“Oh boy!” Sabrina Carpenter chuckles at the top of “Manchild,” the lead single of her new album Man’s Best Friend. It’s a subtle but direct preview of this project’s focus: a camp-fueled takedown of incompetent men. It’s not a far-fetched or unexpected topic, as Carpenter’s last album, Short n’ Sweet, saw the pop star skewering the opposite sex for funsies. “Amen; hey, men!” Carpenter sings throughout “Manchild,” humoring her target as she deliberates on how to properly puncture egos.
For anyone who played Short n’ Sweet into the ground, Man’s Best Friend will be a welcome listening experience. Sabrina Carpenter is witty, charming, and selectively vulnerable, as usual — and she’s backed by her expected partners in crime: Amy Allen and Jack Antonoff, alongside One Direction mastermind John Ryan. With her crew in place, Carpenter continues her aversion to one sound, skillfully collecting the gems of different eras and genres and shining them up for 2025.
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Where Short n’ Sweet saw Carpenter breaking free from the middling pop field, Man’s Best Friend is the singer’s opportunity to immerse fully in the sound and style she’s cultivated after finding herself across six albums. On her seventh, at 26 years old, Carpenter is establishing herself as the pop supernova of the moment. On the night of the album’s release, she dropped her second single, “Tears.” Unlike the countrified lead single “Manchild,” “Tears” is fueled by lustful disco. The Bee Gees come to mind as Carpenter coos, “I get wet at the thought of you,” fantasizing about the object of her affection. She’s never shied away from expressing her frank sexuality, and this album is no different.
Carpenter’s healthy libido precedes her. During her appearance on NPR’s Tiny Desk last December, Carpenter acknowledged the chatter. “Some people know me for, I guess, being explicitly horny,” she said to a room full of laughs. “It’s actually not so simple as that.” The album cover of Man’s Best Friend features Sabrina on her hands and knees, a male figure standing above her with a fistful of hair, resembling a dog owner holding a leash. Despite Carpenter’s very intentional presentation as a girlie pop who champions autonomy and female empowerment, the backlash was swift. Thank God she doesn’t give a fuck.
Alongside her core unit of songwriters and producers, Carpenter has figured out a way to make even the most inappropriate topics sound like sing-a-longs. “House Tour” takes on multiple influences, from the New Jack Swing popularized by Janet Jackson to the funk-driven R&B of the Mary Jane Girls. The song is inexplicit, but the content of the lyrics screams NSFW: “Do you want the house tour?/ I could take you to the first, second, third floor/ And I promise none of this is a metaphor/ I just want you to come inside.”
Man’s Best Friend functions as a variety show on wax. The bouncy, inquisitive “My Man on Willpower” paints a vivid picture of Carpenter comically attempting to get her beau’s attention: “He’s busy, he’s working, he doesn’t have time for me/ My slutty pajamas not tempting him in the least/ What in the fucked-up romantic, dark comedy is this nightmare lately?” On the opposite end of the spectrum, Carpenter’s “Never Getting Laid,” which sounds soulful enough for Bobby Caldwell, takes a dagger to the heart of an inconsistent partner who she wishes a lifetime of involuntary celibacy. Both of these vignettes are illustrative, evocative renderings that sound like watching a kooky Carol Burnett routine unfold in real time.





