“Luck… or something” by Hilary Duff (Atlantic) [AP Photo]
Hilary Duff is a pop star once more – if a pop star ever truly stops being one.
More than a decade after 2015’s Breathe In. Breathe Out., Duff returns with Luck… or Something, a witty, glittery set of 11 songs reflecting on the years since her teenage stardom. The album wrestles with existential questions, lingering what-ifs and self-deprecating reflection, all wrapped in nostalgia and just enough cringe to feel honest.
Once the Disney Channel’s illustrated middle schooler Lizzie McGuire, Duff is now 38, married with four children. The perspective has shifted since her early-2000s shimmer-pop and breakup anthems – “What Dreams Are Made Of,” “Come Clean,” “So Yesterday.” Lead single “Mature” makes that evolution explicit, revisiting a too-familiar dynamic between a young woman and an older man: “Bet she loves when she hears you say / You’re so mature for your age, babe.” Present-day Duff looks back with clarity – and forgiveness.
Nostalgia remains central. A mini-tour previewed new tracks alongside old hits for fans in Toronto, London, New York, Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Promotional videos leaned into archival costumes, flip phones and winks to The Lizzie McGuire Movie. The message: she remembers, and she knows you do too.
The album attempts to balance that backward glance with adult perspective. Matthew Koma – Duff’s husband and a songwriter-producer for artists including Pink, Carly Rae Jepsen and Britney Spears – co-writes and produces throughout. The result is polished, synth-forward pop.
Opener “Weather For Tennis” finds Duff dissecting arguments with tongue-twisting lines that echo the bite of her early hits. “Holiday Party,” about a partner’s imagined affair, rides darker, muffled club beats, while booming drums and claps make “Future Tripping” – about needing emotional grounding – buoyant and playful. Layered laughs and snippets of dialogue add charm. “Tell Me That Won’t Happen,” however, circles similar anxieties at a steadier pace: “Are we 80 years proof? Are we really immune?”
The songs are accessible and catchy, built on conversational lyrics that feel like whispered worries among friends. That intimacy – paired with Duff’s laid-back, self-aware persona – is her quiet advantage. On tour, she even recreated a once-viral 2007 dance from “With Love,” inviting fans to join her. By acknowledging that slightly awkward past version of herself, she bridges the gap between then and now. Even the cheesiest lines become endearing.
“The Optimist” shifts tone, reflecting on her father over lap steel and softer vocals. It’s a welcome change, though its country-pop sheen feels more borrowed than distinctly hers.
On “You, From The Honeymoon,” Duff recalls being 23: “Too young to be too existential.” Fifteen years later, existential pop fits just fine. And despite the anxieties and tested relationships she chronicles, Duff sounds like she’s enjoying every minute of it. [Abridged] ELISE RYAN, MDT/AP
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