Causing a stir is the proven way to stay relevant in pop music. If the songwriting is not strong enough, then it is the visual which keeps the conversation alive. Sabrina Carpenter remains vaguely unconvincing as an artist, but she has undeniably used the broad strokes of pop cliche to find herself at the very top of the charts. Manchild is a capitalisation on the success of Short ‘n’ Sweet. A shareholder’s fundamental. People want more? Give them more. A continuation of the relationships and empowerment that Carpenter fans believe she provides. Water cooler moments put to song. The conversation has drifted from the qualities, or lack thereof, of her new song Manchild, and into whether Carpenter is setting the world back with an album cover. We step further from the light of context every day. This is another This is Hardcore situation. What the artist intends is of no consequence now, because the viewer has made up their own mind independent of information.
But Manchild is not a back door for discussion on album covers, which are both appealing to the male gaze yet fundamentally inoffensive, for the context of the artist’s comments sheds more light on it. Manchild is the relatively tame, plain songwriting expected of Carpenter now that she has hit the top of the charts with manufactured, catchy tunes. Learning from Short ‘n’ Sweet, Carpenter now aims for 1980s-themed workout music with her synth-heavy single. Audience interaction is at the core of this song, the breaks between questions at the start of the song, the “stupid” and “slow” set to be chanted by stadium attendees who would be as excited by finding a collection of marbles in their coat pocket. Sever the relationship between Carpenter and these online addicts, and what you have is a strong pop song. Jack Antonoff, the fourth Ghost of Christmas, has his hands all over this production.
A shame he does, too. Lyrically, Manchild is a definite victory for Carpenter, whose preceding works were of the same topic but relatively unconvincing and playing into a stereotype which has seen the male gaze fitted into her core audience. Manchild does the same, but it has a few moments of worth, a collection of powerful jabs at former relationships. It is a song almost entirely dependent on drama. Do you care for the fallout between Carpenter and Barry Keoghan? Or do you wish to live in a world where you can watch The Banshees of Inisherin and make no connection to Tall Girl, which Carpenter featured in? There is a call for independence in this song which, like Lorde’s Man of the Year, is set to be manipulated beyond its original meaning on TikTok.
Another shame, because it is this social consciousness which gives music a new layer, and when it is always the plodding, main character energy which features so predominantly online. Whether Carpenter means to draw us in and repel us with the image and response is yet to be seen. Manchild suggests there is little more to the album than a reactionary, catchy song. Catchy is crucial, though. It is what makes or breaks a modern-day pop song, irrespective of its perspective or thought. Carpenter offers a very simple message to an ever-growing sea of fans. The subtleties of her on-stage presence and in-person comments, be it on album covers or the wider works, do not match up with the objectively plain back-and-forth her songs, especially Manchild in the hands of Antonoff. Still, catchy is crucial, and that is what this is.
