Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend; Winks, Flirts, & a Few Raised Eyebrows
After conquering the charts with her cheeky, country-tinged Sweet N Short, Sabrina Carpenter returns with Man’s Best Friend, her seventh studio album and perhaps her most unabashedly bold to date. Co-written and produced with Amy Allen, Jack Antonoff, and John Ryan, the 12-track set is a cocktail of country twang, disco shimmer, and sly R&B flourishes, laced with enough sexual innuendo to keep the parental advisory sticker working overtime (10 out of 12 tracks are explicit).
The album opens with “Manchild,” its banjo stomp and sarcastic tone designed to be a lead-single earworm. Fans ate it up and it gave Sabrina another #! on the Billboard charts, though its basic construction makes it feel more like a clever sketch than a fully fleshed-out song. Much stronger is “Tears,” a disco-flecked, Daft Punk-tinged cut that pairs harps and synths with some of Carpenter’s dirtiest lyrics yet.
“My Man on Willpower” comes blasting out with theatrical energy, only to fizzle into a tongue-in-cheek tale of celibacy that feels more concept than song. Luckily, she quickly rebounds with “Sugar Talking,” a mid-tempo ballad anchored by a mesmerizing guitar solo and a sly demand to “put your lovin where your mouth is.” Meanwhile, “We Almost Broke Up Again Last Night” might be the album’s purest moment; a candid ode to makeup-breakup cycles with a chorus so sticky it feels destined for TikTok loops.
Carpenter isn’t afraid to get wistful. “Nobody’s Son” swells with string-heavy nostalgia as she laments being the perpetual third wheel, her voice altered just enough to sound dreamlike and distant. “Never Getting Laid” walks a delightful tightrope: laid-back grooves give way to a country chorus, while Sabrina sweetly croons spiteful wishes like “I hope you get agoraphobia some day.” That mix of venom and velvet is where she shines brightest.
The album’s middle stretch leans playful and flirty. “When Did You Get Hot” is a sultry, harmony-rich bop with the immortal line, “you were an ugly kid but you’re a sexy man.” “Go Go Juice” takes a barroom hoedown approach to drunk decision-making (“ain’t no one safe when I’m a little bit drunk”), while “Don’t Worry I’ll Make You Worry” slows things down with folky textures reminiscent of Taylor Swift’s more intimate corners.
The final act is pure fun. “House Tour” disguises lust as hospitality, Carpenter winking her way through “I just want you to come inside.” Closing track “Goodbye” is ABBA by way of Nashville, with lush strings, European flair, and multilingual farewells that turn farewell into celebration. It’s brilliant, campy, and irresistible. Exactly the sweet spot she’s been honing.
Like its predecessor, Man’s Best Friend thrives on Carpenter’s biggest asset: her personality. The lyrics crackle with wit and innuendo, and even when the quips don’t quite land, the charm carries her through. It’s not flawless; a few tracks trip over their own cleverness, occasionally bordering on kitsch, but it’s daring, ambitious, and deeply entertaining. Sabrina Carpenter may be winking, but she’s also cementing herself as one of pop’s most self-aware narrators.
