Album Review: “luck… or something” by Hilary Duff

It may be unfair to talk about Hilary Duff’s new music without acknowledging her cultural legacy. For a legion of people growing up in the early 2000s, she is recognized as Lizzie McGuire or Samantha from “A Cinderella Story.” She became a defining face of millennial adolescence, embodying optimism, relatability and a distinctly pre-social media authenticity. She transitioned to a productive solo music career, where she dropped an enjoyably wholesome brand of rock-flavored pop aimed at teens. Singles like “Come Clean,” “Beat of My Heart” and “So Yesterday” remain solid pop tunes, even if they are stripped of the shimmer of nostalgia. It is crazy to think that just between the ages of 15 and 17, Duff was feuding with Lindsay Lohan over her relationship with the late Aaron Carter and putting out songs about her experiences growing up under intense media scrutiny and the public eye. It is remarkable that Duff had endured such a rollercoaster life in the spotlight and came out on top mostly unscathed, something which cannot be said for most of the other teen sensations of her ilk and time.

Over the past few years, Duff has experienced somewhat of a resurgence of her popularity thanks to several meaty roles in movies and TV. Perhaps the time was right for her to step back into music after a hiatus of 11 long years. “luck… or something’ is not revolutionary or edgy, nor is it anything we haven’t already heard in the existing pop landscape. However, the true selling point of the album is Duff drawing on her experiences of the past 11 years — romance, breakups and motherhood — in a more mature, tongue-in-cheek way that feels tender yet vulnerable. I should mention something here: the producer of this album is Matthew Koma, who, apart from being Duff’s husband, has worked with the likes of Carly Rae Jepsen, Demi Lovato and Zedd. If you like Carly Rae Jepsen, you will like the instrumental palette of most of this album.

The glittery and catchy synths pop up immediately on the opener “Weather for Tennis” (“keep the peace / ’cause I’m a kid of divorce / and you’re the starter of wars / and there’s no winning in yours”). It is an essentially bittersweet song, where Duff realizes that always being generous is not going to help. “Roommates” sounds a lot like “Anti-Hero” by Taylor Swift, with the former painting a picture of Duff being stuck between desire and neglect in a purgatory where the grief of realizing intimacy has faded becomes evident while a relationship still exists. “We Don’t Talk” moves through a largely repetitive chorus but does include some affecting lyrics (“’cause we come from the same home, the same blood / a different explanation of the same thought / people ask me if I’ve seen you”). “Future Tripping” drips with some ’80s synthpop production while Duff is anxious about the future she’s imagining with the one she loves. “Growing Up” veers into the soft rock territory that Duff is known for. I think “The Optimist” is one of the most lyrically engaging and unabashedly naked songs Duff has ever put on tape (“last night I went to see a hypnotist / asked her to teach me not to dream / I’ve got too much I think about / an overdrawn account of people I’ve been too afraid to need”). The sparse acoustic instrumentation with Duff’s buttery voice is all that this song needed to drive its point home — how her father’s descent into alcoholism and debauchery took a toll on her early life. “You, From The Honeymoon” is an interesting take; Duff dives into her nostalgia and misses the version of her that sought the energy to match someone’s freak and not think about the future, but to fully dwell in the present. She explicitly refers to her being 23 and being a young lover, looking forward to diving into marriage. “Mature” is another sweet bubblegum pop-rock highlight, in which Duff sings to a younger version of herself, asking her to be careful of men who might take advantage of her being mature for her age (“I can’t put it on her, she’s a sweet kid / but she’s taking the bait like we all did”). It is a very authentic sentiment given that it comes from someone who has lived a life like Duff has, and that’s what makes it compelling.

As “Adult Size Medium” closes out the album, it is apparent that this project played to Duff’s persona and her strengths. While Duff is not a stunning vocalist, she gets the job done by crooning about her life, struggles, passions and warmth in a way that feels wholly relatable. Perhaps that is what has kept her charms alive for all these years. Welcome back, Hilary Duff!