On her new LP luck…or something, Hilary Duff sounds completely at ease with herself – no vocal acrobatics, no trend-chasing detours, just a confident embrace of her range and a sharp focus on songwriting. The album’s greatest strength is how naturally is balances humour with anxiety, and romance with realism. These songs live in the messy middle of adulthood: the overthinking, the small jealousies, the memories that blur together, and the quiet hope that things will still work out. It’s clever without being smug, mature without losing its sense of fun.
Lyrically, Duff leans into controversial wit and emotional specificity. Lines about arguing because “it’s not the weather for tennis” (on album opener “Weather for Tennis”) or worrying about hypothetical futures (“are there exes you miss” on the 80s-lite “Future Tripping”) feel pulled straight from real relationships – petty, tender, and oddly poetic. Even when she borrows familiar pop DNA, like the subtle interpolation of Gotye’s “Somebody I Used To Know” on “We Don’t Talk,” it serves a narrative purpose: distance, miscommunication, and the ache of once-closeness. Elsewhere, nods to Blink-182’s “Dammit” (“Growing Up”) and a wink to Bon Iver land less as nostalgia plays and more as emotional shorthand – markers of how growing up feels like remembering everything and nothing at once.
Sonically, the record is impressively cohesive. Glossy, synth-pop and guitar-laced hooks sit side by side without fighting for space, creating a warm, lightly retro palette that never overwhelms the lyrics. “The Optimist” drifts into airy, country-tinged storytelling that recalls the kind of narrative pop Taylor Swift built her career on, while “You, From The Honeymoon” captures the dreamy glow of its namesake in a style adjacent to Selena Gomez’s softer, introspective pop moments. Yet the album never feels like a collage of references – it feels unified by tone: reflective but playful, polished but intimate.
What ultimately makes the album resonate is its perspective. Duff isn’t trying to rewrite pop or dramatize her life into spectacle: she’s documenting the in-between years with clarity and charm. The closing reflections on memory, luck, and how we end up where we are (“Adult Sized Medium”) give the project a gentle arc – from relationship doubts and imagined futures to a quiet acceptance of the present. It’s a record about adulthood without cynicism, about love without fantasy, and about pop music without excess.
Smart, self-aware, and emotionally grounded, luck…or something feels less like a comeback and more like a statement of comfort: Hilary Duff knows exactly who she is, and the songs are better for it.
FIVE STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
luck…or something is now available through Warner Music Australia.
