music perfectly. It was a stylistic change so drastic that it blindsided everyone who had grown accustomed to Daughters’ frantic, frenetic music in the past. Once the shock wore off, not only was it clear that Hell Songs was a terrific album, but in one fell swoop the band had opened themselves up to an entirely new realm of possibilities. Although it’s been a very long wait, Daughters’ third full-length lives up to the promise they showed on the last album. In fact, they pull the rug out from under us again with what turns out to be far and away their best work yet. Like other ambitious recent albums like Melt-Banana’s Bambi’s Dilemma and Micachu’s Jewellery, Daughters find a perfect, seemingly impossible middle ground between cacophony and accessibility. Waves of atonal, discordant chords and notes that at first seem flippantly and arbitrarily pieced together quickly meld together to create some improbable hooks. Coupled with Marshall’s almost-spoken word rants, it all makes for an exciting listen....full text |
| Sputnikmusic |
| Rhode Island's Daughters have always walked a dangerous line of progression with each album. Their 2003 debut, Canada Songs, took the freeflowing hostility of grindcore legends The Locust and, with a total disregard for taste and common sense, amped up the schizophrenic nature of their tortured dissonance to create what can arguably be seen as one of the subgenre's best releases in the last decade. In 2006 they released their follow up, Hell Songs, and while at times it bared an almost uncanny resemblance to its predacessor, vocalist Alexis Marshall's change from unintelligible banshee wails to clean vocals allowed Daughters to expand on new ways to deliver their sonic skullfuckery. Enter Daughters, the band's third album. Following the blueprint laid out in Hell Songs, Daughters is a perverted brew of angular dissonance that has Daughters shedding what was left of their grindcore exterior and ascending to a new level of musical haphazardness. Case in point, the songs on Daughters actually feel like songs. Unlike the bottle rocket-like nature of previous Daughters releases, Daughters is developed with a refined sense of focus and personality, giving each track the opportunity to grow into something unique, something eerie, while still retaining its unnacessible yet rewarding nature. As if whining axes and brooding drums weren't enough to build this uneasy tension, Alexis Marshall's wounded utterances sound like the mad ramblings of Elvis Presley as he strained away his final drugged up moments on his porcelain throne, making Daughters not only one of the most jarring, but also one of the most neurotic albums in recent memory....full text |
| Indierockreviews |
| In the time that its been since Daughters released “Hell Songs”, I have become accustomed to Sonic Youth’s feedback drenched droning, which makes the newest Daughters self-titled album even more enriching. Nicholas Sadler (who has since left the band and is playing in the lame indie band Fang Island) really knows how to get his guitar to tremble violently and lurch forward in the most disgustingly awesome way possible. I wouldn’t call it a solo, but the musical bridge in “The First Supper” is something straight out of Steve Albini’s playbook. It pulses and pummels as if KMFDM partied with the Meat Puppets and “Family Man” era Henry Rollins took LSD and married them over a human sacrifice. For the second album in a row, vocalist Alexis Marshall croons and slowly drawls over the face pummeling noise attack, as compared to the throat shredding screams of his contemporaries and his own work for this band earlier in their career. He sounds like Tom Waits if he took hallucinogens instead of spent all of his time at the bar. To call this grind music would be a total lie, and to call it noise rock would be to sell it short. Its some sort of hybrid that makes you feel like you got punched in the stomach. Even (comparatively) slower tracks like “The Hit” and “The Dead Singer” twist higher and higher until they collapse into broken down noise freakouts that I cant really wrap my mind around yet. “The Theatre Goer” riffs like a Black Sabbath track, but the guitar effects make it sound like its trapped in a tornado, which leads perfectly into the absolutely ridiculous opening guitar part to “Our Queens”. Pardon my lack of journalistic integrity here: holy shit. Daughters have once again created a noise rock masterpiece. This is a must hear....full text |
Daughters lyrics
