Sabrina Carpenter is no longer just pop’s sweet talker – on “Man’s Best Friend,” she bares her teeth with a signature smirk.
The cover, shot by Alfredo Flores and styled by Jared Ellner, set the tone before a note dropped: Carpenter, on all fours in a black bow dress, hair pulled up by an unseen man, flips the “Man’s Best friend” idiom into biting satire. Critics and “fans” cried male gaze, the overwhelming theme of satire and comedic expression flew over their heads.
While many social media users criticized Carpenter’s depiction on the cover with the man as a hit to feminism, the singer herself was instead making her usual man-hating jokes. She carried on her tradition of a male death in a music video and talked about how incompetent her ex was. The first single of the album was literally called “Manchild.”
But all twelve songs are uniquely hilarious and painfully relatable as they express heartbreak, self-pity and joking through the pain.
The lead single “Manchild” pairs country twang with pop, poking fun at men who can’t even keep their phones charged. A callback to “Coincidence” seems plausible On “Tears,” Carpenter turns innuendo inside out, singing, “I get wet at the thought of you” before flipping the meaning. She’s only aroused by the bare minimum of responsibility and respect. It is sassy with a splash zone, as she suggests the person in question was unfulfilling in the basic needs department.
Her wordplay hits hardest when it stings. “Nobody’s Son” is a razor-sharp eulogy to self-proclaimed “soul-searchers,” where every guy ends up as another lost boy. As someone who listened to her early albums as a tween, I was excited to understand the various references and nods to her past, and see how she is turning them into cheerful revenge.
“Never Getting Laid” skewers perfect-but-boring relationships with a wink and a whiskey chaser. “House Tour” is a metaphorical tour of herself, proof that even when she’s cheeky, she is in control of the punchline. Carpenter thrives on her wordplay, coincidences and lyrical sleight-of-mind. She’s playful but pointed, wielding innuendo like a leash that she, not her partners, holds.
The live instrumentation and genre shift between disco-pop and R&B grooves, gives her satire room to strut. At its core, “Man’s Best Friend” is a heartbreak album dressed as a comedy set. Carpenter laughs through the pain and wreckage, showing that when love goes wrong, sometimes the only thing left to do is fetch a joke.
Standouts like “House Tour,” “Nobody’s Son” and “Goodbye” prove Carpenter’s bark has bite. WIth this record, she does not just play the game – she rewrites the rules, collar and all.
