Cait Mckinzie
A decade after the release of her debut album, “Eyes Wide Open,” Sabrina Carpenter has fully reimagined herself in the public eye. Seven albums, several world tours, a stint as an opener for Taylor Swift and a Grammy award later, Carpenter is no longer a bright-eyed 16-year-old crooning about young love and the growing pains of adolescence.
Her latest musical work, the highly anticipated “Man’s Best Friend,” is a far cry from the innocent tunes she began her career with. The album is a natural evolution of its predecessor, “Short n’ Sweet,” complete with the same tongue-in-cheek lyricism and expertly layered vocals.
However, if “Short n’ Sweet” was Carpenter dipping her toe into a raunchy and wild vibe, “Man’s Best Friend” is her jumping straight into the deep end.
The album kicks off with the track “Manchild,” an upbeat ode to the incompetent men she somehow always finds herself seeing, with a slight country sound. What follows is a tour of heartbreak and disappointment in dating, only slightly disguised by the funky guitar riffs, synths and disco-inspired beats that make up the sound of the album.
The lead single and accompanying music video for “Manchild” were released in June, just six days before she revealed the cover and title of the album, which immediately caused a bit of a storm online.
Though Carpenter has been leaning more into the sex-themed image that we’ve seen all over this album for quite some time now, many online felt that the album art, in which Carpenter is on her hands and knees in front of what appears to be a man in a suit holding her hair in one hand, took it too far.
Despite the album not yet being available at the time and, therefore, the theme of the lyrics being wholly unknown, the general criticism was that the album cover art and thus this newest album was derogatory toward women, with some going as far as to say it was “anti-feminist” or “setting the women’s rights movement back.”
Never mind the obvious irony in the cover art of an album titled “Man’s Best Friend,” in which she appears to be walked like a dog by a faceless man. For anyone reading who didn’t get it: It’s a nod at being called a bitch.
Now, putting aside the irony in the discourse over whether her sexual expression is too much for a movement that has very deep roots in women’s sexual freedom, the album itself pretty much blows that criticism out of the water.
Though no more singles were released before the album dropped, a music video for the second track, “Tears,” was released at the same time as the album, and it’s Carpenter in all her film-loving, humorous lyric-writing glory.
The ’70s-inspired aesthetic that Carpenter leans into for much of the album is on full display visually in the “Tears” music video, a clear nod to the cult-classic 1975 film “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” The video follows the same plot beats as the movie, is shot with a moving camera that mirrors the filming of the movie and features actor Colman Domingo as a drag queen very obviously inspired by Tim Curry as Frank-N-Furter.
Carpenter’s brand of horny pop may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but there’s no denying that Carpenter knows exactly what she’s doing with her artistic direction.
The 12-track album is laden with dirty jokes that are timed perfectly to lighten the overall sense of romantic disappointment laced throughout and rarely strays from the sonic influence of artists such as Dolly Parton, ABBA and the Bee Gees.
Alongside collaborators Jack Antonoff, Amy Allen and John Ryan, Carpenter managed to maintain a general sense of bemusement while tackling the woes of modern dating, masterfully blending themes of feeling unloved and ignored with her honeyed vocals and beats that could get just about anyone dancing.
She wishes an ex a future of never-ending celibacy on “Never Getting Laid” and calls out a lover for never backing up shallow words of affection on “Sugar Talking.”
The album is not without Carpenter’s signature sense of self-awareness, with the self-deprecating “Don’t Worry I’ll Make You Worry,” tackling her own actions in her relationships.
Overall, Carpenter’s latest musical composition is layered and nuanced, with innuendoes that are hard to miss, expertly hiding the more painful emotions just below the surface. “Man’s Best Friend” isn’t the kind of album where you can listen once and catch everything woven into the tracks.
It’s a delicate line that Carpenter has mastered with a wink and a laugh, and if the humor doesn’t land, her vocals certainly make up for it.
The ’70’s disco influence provides a sparkly backdrop for her signature humor and catchy melodies, making it the perfect album for a quick dance break or for taking out your frustrations with dating.
Reach Hannah Parcells at entertainment@collegian.com or on social media @hannahparcells.