Short n' Sweet completes Sabrina Carpenter's mainstream breakthrough

Carpenter has had all it needs to be one. Her debut song “Can’t Blame a Girl for Trying” – released a decade ago via Hollywood – was a universally accessible girls’ anthem with catchy choruses and sweet oh-ohs. Fast forward to now, five albums after, and her sizable establishment in the swarming pop realm is on the brink of becoming a household name; a plethora of press since “Espresso”’s astounding success has flooded all platforms and playlists. Everything from the beginning has built up to this moment, which may be why she isn’t “stunned” by the burgeoning popularity. It’s long overdue.

The architecture of Short n’ Sweet is nothing but on trend. It bolsters the modern audience’s penchant for subject relatability and is replete with memeable catchphrases and punchlines designed for sharing. Dolly Parton-flavoured “Slim Pickins” throws gasp-provoking lines like “This boy doesn’t even know the difference between ‘their’, ‘there’, and ‘they’re’” and “The Lord forgot my gay awakening”. Carpenter and often-credited songwriter Amy Allen’s pen in its ripest form, which has previously had listeners joyfully impart “so true, bestie”, is what catapults her career to rapid global stardom. The Billboard Chart reigning “Please Please Please” and “Espresso” stand as its sweaty-in-spirit showpieces.

Despite boasting musical variety, Short n’ Sweet gropes safely for brief romances and situationships. How she approaches the matter is a double-edged sword. On tracks like “Sharpest Tool” and “Lie to Girls”, words feel immediate and unedited, as if written during a ride home following the disappointing encounter. Sometimes choruses are plain repetitions of a sentence, and verses mere fragments of it. The blunt roughness rewards a badge of raw honesty, but is vitiated by the narrative that’s in part at odds with itself. “Please Please Please” constructs an order of conduct for her partner, then “Good Graces” does it again with complementary threats of a “cute ass bye-bye”.

Listening to the album in full dawns a crippling realisation: Carpenter and co chose those with the greatest production as singles. Both take pride in compositions as cerebral and kittenish as the singer’s humour. “Bad Chem” and “Juno” come in second, both produced by John Ryan and Ian Kirkpatrick, imitating the feel-good music of the 2010s: modernised 80s-style disco with sunshine synths atop. Other songs, such as “Coincidence”, “Dumb & Poetic”, and “Lie to Girls”, pale in comparison as Carpenter’s budding signature gives in to more sombre lyrics and static tunes. Short n’ Sweet inevitably trips into a grievously wobbly and inconsistent territory because of them.

In today’s context, Short n’ Sweet isn’t too radical to be unmarketable. Carpenter, who already has “Sue Me” and “Thumbs” on her board of hits, is experienced enough to handpick melodies perfect for widespread commercial use – even though some singular lyrics need censoring. It’s a different discourse, however, when considering the record amongst her discography. 2022’s emails i can’t send features her most unforgettable kickstarters (“Nonsense”, “because i liked a boy”) that are diverse in subject matter and poised in risk taking. Short n’ Sweet may arrive at the right time for her, but it’s often too tame, too comfy and untidy – a designated mainstream rather than artistic breakthrough.