The visuals are outstanding: dark, moody, gritty. Even the album title carries a certain romance, promising listeners unflinching insight into a tortured mind. Yet Gracie Abrams’ “Daughter from Hell” sonically delivers on few of its promises. Abrams’ latest record is an amalgamation of B-side tracks from her previous — and better — albums. In just 56 minutes, Abrams proves that an intriguing idea doesn’t necessarily promise an impressive execution.
Since the beginning of her career, Abrams has faced the internet’s vitriol. As the daughter of famed Star Wars director J.J. Abrams, she’s taken the “nepo baby” accusations in stride. Her 2024 album, “The Secret of Us,” shot her into mainstream fame and proved her musical prowess with hits like “I Love You, I’m Sorry” and “Risk.” Abrams’s close friendship with Taylor Swift and high-profile relationship with Irish actor Paul Mescal had seemingly primed her to be a new pop starlet. When she announced “Daughter from Hell” on May 11, the world was her oyster. That was, of course, until the album started playing.
“Hit the Wall,” the record’s lead single, rises high above most of the other tracks. Although the song lacks a satisfying climax, its lyrics are revelatory and accompanied by meticulous and immersive production. The record’s second single “Look at My Life” outdoes its predecessor. The track’s beat thrums and holds listeners tightly in its restless grasp.
“Death Wish” is a track Abrams’s fans have heard before: She released “Death Wish (Live from The O2 Arena)” on April 1, 2025. Back then, the track was a piano ballad, narrating the experience of loving someone despite their toxicity. On “Daughter from Hell,” the song received a rebrand. The bubbly pop sound is accompanied by Abrams’s trademark whisper-singing, which explodes in the final chorus. What emerges is a confused, disjointed track that loses the emotional weight of its initially released version.
The incoherence of “Daughter from Hell” only worsens throughout the record. “The Knife” is a ballad that takes on unoriginal subject matter as Abrams laments her habit of nursing a heartbreak long after the relationship’s end. “Good Reason” makes another reference to a knife and heartbreak, forcing listeners to wonder whether this sonic universe will ever expand. The vocals are chafing: Abrams’s hoarseness can’t unearth vulnerability because the track is simply devoid of any. Reminiscent of “Packing It Up” from “The Secret of Us (Deluxe),” “Sober” is stripped-down and muted. Heartbreak is a recurring theme across “Daughter from Hell,” but no track is potent enough to spur any meaningful commentary.
On “Imaginary Friend,” the mediocrity is stifling. The plain, unimaginative beat distracts from the baffling lyrics: “Do you remember all the shit I broke? Well, I fixed it.” Even an invocation of indie stomp-clap can’t disguise the dullness of this record’s midsection.
“Broke My Heart” is similarly plaintive and equally forgettable. “Mews” has a certain novelty to its build, and “Afflictions” is a sweet love song that feels slightly out of place on the album, while “Humming” is just fine.
“Minibar” and “What If It’s Right?” offer some redemption. “Minibar,” which initially debuted as a collaboration with rising pop star and brilliant lyricist Audrey Hobert, is a sparky pop anthem. The track is wordy, but lyrics like “I’ll eat the cake and the caviar / Break down the door like a bombshell / I’ll start the bit, then I take it too far / Might second-guess it, but, oh well” are punchy and dynamic.
“Minibar” is one of the album’s most well-rounded tracks and “What If It’s Right?” is Abrams’s best attempt at indie pop. A collaboration with Marcus Mumford of Mumford and Sons, the song explores a complicated relationship that teeters between love and hurt. Abrams’s and Mumford’s vocals create a melancholic atmosphere, grounding the emotional aspects of the track.
“Daughter from Hell” faces a difficult conundrum: While Abrams once soared solo on her preceding albums, the magic of this record is made when she sources from other artists and their niches.
“Men Like You” is one of the most biting tracks on the album, with Abrams’s vocals on full display alongside compelling production. Standing in stark contrast is the cringe-inducing “Cold Goodbyes,” a song plainly aligned with the album’s concept featuring a spoken-word nature that is awkward and off-putting. Confessional songwriting seems to have been the album’s intention, but Abrams’s lyrics lack any nuance or imagination.
“Daughter from Hell” is a disappointing title track. The song promises excitement in its opening: the electric guitar solo is stirring. The ballad that follows is acceptable but lacking. The track’s dialogue around complex mother-daughter relationships fails to cut the way that Mitski’s song “Class of 2013” — or even Greta Gerwig’s film “Ladybird” — does.
“Daughter from Hell” is inoffensive, and this is precisely its issue. Abrams takes no risk on the new record, regurgitating the worst tracks from her previous albums. Failing to live up to its fierce name, the record is bland and unable to find its emotional core. Today’s pop climate is competitive: Olivia Rodrigo’s sensational “you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love” and Phoebe Bridgers’ pop-adjacent “Lost Weekend” are stiff competition. It’s no longer amateur hour in pop music, and Abrams has a lot of work to do to make some noise amid the cacophony.
Alyssia Ouhocine is a Senior Staff Writer covering Arts & Culture. Hailing from Bayonne, New Jersey, she is concentrating in English and History with a particular interest in Algerian history and literature. When she’s not writing, she can be found listening to music and sending Google Calendar invites.
