The Kenneth Williams of modern pop, ooh-matroning over breezy hooks and Dolly Parton riffs, Sabrina Carpenter could hardly be accused of not knowing who she is. Yes, her 2024 breakthrough Short n’ Sweet – album six in her discography, but the first to take her stratospheric – was sonically all over the place, a grab-bag of R&B, country-pop and disco as indebted to Abba as it was to Doja Cat. But Carpenter’s pen served as the connective tissue: tales of pretty boys with nothing but air in their heads; disappointing men who are – for better or worse – really good in bed; sex as a silly lark.
Man’s Best Friend, squeezed out almost exactly one year later, strays little further. There are the same “Am I right, ladies?” punchlines to its lyrics, the same “Oops, did I just say that?” swears and barbs, and overall the same production flourishes. Glittery synth lines. Soft snare drums. Warmed-over grooves. It makes sense that, after years on the lower rungs of pop stardom, Carpenter would take advantage of her newfound success and keep the new material coming. But it’s worth wondering whether she would benefit from keeping her songs in the oven a little longer. There are incredible highs here, but too much that feels like a first draft.
