Pop stars have long used album covers as more than just packaging, but as branding – a statement piece that sets the tone, even an entry point to an artist’s world. Sabrina Carpenter’s seventh record, “Man’s Best Friend”, is no exception. Before listeners even pressed play, the cover image, featuring Carpenter on all fours as a man pulls her hair, ignited a wave of backlash and debate over gender, power and performance.
Across its tracks, Carpenter trades shock value for sharp wit, pairing vulnerability with playful confidence. The result is an album that refuses to play submissive, even when its imagery provides the opposite.
Glasgow Women’s Aid, a charity supporting victims of domestic abuse, even said that the cover was “regressive” and “promotes an element of violence and control.” Other fans online have contradicted this saying the cover reflects a male’s fantasy for men who don’t support a woman’s independence.
Carpenter dismissed the criticism. “Y’all need to get out more,” she said in an interview with Gayle King on Aug. 29.
While the cover stirred controversy, the music tells a different story. Across the album, Carpenter pairs vulnerability with playful confidence, her lyrics revealing both sharp wit and emotional honesty. Far from catering to men, “Man’s Best Friend” underscores her autonomy and her refusal to let anyone else define the narrative.
The album opens with the single “Manchild,” which distills her knack for turning heartbreak into sharp, sparkly pop. It’s catchy and cutting, dripping with her trademark wit, though like many singles it lost its freshness by the time the album dropped.
The album’s second single, “Tears,” and its music video quickly became a fan favorite. It’s undeniably fun, catchy and upbeat enough to guarantee its upcoming popularity at the bars, but when you strip back the beat, the lyrics stumble. With lines like “remembering how to use your phone gets me oh, so hot,” the track seems to be missing the witty bite that her standard quips possess and as a result, ultimately falls flat.
Where Carpenter’s “Short n’ Sweet” album struck the perfect balance of raunch and charm, “Tears” feels like it’s reaching for the same cheeky boldness without quite landing it. The result is a track that works as pop escapism but leaves a trace of secondhand cringe once the chorus fades.
“My Man on Willpower,” a standout for its raw relatability, features a premise alone that is almost too real: if men can fall out of love with our favorite pop star, what hope do the rest of us have? The track captures that universal sting with one of her most biting lines—“He used to be literally obsessed with me, now I’m suddenly the least sought after girl in the land.” It’s self-aware, funny, and devastating all at once.
The beat and rhythm of “Nobody’s Son” is the equivalent of holding a smile on your face while you have heartbreak sitting like a rock in the back of your throat. In the sixth track on the album, Carpenter bitterly addresses a partner’s mother with the line “he sure fucked me up. And, yes, I’m talkin’ ’bout your baby.” Alongside the sting, she captures the graceful ache of surrender, throwing in the towel, finally admitting to there being “nobody’s son, not anyone” left to believe in.
Arguably one of the album’s most sarcastic, yet charmingly blunt tracks, “Never Getting Laid” is almost too relatable and too catchy to skip. Carpenter abandons the high road, cursing her subject with agoraphobia (seriously) and “a lifetime full of happiness and a forever of never getting laid.” Its ethereal chorus, paired with more subdued verses, captures the duality at the heart of the song: the rush of immature thoughts spilling out, followed by the quick composure that comes after.
After singing about her breakup struggles after “Nobody’s Son” and “Never Getting Laid”, Carpenter thoughtfully places “When Did You Get Hot?” A hit focusing on potential newfound hope. The funky, R&B melody channels the thrill of an exciting new partner entering your life, setting the track to be a good getting-ready-for-a-first-date song.
With a playful cheekiness reminiscent of Katy Perry’s “Peacock,” “House Tour,” the eleventh track on the album, delivers a slew of sexual innuendos and sneaky metaphors wrapped in funky production. Lyrically, the song teases the listener with taboos if they are paying close attention. With lines like ‘I can take you to the first, second, third floor,’ Carpenter leaves listeners with just enough to decode, and plenty left to the imagination.
In what feels inspired by the ABBA covers Carpenter sang during her international “Sweet ‘N’ Sour” tour, “Goodbye” feels like a fresh breath of air once you leave toxicity, letting the upbeat tone make you want to wear a flowy skirt and spin in circles. “Did you forget that it was you who said goodbye? So you don’t get to be the one who cries.” Talk about knowing your target audience.
“Man’s Best Friend” isn’t a piece of political artistry, but that’s because it was never meant to be. Despite all of the backlash Carpenter received for the record’s risque cover art and raunchy lyrics, the album serves a purpose that is integral in its own sense: it’s music for the girls, by one that understands them. The album may not be something to note in the history books, but it feels like a long phone call with a close friend.
Copy edited by Matt Brady
