When Sabrina Carpenter took to Instagram to unveil the cover of her new album, “Man’s Best Friend,” earlier this year, it’s easy to see why responses were polarizing. “This set women back like 100 years,” X users wrote. “Does she have a personality outside of sex?” another added. The scandalizing image, depicting Carpenter bent over on all fours as her hair is tugged by the hand of a faceless male entity, dominated the spotlight during the promotional campaign for the pop superstar’s seventh studio album. Naturally, it would be difficult for anyone to form an opinion on the highly anticipated 12-track record in good faith.
Pressing play on the album’s second track “Tears” (the first new song following the smash single “Manchild”), I was greeted with a charming yet ominous strike of keys followed by a sultry delivery of “Uhh, chikatah” from the five-foot bombshell. The accusations surrounding “Man’s Best Friend” aren’t helped by the first hook, crooning, “tears run down my thighs,” but the track is actually quite witty and self-aware. During a groovy, funky verse on “Tears,” Carpenter delivers the line, “A little communication, yes, that’s my ideal foreplay,” signaling that she knows her standards for male partners are exceedingly low—and that she’s in on the bit. It doesn’t read to me that she’s celebrating her controversial taste in men, but rather admitting it, with some regret, to listeners.
Moments like “We Almost Broke Up Last Night” and “Never Getting Laid” remind me why the ex-Disney starlet struggled to puncture the mainstream pop scene until her sixth studio album Short n’ Sweet. The numbers clearly signaled that listeners weren’t interested in the Gracie Abrams-esque songwriting Carpenter had been churning out on “emails i can’t send,” and regrettably, parts of “Man’s Best Friend,” before she finally cracked the code with “Espresso” in 2024. Carpenter shines more through her sharp melodic instincts than through her attempts to be the “writer girl.” In a way, her consistent efforts to weave these attempted esoteric and confessional mementos throughout the track list suggest that she isn’t fully confident in her role as a songwriter in a culture that demands diaristic writing.
On the album’s highlight, “House Tour,” Carpenter nails the balance between cheeky innuendos and infectious pop melodies. “I promise none of this is a metaphor. I just want you to come inside,” Carpenter declares. The song is accompanied by a track that could have only been executed by the ultimate sidekick of the modern pop girl: Jack Antanoff (seriously, no one can get enough of this guy). Pulling from classic ‘80s production elements reminiscent of Aqua and Madonna, the song is a nauseatingly bubblegum-pop soundscape with a groovy, brassy synthesizer so addicting I couldn’t stop replaying the hook.
After giving “Man’s Best Friend” a thorough spin, it’s hard to ignore the blatant hypocrisy and ignorance within some of the criticism of Carpenter’s lyrics when scrutinized for being overly promiscuous. It seems like today’s male artists are able to get away with far more crude references in their work than their female counterparts are. Yes, it’s worth acknowledging that Carpenter’s apparent obsession with sex and sexuality as artistic themes can grow fatiguing, but I don’t believe this album portrays her in a frivolous light. “Man’s Best Friend” is an audacious, intelligent commentary on Carpenter’s experience with womanhood in 2025. Whether “Stan-Twitter” aficionados share that same experience is trivial to the album’s mission statement.
