Gracie Abrams remains unevolved with one-dimensional ‘Daughter from Hell’
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Do you have Gracie Abrams blocked on social media? While largely a joke, Abrams has received her fair share of internet vitriol — it’s no wonder she thinks of herself as being from hell.
The daughter of prolific filmmaker J.J. Abrams, Gracie has become a poster child for the entertainment industry’s nepotism. Despite being the quintessential “nepo baby,” Gracie’s music speaks for itself. This time around, she finally took a stab at her haters with her third record, aptly named “Daughter from Hell.”
“Daughter from Hell” was released on Friday and includes 16 tracks spanning 56 minutes. The record is reminiscent of Gracie’s earlier work like “minor” and “Good Riddance,” marked by her signature ultra-personal lyrics, whispery vocals and stripped-back production. Yet, it’s almost too similar to her past, with many songs melding together to make the record feel stale.
Opening with “Hit the Wall” is fitting to the album’s title because it perfectly encapsulates feeling like a burden to others. Chronicling her mental health struggles, Gracie is at her best when she’s being vulnerable. The song’s flowing metaphors like “I’m a crack in the pavement, I’m a slipknot” convey her struggles expertly, creating a distinctive sincerity that’s hard to achieve.
“Death Wish,” which Gracie previously performed live and acoustically in March 2025, continues this vulnerability with lyrics about watching one’s partner change throughout a relationship.
“How will it end? How long will you give me / ‘Til you twist the knife with a smile while you kill me?” Gracie asks.
It may be a bizarre listening experience, pairing heartwrenching imagery with upbeat, flowery production, but it’s also a testament to Gracie’s songwriting mastery.
Gracie then explores the complex relationship with her mother in the album’s title track “Daughter from Hell” — hence the name. Backed by a profoundly dark, Ethel Cain-esque guitar hook, this track is one of the first in which Gracie explores familial relationships, and the somber mood created is well-crafted.
Compared to the rest of the album’s tracks produced by Aaron Dessner, “Look at My Life” is produced by Dan Nigro, known for his work with Olivia Rodrigo and Chappell Roan. The song pairs a catchy chorus about Gracie hating her life with charmingly relatable lyrics to make a standout single.
“My nightmare actualized / Got what I wanted, it doesn’t sit right,” Gracie sings.
“Good Reason,” a mellow ballad, flips the album’s energy. It’s another track where Gracie is at her best, featuring devastating lyrics with understatedly beautiful melodies. Singing about leaving a relationship without clear justification, Gracie explores the nuance of one-sided breakups over a carefully curated slow beat.
The album’s first half having a slower tempo feels justified when each song can hold its own, both lyrically and sonically. But what follows a strong first half is a slew of uninspired ballads. Though not bad songs, the repetitive melodies of “Sober” and “Mews” don’t allow Gracie’s lyricism to shine.
The outlier is “Minibar,” the only track co-written by Audrey Hobert, who Gracie has collaborated with in the past on “Risk” and “That’s So True.” It’s a shame the duo only worked together for one track, as Hobert’s cowrites are consistently among Gracie’s career highlights.
An upbeat track satirizing Gen Z social norms (“Someone perceived me, kinda scarred”), “Minibar” has Hobert’s signature zany humor and endearingly awkward energy all over it. Featuring an infectious chorus (“And they’re loud, I’m mellow / And I’m gone but hello,”) the only issue with “Minibar” is that the song truly is mini, with an unfortunately short runtime of two minutes.
Despite the brief reprieve from depressing vibes, Gracie returns to sluggish tunes for the final five tracks — with mixed results. “Imaginary Friend” and “Afflictions” are unremarkable, but the profound lyrics of “Humming” about growing up save the album’s last stretch from tragic obscurity. “Every kid I grew up with has lost their childhood house / No way to make sense of it, that’s why I’m making sound,” Gracie sings.
The album’s closing track, “Cold Goodbyes,” fittingly feels like a frigid farewell, weighed down by a lifeless piano and one-dimensional vocals.
Gracie sings, “I know better than cold goodbyes.” But does she? Like earlier ballads, her poignant writing is undermined by a flat vocal performance.
“Daughter from Hell” isn’t a bad album by any means. It just feels like it could’ve been made by anyone, not an artist whose album peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 two years ago. Nearly seven years into her career, Gracie still remains reluctant to push her sound in a new direction.
Gracie won’t be losing her devoted fan base anytime soon, but if she’s searching for mainstream longevity, “Daughter from Hell” won’t do it. If you’re part of that devoted fanbase, you’ll enjoy it. But if you’ve got her blocked, it’s probably not worth unblocking her for.
