There’s a reason Gracie Abrams’ music has resonated with young fans, especially young women, and it has nothing to do with her famous father or boyfriend, her beauty, or who she’s been lucky enough to collaborate with. Admittedly, all of these things have elevated her profile along the way, but if she has anything to prove at this point in her career, it’s that her musical vision has value all its own. While her latest record’s intimate arrangement feels intentionally imperfect at times, overall, it does a great job reflecting not only her growth as an artist, but as a person, a woman and as the title touts, a daughter.
The emotive nuances and morbid metaphors on Daughter from Hell, her third full release, bolster her songwriting with an edgier vibe while also displaying the beauty of her voice and the urgency of what she wants to express. The best cuts feel less like narratives inspired by her life and more like real slices of it. Swelling with wistful reflection and the diary-like energy she’s known for, her words evoke struggle but also strength, which is surely inspiring for her most loyal listeners, many of whom are navigating the same wins and losses of growing up.
The uncertainty and angst of adulting are familiar themes in all of Abrams’ work, whether that’s “Mean It,” her 2019 breakthrough hit dissecting a relationship that’s run its course, or 2024’s “That’s So True,” a spunky mid-tempo ode to post-breakup emotional whiplash. Her lyrics bite right into your heart, especially if you’re still close enough to young love to remember how much it can consume you. Haters who begrudge her privilege as the offspring of blockbuster filmmaker J.J. Abrams and producer Katie McGrath notwithstanding, it’s easy to fall under her spell.
Despite her background, Abrams is beloved by Gen Z for her relatability. Her creative choices have always felt honest, from her personal style to her uncontrived videos, the latter setting her apart from Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo, the superstar pals she opened up for early in her career.
Daughter dropped July 17, two years after her breakthrough sophomore album The Secret of Us and the deluxe version’s Grammy-nominated duet with Swift called “Us.” Like Swift, the 26-year-old seems less interested in pointing fingers when it comes to break-ups and bad experiences these days. She provides a widened range of perspectives on songs like “Look at My Life,” (“Do I look high-functioning or is my façade crumblin’?”) “The Knife,” and “Minibar,” which retain her signature vocal fry flourishes and breathy purrs, but feel fresh as she uses them to emphasize new woes and rants.
The standouts are strong, but Daughter From Hell also has filler moments that get lost in the 16-song mix. This free and fiery take on folk and indie pop could have benefitted from an edit that allowed its highlights to shine, but its deceptively soft, introspective parts are potent nonetheless.
The cursive quality and conversational rhythm of what some dismiss as the “sad girl” singer style is undeniably pleasant here, and Abrams owns it on the first track, “Hit the Wall,” and again around the middle of the album, beginning with “Imaginary Friend” (which counts her man Paul Mescal as a co-writer) and then on the dreamy whip of “Afflictions,” which seems to be about the actor and their relationship. (“You see what I can’t seem to see / I don’t know where to put it all / I’ll put you in a song”).
The enamored odes are contrasted nicely by “Humming,” a notable harmonic excursion, “What if It’s Right?,” a shimmering duet with Marcus Mumford. The title track goes further still, boasting a heftier delivery, some cool guitar parts, and a shameless sincerity that’s quite effective as she celebrates her mom and the maternal influences that have allowed her to soar. The simplicity of this ballad-heavy output conjures heaven more than hell, but despite its gentle sonic approach, Abrams is no angel—and the contrast continues to be compelling.
