Album Review: Sabrina Carpenter – Man’s Best Friend
2 min read
Sabrina opens Man’s Best Friend with Manchild, a cheeky, synth pop bop with a dash of country twang. She mercilessly teases an emotionally stunted ex throughout with lyrics such as “Why so sexy if so dumb?” It’s sassy, smart, and catchy. All wit and sass, Manchild feels like the soundtrack to a fabulously petty rant. Next, Tears leans into nu-disco and feels like a humorous side-eye to the world of modern dating with all the tongue-in-cheek sexual innuendo. She’s not subtle when she says good manners can make her weak in the knees.
From there, My Man on Willpower swings into more introspective territory, pointing to relational fatigue with both sympathy and edge. Sugar Talking continues on an introspective and deep note, utilizing painful yet sweet lyricism to dig into the topic of emotional manipulation. Mid-album, Sabrina keeps the emotional tracks rolling with We Almost Broke Up Again Last Night. This track plays out like an argument that’s half fight, half flirt, raw and real, and in that late at night ‘should we or shouldn’t we’ kind of way. Nobody’s Son rips into her frustration with unattached, commitment-phobic men and it’s all sung over what feels like the instrumentals from a happily ever after fairytale theme song. Never Getting Laid earns plenty of raised eyebrows and laughs with its audacious title and lyrics.
Things shift into a clever satire next with When Did You Get Hot?. The song talks about the sudden glow-up of an ex, delivered with sass, comedic timing and ‘nudge-nudge’ lyricism. Go Go Juice follows as a classic danceable pop track that’s a sly, coded nod to nightlife, addiction and exes. Don’t Worry I’ll Make You Worry follows as confident swagger written in the form of a sweet lullaby. She flips concern on its head and talks about being in control, knowing just how to rattle the cage. The second to last track of the album, House Tour, is a groovy track with cheeky provocation spoken in a number of double entendres and metaphors.
Rounding out the album, Goodbye offers a genuinely tender moment, pulling back the theatrics for a softer, more reflective farewell. Maybe she’s walking away, maybe she’s finally letting go, but she’s doing it on her own terms. Man’s Best Friend is an album that reads a bit like a teenage girl’s diary to me. It’s dramatic and cliché, feels a little bit unfinished but also presents a good amount of personality and introspection.
