Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” was the fabric of summer 2024. It was so popular and many people finally stopped mispronouncing it as “expresso” (if only we could do the same with “expecially”).
Why did it catch on? Carpenter put together a mix of notes that only resonated together: retro/disco/bubblegum/country styles, explicit sexuality, blunt personality and ‘IDGAF’ edge.
Somehow, with her big hair, blushed cheeks and bold wardrobe, she was raw, real and authentic. Nowadays, we’re opposed to polished, but not when someone hits it so head on.
All of this met the 2024 moment.
Fast forward to today, and Carpenter is releasing a new album: Man’s Best Friend, her seventh studio album (yes, this girl is putting in serious studio time). For better or worse, it’s very much a sequel to her 2024 album, Short n’ Sweet. It feels a bit like “Espresso” ordered in decaf, in part because of proximity bias: let’s face it, we’re a little used to the whole Sabrina shtick. I’m not sure she really reinvented herself or did anything different – although, I guess that’s her whole point.
So in the long run, I’m glad she sticks with what she does best. In Man’s Best Friend, Carpenter doesn’t wax poetic: she just says it, often with help from Jack Antonoff. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t talented. You don’t have to be Shakespearean to land the lyric.
In “Nobody’s Son,” Carpenter sings, tongue-in-cheek (sometimes not even rhyming):
“He discovered self-control (he discovered it this week)” followed by, “Thought sleeping with you might help me decide but it was annoyingly good so thanks for making it worse.”
Nobody has incorporated the 2020s vernacular into their music better than Carpenter. It’s like she gets her voice from text messages exchanged across college campuses (with no AI to be found). You could say some of her one-liners are so stupid, they’re smart.
She twangs in the country-inspired “Go Go Juice”: “I’m just drinking to call someone/Ain’t nobody safe when I’m a little bit drunk/Could be John or Larry, gosh, who’s to say?/Or the one that rhymes with ‘villain’ if I’m feelin’ that way.”
The “villain” lyric is over-the-top fun (except for some guy likely named Dylan). And the beat is simply infectious and catchy.
Although she’s picking up on Gen Z slang, she’s also not afraid to dip into language from decades ago if it works at the moment. She drops a “no-siree” in “Nobody’s Son.”
Part of the joy is in Carpenter’s unpredictability. In “Never Getting Laid,” she declares: “I just hope you get agoraphobia someday.” It’s very left field, but intentionally so. Then, she vividly references a female with – let’s just say – more up top. And at the end of that same track, we hear an old school radio pumping out something like Dorothy’s “Somewhere Over The Rainbow.”
There’s a lot going on here – but it’s (for the most part) working.
It’s also worth noting that her articulation is direct. She hits her consonants with precision, almost like punctuation, which gives every line extra bite. The clear diction is part of her performance; it’s a sharpness that matches her attitude.
Although there’s plenty of sex – sometimes vivid (see nearly every line of “Tears”), sometimes implied (see the “back door” nod in “House Tour” – even though she claims it’s not a metaphor) and sometimes Greek (see “Zeus’s lightning rod” in “When Did You Get Hot?”) – the associated outrage feels outrageous. On CBS Mornings, Gayle King told Carpenter: “I think there’s some people listening to your music who will be clutching their pearls.”
Carpenter’s response was a pause, then: “Correct.”
That “pearl clutching” feels disproportionate and that entire conversation is growing old. Don’t get me wrong: Carpenter is not shy about language – she drops a favorite four-letter word nine times on the album. Her music isn’t for everyone. But there’s a clear double standard: men have been singing about sex forever (for some reason, I think of “Get Low” by Lil Jon – which my Cincinnati junior high school class ‘performed’ on gym floor dances two decades ago). So why is it shocking when a woman gets explicit in 2025? Maybe it’s her high-gloss presentation that throws people off. Regardless, the critique feels uninformed and sexist.
Her sexual courage is part of what makes her story sing. She finds power in vulnerability. In owning her sexuality and her “four personalities” (see “My Man on Willpower”), she’s empowering women (and all of us) to do the same. At the same time, Carpenter never lets go of another important truth: it’s not that serious.
Perhaps we can all find a little joy in not trying so hard.
This article appears in Aug 20 – Sep 2, 2025.