Hilary Duff makes her musical return with ‘luck… or something’

After an almost 11-year hiatus from music, Hilary Duff is back with her latest album luck… or something.

Duff sounds her age in the best way, using pop to express her feelings about relationships and adulthood as she reflects on her teen stardom. The lyrics are overall relatable and convey a new sense of maturity. 

Duff produced the album in collaboration with her husband, which may be why we see a different side to her. The album works for her and feels like an intimate glimpse into Duff’s thoughts, rather than just another pop album. 

Lyrically, this is her most explicitly reflective album yet. 

A standout song lyric-wise is “Mature.” It’s bright, cheeky and full of nostalgia. The production is guitar-driven pop with a mid-tempo, energetic feel. The lyrics are catchy and self-aware with a sarcastic edge. It has a different sound from the rest of the album and captures its essence. The song features Duff looking back at an age‑gap relationship from a new perspective. It features lines like, “She looks like she could be your daughter/Like me before I got smarter.” 

Another highlight is “Future Tripping.” The song is lively and full of high-energy synth-pop. The chorus hooks you in and makes it hard to sit still. The lyrics feel like a confession of Duff’s relationship insecurities and fears. All while she obsesses over things that actually haven’t happened yet. She’s honest and raw with lyrics like “Are we having enough sex?” and “Are there exes you miss?” The contrast between anxiety-filled lyrics and an upbeat production makes for an iconic pop moment. 

Duff presents yet another relatable track with “Growing Up.” This mid-tempo pop-rock song emphasises the bittersweet feeling of shrinking your circle, but deepening your bond. The chorus is a love letter to Blink‑182’s “Dammit,” quoting some of its lyrics, such as “I guess this is growing up/I’ll turn to you as a friend.” All while softening the original punk-rock song into a warmer rendition. Duff taps into ’90s nostalgia in a way that feels distinctly her own, tucking it neatly into the album’s larger theme of growth.

A low point in the album is the repetition, especially in tempo. A couple of songs tend to blur together and lean too heavily on 2010s electro-pop, undercutting the hard work the stronger songs establish. “You, From The Honeymoon” feels weak lyrically with lines like “Your kind of freak matched my kind of freak.” It feels like Duff is relying on pop-culture clichés instead of sharing her own narrative. 

As “Tell Me That Won’t Happen” rolls around, you can hear the mid-tempo pop formula repeat itself. Emotionally, the song is personal and explorative, but sonically, it’s difficult to tell it apart from the rest of the album. It feels like Duff is so close to pushing out of her comfort zone musically and emotionally, but she doesn’t fully commit. 

As the album closes with “Adult Size Medium,” Duff reflects on her early life and how much she has changed since then. The song feels like an internal dialogue questioning memories from her early life, “Was any of it worth it after all?/Is my reflection someone else’s story?” It’s slightly melancholy, with a gentle, soft-pop beat and a conversational tone. Duff knows she’s outgrown the idolized teen version of herself, but is still trying to figure out who she is now. 

Duff’s previous album, Breathe In. Breathe Out. feels trendy and radio-ready, while luck… or something carries a grounded, mature edge. Her new sound still follows the familiar pop template but adds thoughtful delivery. Her lyrics are more expressive and specific, so she paints a fuller picture instead of staying surface-level. Duff transitions from teen drama to the reality of adult life while still maintaining a pop princess sound. You can tell Duff made this album not out of necessity but because she genuinely wanted a way to express herself. 

luck… or something feels like Duff telling her own story on her own terms, without succumbing to outside influence. The album takes you on a journey through late-night thought spirals over orange wine instead of juice boxes, trading teen drama for careful reflection. The sound isn’t unique, but it’s new and different for Duff, which deserves appreciation.