Sabrina Carpenter and summertime have a lot in common: a penchant for nostalgia, brash flirtatiousness, and now, Short n' Sweet. Before the season had even begun — and long into its BRAT-ification of bumpin' that to stronger stimulants — Carpenter kept us wide-eyed and energized with unexpected breakthrough single "Espresso," continuing her chart-topping reign with her first number one, "Please Please Please." Carpenter is short ("Five feet, to be exact," she makes clear seconds into her sixth album) and the stakes have never been higher — but she manages to just reach them in her knee-high platform boots.
It's difficult to pinpoint what makes "Espresso" so compelling, which might actually be what makes it compelling. Between its semi-sensical, straight outta '80s Italo disco "that's that me espresso" hook, and "I'm working late, cause I'm a singer" sung like a truism, there's an uncanniness tucked into its bubbly nu-disco. Manic, mantric chants of "Yes!" around Carpenter's syrupy assertion of "Say you can't sleep / Baby, I know" to a man wrapped tight 'round her finger has that me espresso looking like a love potion — and her spell clearly worked. Carpenter's personality felt buried before cheeky sleeper hit "Nonsense," and "Espresso" won over many a naysayer by shining a light on her raunchy, eccentric humour.
Carpenter has been aesthetically inspired by decades of Hollywood icons, and now, taps into them musically. The minimal production and subdued vocals of "Please Please Please" feel like a modern imagination of Nancy Sinatra, where the low country drawl of, "I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker" could be an ad-lib to Lee Hazlewood if cussing was okay in 1968. A tinge of unhinged creeps in as Carpenter tells her jester man "I know you're craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice!" but where she truly lets loose is in the horniness that seems to rarely leave Short n' Sweet. Angelyne-inspired '80s pop "Juno" riffs off its titular film and turns it X-rated, with baby fever made kinky by asking "Wanna try out my pink fuzzy handcuffs?" Carpenter's sleaze is campy fun, but it can get a bit much, even if you're not a pearl-clutcher.
While she never shies from explicit lyrics, Carpenter stays vague about her relationships. "Yeah, I know I've been known to share," she winks on "Taste," and if you know, you know, but if you don't, it's alright — her blunt honesty is more for sass than tabloid fodder. Campily seductive "Bed Chem" clearly recounts the meet-cute between her and (possibly ex-)boyfriend Barry Keoghan, but any girl kicking her chunky boots over the hormone headrush of a new crush can resonate with its lovestruck silliness. Sweeping chimes and "the thermostat set at six-nine" make it equally a lust song and self-parody, and one of many moments on Short n' Sweet where Carpenter's humour takes precedence over whoever she's seducing. Carpenter may not play about being the horniest girl alive, but it's clearly all a game to her.
But eventually, "give a fucks" have to return from vacation! Carpenter spends as much time reeling over complex relationships as she does flaunting her allure, feeling either spurned or empowered by being the other woman. Yet the emotional and sonic roller coaster of Short n' Sweet can cut its high points too quickly. "Coincidence" awkwardly dips into Joni Mitchell-aping stomp-clap-hey territory, and the Jack Antonoff-produced "Lie to Girls" indulges in the bland synths and reverb-heavy stacked vocals he's often criticized for. Tough yet tender "Dumb & Poetic" is striking in its power, but makes for an awkward caffeine crash after "Espresso."
Carpenter's pen has sharpened quite a bit since the "forks are fuckin' everywhere" of "how many things," but Short n' Sweet still has some lyrical flubs. Most confusing is "Sharpest Tool," on which Carpenter sings that "We had sex, I met your best friends / Then a bird flies by and you forget." Her impressive vocals on "Dumb & Poetic" save "Jack off to lyrics by Leonard Cohen" from the flavour of cringe in boygenius's song about the songwriter, and aim that discomfort at its faux-intellectual subject. Carpenter's twisted humour really can make you laugh so often, depending on whether puns and candidness are your love language too.
emails i can't send saw Carpenter switching between folk, R&B, country and disco-inflected pop somewhat disjointedly, but Short n' Sweet genre hops much more cohesively, her strong personality holding it all together. It's dry out here for a thirsty girl, as country-fried "Slim Pickins" makes clear, its wry whimsy falling neatly into the wordplay and dry humour of the genre. But country girls make do, and self-deprecating jabs over sleeping with a boy who "doesn't even know the difference between 'there,' 'their' and 'they are'" is a strong example of her endearing cheekiness.
Though Short n' Sweet falls a few inches short of the masterful pop its singles suggested it could be, it's buoyed up by its incredibly high highs, and establishes Carpenter's identity in a pop landscape saturated with next-main-pop-girl hopefuls. Permanent sad girl fall has overstayed its welcome, and Carpenter has earned her flowers and superstar status for being one of several artists who finally brought some sun-kissed summer fun. Is it that sweet? I guess so!