Man’s Best Friend (2025), a review

Some people are taking this ruff.

I don’t get you people.

Sabrina Carpenter, the current pop starlet tearing up the charts, has returned with a record of mostly-good pop music that has a consistent lyrical theme, and you’re mad about it?

I don’t want this to turn into a spiel about the place of pop music, or the damage of poptimism, or anything else that complains about the taste levels of the audience. It is not the consumer’s job to force themselves into the position of fan for any piece of media. There are enough fellations in text for the least interesting musician and musician-like performers around to do that. You are not about to find a screed about “media literacy” that is secretly stan behaviour here.

But I am a bit confused by the response I’ve seen for ‘Man’s Best Friend’ (2025), and what people built up in their head in regard to Sabrina Carpenter the Pop Star.

To be blunt, Carpenter’s last three albums have been a steady move towards a style of songwriting that speaks towards universal ideas (I’m sad, He’s dumb, We’re horny, ect.) that is better suited for hitmaking than her previous output. After years of failing to make traction as a teen pop idol, her skyrocket to fame has come with a codified aesthetic of frothy blonde hair, a mask-like makeup look, and tongue-in-cheek songwriting that often eschews vulnerability. The hits are frilly and built for summer, and the music videos are big and cinematic. It’s all pretty fun.

Then again, it’s also true that the tabloid bent to ‘Short n’ Sweet’ (2024) really did push it over the line for some people. Songs like ‘Sharpest Tool’ and ‘Coincidence’ were biting even through the sing-a-long choruses and bubbly humour. It’s a record that tells a complete story, which ‘Man’s Best Friend’ pointedly does not do. There’s no push and pull between the songs. Instead, they’re linked through themes of lust, frustration, and the embarrassment of being attracted to men she knows are beneath her.

The album opens with ‘Manchild’, the summer hit that I remain mostly tepid on. It’s a return to the formula set by ‘Please, Please, Please’, with an added dash of humour and none of that song’s more vulnerable moments. Instead, she condescends to the manchild in question, turning her annoyance into giddy laughter. It’s a fun move in theory, and really does represent the album in its entirety, but never really transcends. It is just ‘Please, Please, Please’ 2.0, but meaner. On the album itself, it’s a decent opener.

‘Tears’ is the latest single and takes a disco approach to the topic of getting excited over the bare minimum, and arguably represents the album’s too-early peak. It’s glorious and funny and sophisticated, and if the album never has a third single, this is all you really need on the radio.

The rest of the album plays through and expands on the various nostalgia sounds the Carpenter has spent the past few years playing with. ‘Nobody’s Son’ plays with reggae-pop sounds ala Ace of Base, ‘Go Go Juice’ is an improvement on the country style ‘Slim Pickin’s’ did on the previous record, and the R’n’B tracks ‘When Did You Get Hot?’ and ‘House Tour’ are extremely fun.

In terms of the writing, the best of it remains cheeky and performed with a smirk. Lots of set up and punch line writing, best heard on the slow dance ‘Never Getting Laid’, where Carpenter sweetly hopes her ex-boyfriend will remain celibate. The only real stumble in this regard is the cloying ‘My Man on Willpower’, where the line between playful and annoying is poorly tread and her insecurity becomes overbearing. I’d say this is a brief moment of vulnerability that is definitely appreciated on a record that sounds this impersonal, but the following track ‘Sugar Talking’ both sounds more authentic and sounds better. It’s maybe the best non-single here.

The album is an excellent collection of songs and future singles. Jack Antonoff and John Ryan both produce some of their best work here, and the vocal production here on Carpenter manages to avoid the grating quality that was sprinkled through ‘Short n’ Sweet’. There’s an active switch from the brittle falsetto she sometimes favours to something airier and sweeter, which I personally appreciated.

The “fan” reaction being so tepid does not read to me as a failure. Moreso, it is an embrace of the actual audience for someone like Carpenter. Swift also releases music to online criticism and whinging (I’ve done it) and widespread success. ‘Man’s Best Friend’ is a triumph for Carpenter, who has managed to find a persona that is widely appealing and seemingly flexible enough for her to remain feeling human. That is an inherited skill from Swift. But more than that, she’s able to fill a sexualised but funny niche without embarrassing herself, and the music is arguably better than ever.

There’s a lot of talk recently about “pop’s middle class”, which is a fine way to approach music. Artists like Tinashe have proven that, in some cases, it’s the best way to ensure quality output. But those performers are gambling on a certain audience remaining invested over a period of decades, and pop music is about making art for the masses. Pop stans like their mid-level pop stars because they feel like they have an element of control. But Carpenter isn’t available on that level anymore, and clearly is more attuned to what the average consumer wants than thirty-somethings on Reddit and Twitter who seemed ready to despise the album the moment it was announced. They feel like experts, which makes them obnoxious.

‘Man’s Best Friend’ is a solid album with a lot of great pop songs. I’m sure any person who has liked a Sabrina Carpenter song in the past will find something they like here. Or they’ll tell me otherwise.