Gracie Abrams Daughter From Hell Review: Glimmers of Great Songwriting
For an album with ‘hell’ in its title, the majority is rather pared back… more restraint than wrath.
Gracie Abrams has swiftly risen to stardom since her 2023 debut album gave her a GRAMMY® nomination for Best New Artist and dropped her into pop’s most coveted support slot – opening for a portion of The Eras’ Tour.
Out today via Interscope Records, her third studio album follows sophomore ‘The Secret Of Us’, which earned her a UK Number 1 back in 2024. With a gigantic online community of young supporters, and a discussion of nepotism Abrams is hard-placed to evade (one she’s recently acknowledged is ‘in the discourse appropriately’), many are quick to overlook, write off, or actively root against Abrams for no more than the ingredients some believe propped her up for foolproof success.
Push past the negative propaganda however, and you’ll discover Abrams is not reducible to an industry plant. Live clips showcase a mighty vocal talent, and a peek past her most popular track, the admittedly simplistic ‘That’s So True’, have previously enlightened listeners to deeply resonant songwriting rooted in shatteringly honest lyricism.
For an album with ‘hell’ in its title, the majority of ‘Daughter from Hell’ is rather pared back, fuelled by repetitions of isolation, alienation, and performative happiness… more restraint than wrath. It’s not Abrams at her best, but a record demonstrating her evolving catalogue holds promise stretching undoubtedly beyond privilege.
Read the full review below.
In its title track, a slow electric guitar soundtracks a confessional in no rush, with a thought-provoking blend of gratitudes directed towards the 26 year old’s mother. There’s an interesting line in ‘I’ve loved your shoulder’, unusual for its choice over the more obvious features one might wish to inherit. Be the shoulder highlighted for its non-striking symbolism, the place to rest a head or comfort a crying eye, the metaphorical saddle to carry a family’s burdens, or perhaps all three, these are the moments that whisper at Abrams’ growing ability to blur the abstract with the authentic.
Inevitably poised as the crux of the album, the song expands ever-so-slowly through its instrumentation, though with so much further to go as the track reaches its underwhelming conclusion. In the song, and across the album, Abrams never elucidates on just what she thinks makes her such a difficult daughter.
‘Death Wish’ and ‘Humming’ make former collaborator and tour partner Taylor Swift’s influence evident, with stripped-back storytelling favoured over big pop hooks. That is to say, the album circles the edges of the ‘Folklore’-era – so it’s no surprise to see that Aarron Dessner’s name is also omnipresent throughout ‘Daughter from Hell’s credits. The latter sounds like an eerie lullaby, to better highlight its gently panicking political and climate dread.‘Every kid I grew up with has lost their childhood house’ Gracie whispers, in reference to the 2025 Los Angeles wildfires.
“Another credit of interest is the appearance of actor and partner Paul Mescal in ‘Imaginary Friend’, a vague fever dream that drifts in and out of clarity. He fares better as a muse, which is to speculate his muted appearance in the beautiful ‘Afflictions’, a tender love song all the sweeter for its subtlety.”
‘Good Reason’ is a tender sore spot, picking slowly and carefully through the laboured regrets of a past relationship to its poignant finale; ‘if only you didn’t adore me’. ‘What If It’s Right?’ is likewise given the time to bring us into the world painted through its verses, again to the precipice of an ending. Returning the favour after Abrams’ feature on Mumford & Sons’ February album ‘Prizefighter’, Marcus Mumford’s rich harmonies give the track a stronger backbone that brings comfort to Abrams’ breathy anxieties.
The American’s voice is occasionally strained, though more often it’s singular, and stronger for it. There’s a pureness to her vocal that serves this indie-folk genre well, adding to it enough scratch to keep the songs from falling flat. Few are the opportunities (or desire) for Abrams to belt. When she occasionally does, it’s intentional and effective. Unfortunately, it bears little resemblance to the intensity promised from the album’s title and artwork.
Another credit of interest is the appearance of actor and partner Paul Mescal in ‘Imaginary Friend’, a vague fever dream that drifts in and out of clarity. He fares better as a muse, which is to speculate his muted appearance in the beautiful ‘Afflictions’, a tender love song all the sweeter for its subtlety. Like the album’s previous two, new single ‘Minibar’ sticks out as a slightly bizarre pop-fuelled interlude, though provides Abrams a platform to showcase her sense of humour and wordplay, with the help of Audrey Hobart’s signature voyeuristic style. ‘I took the train and I took it too far / past the house and the motel’ she beams, in an anxiety spiral taking place at a party.
“‘Daughter from Hell’ wraps with a heavy, depressing sigh, lacking the fight expected from an artist painting herself in such a bold streak of red.”
At 16 tracks long, just shy of an hour, ‘Daughter from Hell’ sometimes fades into embers. A lot of the album is gentle shakers and finger-plucking guitars – far cleaner than the raging inferno that springs to mind in the ‘hell’ schema. At times, it borders on the hopeless, and even in the case of an antihero, as Abrams has painted herself to be, her audience need a reason to keep rooting for her.
‘Cold Goodbye’ is exactly how the album ends, a haunting tale that begins with fantasies circling suicide, and ends at pretty much the same place. For a closing statement, it’s frankly alarming, as though Abrams’ attempts to traverse her insecurities and paranoias across the record have failed completely. By the end of ‘Daughter from Hell’, Abrams seems to be back where she started – just as close to giving up.
*
‘Daughter from Hell’ wraps with a heavy, depressing sigh, lacking the fight or anger expected from an artist painting herself in such a bold streak of red. Bathed more in dark pink, it’s not rose-tinted, yet still guarded by a layer of distance.
‘I don’t know, love / how to live in extremes’ Abrams utters softly in ‘Humming’. ‘Daughter from Hell’ proves it.
Listen to ‘Daughter from Hell’ by Gracie Abrams out now, before her ‘Look At My Life Tour’ finds its way to the O2 Arena next April.
