Olivia Rodrigo might have believed she had the upper hand for a while there after the release of “drivers license” followed by her runaway hit of a debut album, Sour, but the “fringe” subject of her songs, Sabrina Carpenter, was apparently biding her time all along. Waiting for the fanfare to die down so that she might finally tell her side of the story. Or at least, another side. For Rodrigo has had the monopoly on what many consider to be a manufactured love triangle for so long now, that it’s difficult to remember a time in pop culture when Carpenter and Joshua Bassett weren’t summarily written off as trash for breaking Rodrigo’s heart—Carpenter being someone who did so in a de facto manner by “sticking her claws in.” By being a “homewrecker” (a word she uses herself in the much talked about “because i liked a boy”).
The album commences with its thesis, the eponymous “emails i can’t send.” It’s a title that speaks to this idea that all the things we really want to say out loud or to someone in person tend to be written down in a burst, likely in the Notes or Drafts sections of our various tech apparatuses. However, if one is lucky enough to be a songwriter, those “emails” might just get “sent” in song format. A medium that’s deemed far less scandalous than just telling someone what you feel directly (something Britney urged long ago on “E-Mail My Heart“—in an era when e-mails were spelled with a dash and felt far more epistolary than they do now). It has undoubtedly been easier (and more lucrative) for both Carpenter and Rodrigo to hide behind their songs as they brandish lashing, accusatory words. As Carpenter also did back in 2021 after Rodrigo released “drivers license,” responding with “Skin,” which featured such lyrics as, “You’re tellin’ me how you see it/Like truth is whatever you decide.” But clearly, she, as a Taurus and the niece of Bart Simpson (Nancy Cartwright), knows she can’t be trifled with. That she has her own Truth to display, and it doesn’t make Rodrigo look very pretty (unless you were to remove the “r” from that word).
But before Carpenter gets to that brunette, she deals with the roots of every girl’s issues: Daddy. It’s not exactly a secret that Bassett “cheating” (“guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor”) on Rodrigo with Carpenter psychologically feeds back into the fact that her own father was unfaithful. A topic she addresses with complete candor on “emails i can’t send” as she accuses, in her most Rodrigo-sounding tone, “And thanks to you, I, I can’t love right/I get nice guys and villainize [vilify didn’t rhyme well enough with “guys,” it appears] them/Read their texts like they’re havin’ sex right now/Scared I’ll find out that it’s true/And if I do, then I blame you/For every worst that I assume.” It doesn’t stop there, with Carpenter adding, “When I’m forty-five, someone calls me their wife/And he fucks our lives in one selfish night/Don’t think I’ll find forgiveness as fast as Mom did/And God, I love you, but you’re such a dipshit/Please fuckin’ fix this/‘Cause you were all I looked up to/Now I can’t even look at you.” For those who would say that Carpenter is being “too harsh” on her father, she concludes with a ready-made response in the form of a reference to “Cell Block Tango”: “As they say in Chicago, ‘He had it comin’.”
What follows is the aptly-titled “Vicious.” Produced by Jason Evigan and Amy Allen, the song’s more up-tempo rhythm actually has echoes of “brutal” in the strumming instrumentation. But Carpenter is much more soft-spoken as she laments, “Oh, you’re so vicious/Love me, then pretend you didn’t/Crush my heart and wreck my image/Why you gotta be so vicious?” And while Carpenter can try to say it’s about a more “general” experience with an ex, it seems tailor-made for Bassett, who reared his viciousness several times throughout the relationship, including when he chose Carpenter’s May 11th birthday as an appropriate date to align himself with the LGBTQIA+ community in 2021, while they were still dating. And sure, that’s all fine and good, but any straight woman would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit miffed when her boyfriend decided to come out just “ever so” on her birthday. It would undoubtedly make any girl feel a bit inadequate—though it definitely plays into the consolation Billie Eilish was looking for when she said, “I just kind of wish you were gay.”
And if only Bassett could have admitted his crush on Harry Styles sooner, maybe it would have spared Rodrigo and Carpenter the pain. But then again, that pain wouldn’t have helped fill their bank accounts. Carpenter, too, seems to take Rodrigo’s stance on “deja vu,” telling Bassett, “You like a certain type of woman/Who’s smart, but neglects intuition/When you’re insecure, could be me, could be her/You just run to whoever is winning/Said that it was me and you for life/Now you’re kinda acting like I died.”
Carpenter also knows how to deliver a very effective bridge (though it’s still not quite “drivers license” level) as she wails, “You don’t feel remorse, you don’t feel the effects/‘Cause you don’t think you hurt me if you wish me the best/I shoulda known all along, I was only the next one/To take your love songs as a promise.” This is where Olivia would pop out to yell, “I fuckin’ told you so.” As she did with the line, “Guess you didn’t mean what you wrote in that song about me/‘Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street.” But maybe now, Olivia doesn’t have to—Sabrina can join her in the front seat. They certainly seem like they would be game enough to share a vehicle space after being pictured together at this year’s Met Gala (even though the image makes it look as though Rodrigo is kind of screaming at Carpenter, but whatever—it’s “something”).
The same viciousness in a male love interest is presented on “Read your Mind,” with the suitor in question being unwilling to “officially” commit. In this way, the song serves as something of Carpenter’s own version of Katy Perry’s “Hot n Cold.” One minute, he’s interested, the next he’s acting like a prat, “wastin’ all our time,” as Carpenter says. But more specifically, her time. Prompting her to reflect, “To think that we could be casual/You’re not my friend/And baby, you never were/Why the fuss/If you say you just wanna be mine?/I can’t read your mind.” The track has a decidedly Harry Styles (with a dash of Carly Rae Jepsen) feel to it (think: “Late Night Talking”), and Carpenter never quite resolves to rid herself of this wishy-washy bloke.
Just one of many “Tornado Warnings” a.k.a. red flags that Carpenter opted to ignore in favor of keeping a flagrantly inadequate relationship going. This and so many other topics are acknowledged on the song, including how many tend to lie to their therapist to suit the “healthier” narrative. In addition to emulating Rodrigo’s shtick by mentioning driving in the bridge, Carpenter also does her best impression of Selena Gomez in the second verse, announcing, “I deserve an hour in a week/To focus on my thoughts/Not so obsessed with yours/I can’t hear myself speak I deserve my own consideration/Sometimes I wish I kept/Some of my feelings in the basement/So I’d still have some left.” But obviously, she does—and they’ve all been poured into this album. One that Julia Michaels was quick to shade by taking the credit for it. While Michaels gushed supportively on the first day of the album’s release, “Emails I can’t send is out nowwwwwwwww. So proud of you @sabrinacarpenter you really put every damn piece of your heart and soul into this. So happy everyone gets to experience it now thank you for so many memoriessssss I love you very much,” it didn’t take her long to switch gears a bit by soon after declaring, “But I thought you hate the way I write cause fyi…I wrote F**king all of these.” Seems there’s just something about Carpenter that makes California girls go apeshit on her.
That much is fully spotlighted on “because i liked a boy,” one of the most standout songs on emails i can’t send. Which is also why it’s the latest single to promote the record (complete with a circus-themed video that showcases how Carpenter took on the off-limits aesthetics of Britney Spears the way J. Lo recently did with Madonna’s Catholic steez for a song on the Marry Me Soundtrack). Here, too, Carpenter would like to claim it has nothing to do with Bassett or Rodrigo, insisting, “One of my favorite movies is Easy A, and I was sort of picturing Emma Stone’s character because she was labeled to be something. It’s a weirdly empowering film in a sense. She uses humor to deflect her pain and what she’s going through and I do that too.” Deflection is definitely in use with that comment as well, with Carpenter side-stepping the admission that she was painted as the villain in the love triangle—because women tend to bear the brunt of all public floggings, even when it is the man in question who is responsible for the traitorous actions of his own penis. Of course, everyone loves to paint the picture of a nasty Jezebel, an evil temptress. And with this Scarlet A Carpenter was branded, rehashing in the chorus, “I’m a homewrecker, I’m a slut I got death threats fillin’ up semi-trucks/Tell me who I am, guess I don’t have a choice/All because I liked a boy/And all of this for what?/When everything went down, we’d already broken up/Please, tell me who I am, guess I don’t have a choice/All because I liked a boy.”
It all speaks to the ways in which women are, to this day, conveniently filed to one side of the Madonna/whore spectrum. And yes, this song would make for a perfect mash-up with Marina and the Diamonds’ “Homewrecker.” Unfortunately for Carpenter, taking the gamble on Bassett’s peen was hardly worth the internet onslaught. But again, it was definitely worth all the songwriting inspo, as Rodrigo can attest.
The more upbeat, guitar-driven “Already Over” rewinds in the timeline slightly to ruminate on how Carpenter shouldn’t have let the friendship between her and Bassett escalate to anything beyond that. And how, once it did transcend into something sexual, she ought to have put the kibosh on it way sooner. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. The song also touches on the theme of a toxic dynamic that’s never really over (once more, a Katy Perry influence) via the lines, “After the aftermath, I know you’ll be comin’ back/To the back bedroom, and it won’t be the last/Of the aftermath, I know you’ll be comin’ back.” Maybe even with Rodrigo for the inevitable ménage à trois. The only logical denouement for their collective “closure.”
Giving herself more fully to a country twang on “how many things,” it’s also another prime example of a slow jam similar to one of Rodrigo’s on Sour. In the spirit of “enough for you” or “favorite crime,” Carpenter rues, “I wonder how many things you think about/Before you get to me/I wonder how many things you wanna do/You think I’m in-between/I feel myself falling further down your priorities/And I still make excuses for you constantly.” In contrast, Carpenter admits, “I consider you, and I’m not trying to/It doesn’t matter whether or not I want to I can’t help it, it’s a habit/Your corner in my mind is well-established.”
Distinctive from the other songs that came before because of its dance-oriented sensibilities, “bet u wanna” is the perfect revenge track—one that any girl would want to hear played as a battling cry “in da club.” As Carpenter discovers her worth in the wake of being ditched, she taunts the man who dared to break up with her, “Didn’t think about it when you let me down/Hurts to see me out of your reach/Bet you wanna touch me now.” But, as MC Hammer once said, “U Can’t Touch This.” Not anymore. Not after one had the gall to think he could find “better.” That’s why Carpenter also goads, “Chase me, chase me/That’s right, baby, yeah/Feel the way it feels/Whеn you don’t have control/Of who I’m holdin’/Is it feeding all your fears?” Here’s hoping.
Carpenter slows it down a bit for the mid-tempo “Nonsense,” which is her at her most Ariana Grande-esque (particularly the vibe of positions). The outro of the song even has a bit of “monopoly” flair, as Carpenter starts free-flowing with, “This song catchier than chickenpox is/I bet your house is where my other sock is/Woke up this morning, thought I’d write a pop hit/How quickly can you take your clothes off? Pop quiz/That one’s not gonna make it/Most of these aren’t gonna make—”
But before that, Carpenter admits that the new boo in her life has her all tongue-tied and titty-twisted as she sings, “I’ll be honest/Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense/Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in/And when you got your arms around me…/And I can’t find my chill, I must’ve lost it/I don’t even know, I’m talkin’ nonsense.” Love, or whatever, can do that to a girl. Just ask Fleabag.
Like something out of a 60s spy movie (as the accompanying video loosely alludes to), “Fast Times” lulls us back onto the dance floor again with its up-tempo pacing. It was written as a reminder to herself to enjoy the luxury of “youthful folly” and how the “virtue” of being young is what gives so many an ephemeral pass to act a fool before they theoretically “mature.” Thus, Carpenter makes no apologies as she describes, “These are fast times and fast nights, yeah/No time for rewrites, we couldn’t help it/Outlines on bed sides, yeah/Give me a second to forget I evеr really meant it/Fast times and fast nights, yеah/Closed eyes and closed blinds, we couldn’t help it.” In other words, “Officer, I’m too young and hot to go to jail.” And also, “Internet, I can’t be held responsible for being rich and reckless.”
As the first single from emails i can’t send, “skinny dipping” holds a special place on the record. Speaking to the difficulty of trying to be friends with an ex, Carpenter is on her Taylor Swift songwriting tip (something Rodrigo knows how to emulate all too well) in terms of her more vivid descriptions. This includes her opening setup, “It’ll be a Wednesday/And I’ll be going to this coffee shop/Hear the barista call an oat milk latte and your name/And I look up from my phone/And think there’s no chance it’s you, but it is.” From there, Carpenter bemoans the impossibility of being both vulnerable and formal in a situation like this, declaring in the chorus, “We’ve been swimming on the edge of a cliff I’m resistant, but goin’ down with the ship/It’d bе so nice, right? Right?/If we could take it all off and just еxist/And skinny dip in water under the bridge.” Alas, that would definitely blur the lines of the relationship.
That “blur” certainly doesn’t yet exist in “Bad for Business,” another song that flip-flops in the proverbial timeline of a relationship, this moment embodying the sex-drenched beginning. So sex-drenched, in fact, that it prompts Carpenter to worry, “If I’m just writing happy songs, will anybody sing along?” Thus this boy being “bad for business.” A.k.a. the potential for her singles to chart well.
Torn between the joys of boning and the drawbacks of losing her angsty artistic creativity when she’s happy, Carpenter sings, “He’s good, it’s bad/The best I’ve ever had…/He ruined all my plans/And he just makes me so crazy/I know everyone sees/That he’ll be the death of me.” Turns out, he was the salvation as “whoever it was” (*cough cough* Bassett) ended up disappointing her enough to result in the finale to emails i can’t send: the fittingly-titled “decode.” For who isn’t constantly trying to decode whatever missive they’re sent from a significant other, whether current or ex? Whether in email or text.
But here, Carpenter is making peace with the idea that there’s nothing left to decode, nothing left to examine. She’s already “overanalyzed it/Front, back and beside it/Where else can we go?/There’s nothing left here to decode/Done looking for signs in/The gaps and the silence/It’s just gettin’ old.” And that’s something that takes a lot for a Taurus to concede, as “letting go” certainly isn’t that sign’s strong suit. Nor is the ability to admit that there are many situations they can’t control.
One thing the Taurus always excels in, however, is being blunt as fuck (rather like Pisces, the sign under which Rodrigo falls). Carpenter was able to heighten that skill by pretending as though these songs were originally “emails” she would never dare send or show to anyone, which was how the genesis of the title track arose: by being “one of the songs that came out of this structure.” Carpenter also noted of “emails i can’t send,” “This song reminds me of my childhood. I think anytime you start to process why you are the way you are, maybe because of things that happened in your childhood, it’s always a sad realization to come to. It’s also sad when you grow up and the characters in the storybooks were not who you thought they were. I knew it would be called “emails i can’t send” just purely from the way that I was writing it—almost as if it was a word vomit email.”
Luckily, Carpenter’s word vomit is our pop music gold. Much to Rodrigo’s chagrin. And while both albums end on a “let’s just end this like we should and say we’re good” note, Rodrigo’s “hope ur ok” (which isn’t directed at Bassett at all) sounds a little too zen compared to what Carpenter has to offer on “decoded” and emails i can’t send as a whole.
