If your first solo album takes a few decades to arrive, it better have some sorcery in it. Fortunately for Britta Phillips—singer, bassist, actress, cartoon pop icon, and half of indie rock’s suavest dream couple—Luck or Magic has exactly that. And a little darkness, too.
“I’ve had a long time to think about it,” she says with a laugh, downplaying the intensity of going solo after decades in Luna and Dean & Britta. “But yeah, it feels very different. I’m up front. I’m exposed.”
Turns out, even seasoned performers like Phillips—who once sang as Jem of Jem and the Holograms and played bass in one of indie rock’s most revered cult bands—still get the cold sweats when it comes to self-promotion. “There’s something really yucky about saying ‘Hey, look at me!’” she admits. “I wasn’t comfortable with that at first. But then you do it and you survive and, okay—maybe I do want you to look.”
The album’s standout track, “Do It Last,” might as well be her thesis statement: seductive, sharp, and just threatening enough to make you flinch. “It started as a straight love song,” she explains. “And then I saw a sign that said ‘Do it Best,’ and started rhyming. ‘Do it last’—it just felt a little dark, a little twisted, and I liked that. Like, what are those thoughts you’re not supposed to say in a relationship? The Stones have done that. But I wanted to see what it sounded like when a woman said it.”
It’s part of what gives the record its low-simmering intensity—this mixture of control, vulnerability, and deep affection that feels too messy for typical love songs. “We all have those feelings,” she shrugs. “You don’t act on them, hopefully. But they’re there.”
So yes, in case you were wondering, her husband—Dean Wareham, her longtime collaborator and former Galaxie 500 frontman—is aware that the songs are about him. “I didn’t tell him at first,” she says. “I was nervous. But I think I say more in songs than I do in person. We’re both kind of reserved.”
“Do It Last” isn’t an attack; it’s more like relationship vérité. Sexy, smart, and just a bit unnerving.
There’s also that cover of The Cars’ “Drive,” which she handles with a kind of underwater grace. “I didn’t even like that song when it came out,” she admits. “I was more into the early Cars stuff. But when Scott Hardkiss suggested I do it, I gave it a shot. And I was like, wow—I didn’t realize how good this song is.”
If the solo album marks Phillips claiming the spotlight, she’s still happy to share the stage—literally—with the reunited Luna. But don’t mistake this as some bloated legacy reunion act trying to squeeze out a final dollar. “We’re not on the wheel,” she says, emphatically. “There’s no pressure, no new album to promote. We just show up, play, and have fun.”
Still, there is a new project on the way: a Luna covers album, halfway done and maybe more expansive than it sounds. “There might be some space jams,” she teases. “It’s kind of turning into something.”
Which tracks for Phillips: balancing the solitary magic of making Luck or Magic with the low-key joy of being in a band with friends again.
“I’m not looking to sell a million records,” she says, “but I feel like I can contribute something I really love.” That something, it turns out, is magic. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, a little possession, too.
Listen to our interview above and then check out the video below.
