Sabrina Carpenter’s “Man’s Best Friend” Delivers Pop Appeal, But Misses Lyrical Depth

When “Manchild” hit streaming platforms in June, it signaled one thing: Sabrina Carpenter was back to reclaim her pop star crown after a brief touring break.

However, when she announced her seventh studio album, Man’s Best Friend, that same month, the question on many lips was: “So soon?” Carpenter’s answer was, “Yes.” There’s only a year and six days between this album and her Grammy-winning sixth project, Short ’n’ Sweet.

When the official artwork was revealed, tongues wagged even more. Carpenter kneeling before a man appeared to contradict her playful, self-aware “man-hating” persona. According to Carpenter, though, people simply didn’t get the vision. But she did. And when Man’s Best Friend dropped in late August, listeners quickly caught on. The album went number one in over ten countries, including the U S and U.K, and added another accolade to her record: the female artiste with the most streams in a single day for an album in 2025. In that sense, she silenced critics who doubted her artistry before the release.

On first listen, Man’s Best Friend can seem underwhelming. It sounds softer than Short ’n’ Sweet and Emails I Can’t Send, blending disco, synth-rock, and R&B with scathing innuendos. It feels very different from the Carpenter who sang about fuzzy pink handcuffs and freaky positions in “Juno” – a track on Carpenter’s album Short n’ Sweet – just a year ago. Perhaps it’s no surprise, given her personal life took a drastic turn after her breakup with actor Barry Keoghan. On repeated listens, however, the album reveals itself as a story—a mirror into her love life. She moves from calling out her lover (likely Keoghan) in “Manchild” and “My Man on Willpower,” to bidding him sayonara in “Goodbye.” So yes, the album is Carpenter in breakup mode—feral, unashamedly horny, and unapologetically herself.

The album takes the route Carpenter knows best, using punchlines and her brand of sexual humor to convey emotion. In “Tears,” the line “a little communication is my idea of foreplay” signals to her lover to “man up” before they hit the brink of a breakup, and in “When Did You Get Hot?,” she’s eyeing a new prospect and basically asking him to “take me to naked Twister back at your place.” The innuendos aren’t the problem—but too much of a good thing can be.

Here, the overreliance on sexual humor becomes tiring, especially when it overshadows the songwriting that once set her apart. That’s surprising, given that Carpenter teamed again with frequent collaborators Amy Allen and Jack Antonoff, who helped craft her Grammy-winning last album. Somewhere along the line, though, the pen ink dulled.

The songs are catchy, TikTok masterpieces even. “Manchild” is an undeniable earworm (no wonder it’s still in the Billboard Hot 100’s Top 10), as are “House Tour” and “Go Go Juice.” But the lyrics often feel generic, even basic. Lines like “I’m so at peace / yeah, I can’t drink enough” in “Never Getting Laid” or “That boy is corrupt / get PTSD on the daily” in “Nobody’s Son” don’t live up to her reputation as one of pop’s main girls.

Still, among the twelve tracks, the internet has its clear favorites. “Manchild” may have reignited “Sabrina mania,” but “Nobody’s Son” resonates deeply with listeners who relate to her candid view of modern dating. What girl hasn’t felt a little PTSD from dating somebody’s son? The funk-pop “House Tour” is another banger, packed with clever puns, though Carpenter insists the song “is not a metaphor.” And “When Did You Get Hot?” has become an unofficial anthem for admiring men who got glow-ups out of nowhere.

It’s easy to see why fans love Carpenter: her lyrics are likable, sing-along-ready, and relatable. Still, Man’s Best Friend could have used a little less horndog energy and a stronger lyrical push.

The untapped gem of Man’s Best Friend is the closer, “Goodbye.” Arguably the best track on the album, it sees Carpenter bid farewell in French, English, British English, Italian, and Japanese, ending the chaotic chapter with the lover who made her feel like “the least sought-after girl in the land” in “My Man on Willpower.” The vocals soar, the production is lush, and the lyrics finally match the brilliance of Emails I Can’t Send. If any song deserves the official single treatment, it’s this one.

Ultimately, Man’s Best Friend is quintessential Carpenter—fun, breezy, and cheeky enough to make prudes clutch their pearls. But the album stumbles in lyrical depth, unable to reach the highs of Emails I Can’t Send or Short ’n’ Sweet. Not that it matters much.

Fans love it, the internet is feral for it, and it’s still holding strong in the Billboard 200 Top 10.