Review Summary: If privileged Hollywood actors want to cosplay as emotionally vulnerable and relatable musicians, could they at least try a little harder?
If you grew up watching Disney Channel at any point in the early-to-mid 2000’s, then Hilary Duff is more than likely somebody who needs no introduction. Though her fame has primarily come from acting,
luck… or something isn’t her first foray into music. Like many Disney Channel actresses, she dabbled in pop music at the height of her TV fame, but slowed down her releases with time. In fact,
luck… or something is her first studio album in over a decade. It’s beyond obvious that Duff wanted to showcase her emotional relatability and depth, but the album ultimately collapses under shallow lyricism and stylistic imitation.
Lyrically speaking, nearly every attempt at being sexy, honest, or deep comes off as laughably shallow and disingenuous. Worst of all, the entirety of
luck… or something has an uber-wealthy tinge to it to the point of annoyance. There are numerous references to drinking fancy wine and cocktails, a plethora of name drops to a variety of luxury goods, and a few references to the Los Angeles/Malibu area for good measure. The album’s attempts at relatability are frequently undercut by the constant lifestyle signalling. Even when the lifestyle references subside, there are numerous lyrical fumbles and nonsensical lines that ruin any potential the songs themselves may have had. Some of the most notable lyrical stumbles include lines such as:
"I’m touching myself by the front door, but you don’t look my way anymore"
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Roommates
"...some bitch at the bar. Who’s singin’ she loves Bon Iver? Calls him Bon Ivar (ha-ha)"
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Future Tripping
And best (or worst) of all:
"Try hards, icons, Sunday mornings, Super Bowls, turn ons, tampons, edibles, and booty calls"
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luck... or something
I could forgive the awkward and clunky lyrics if the music itself was catchy, or at the very least interesting, but
luck… or something even fails to deliver on that part. The production throughout the album is incredibly stale, and takes obvious inspiration from Jack Antonoff’s recent work with Taylor Swift.
Roommates in particular sounds awfully similar to Swift’s
Anti-Hero. Speaking of
Anti-Hero, Duff must’ve heard the song and fallen in love with the soft percussion on the track, because that very same muted percussion is everywhere on
luck… or something. Even the album’s “best” songs (and I’m using that word very lightly) struggle to rise above mediocrity, but they’re at least catchier than the album’s worst tracks. They’re the kind of songs that you might hear at the grocery store without ever learning their name, and they’re catchy enough for you to maybe hum the chorus to yourself on the drive home, only for you to immediately forget all about it a day later. For a genre built on hooks, the lack of memorable choruses is a nearly unforgivable flaw.
I’d be lying if I said I had even remotely high hopes going into
luck… or something, but it still found a way to disappoint me. Hilary Duff is far from being a talentless person – as is proven by her stable acting career and ability to still get roles on TV and in film – but this album does little to suggest she has a distinct musical identity. Unfortunately,
luck… or something is an early contender for one of the year’s weakest pop releases; it’s not catchy enough to be a guilty pleasure, nor deep and insightful enough to enjoy for the lyrics alone. Maybe Duff intended for
luck… or something to be a big return to the pop scene, but sadly for her, this album is destined to wind up in Walmart’s clearance bin by the year’s end. With sharper songwriting and a more adventurous approach to production,
luck… or something could’ve been a compelling listen. Instead, it settles for bland imitation.
1.5 out of 5
