In the past, it was sometimes hard to work out who Sabrina Carpenter was. Her early albums, like 2015’s ‘Eyes Wide Open’ and its 2016 follow-up ‘Evolution’, presented a young pop star trying to find her groove but instead getting lost in the trends of the time. It wasn’t until 2022’s ‘Emails I Can’t Send’ – Carpenter’s fifth album, but also the first where she had full creative control – that her pop personality started to crystallise, evident in the coy cheek of ‘Nonsense’ and the addictive strut of ‘Feather’.
In the two years since that record was released, Carpenter has finally become a bona fide pop icon in the making. Her explicit, viral ‘Nonsense’ outros, tailored to the city she was performing in, endeared her to hordes of new fans. ‘Espresso’, the quip-heavy first single from her latest record ‘Short n’ Sweet’, was inescapable this summer. A supporting run on Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour, a solid Coachella appearance and a headline-grabbing relationship have all boosted her profile even more.
As ‘Short n’ Sweet’ arrives, then, it feels like the 25-year-old singer is at something of a turning point. Keep Carpenter’s musical calling cards, justify the hype, and she’ll soon be levelling up to major festival headliner – and this record largely gets the job done.
Sassy, flirty lines and lyrics that put Carpenter’s romantic partners in their place are the order of the day here. “I know you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed,” she sings gently on ‘Sharpest Tool’. “We had sex, I met your best friends / And then a bird flies by and you forget.” Moments later, on the twanging ‘Coincidence’, she rolls her eyes at a lover failing to hide that he’s crawling back to his ex: “What a surprise, your phone just died / Your car drove itself from LA to her thighs.”
On the sparse acoustic strum of ‘Dumb And Poetic’, she eviscerates someone who tries “to come off like you’re soft and well-spoken / Jack off to lyrics by Leonard Cohen”. Sometimes, the star switches things up and puts herself in the self-deprecating crosshairs, as on the countrified ‘Slim Pickins’. “This boy doesn’t even know the difference between there, their and they are / Yet he’s naked in my room,” she sighs.
Musically, Carpenter mostly finds that niche she’s been searching for, getting comfortable in a country-pop groove on the likes of ‘Coincidence’ and ‘Please Please Please’, or nailing frothy pop bops like ‘Taste’ and ‘Juno’. Her individuality occasionally feels a little diluted, the likes of ‘Good Graces’ and ‘Bed Chem’ moulded in Ariana Grande’s image. For the most part, though, who Sabrina Carpenter is has never been clearer – and her long-awaited, hard-earned climb to pop’s summit should continue with ease.

Grandeur sits at the heart of ‘This Music May Contain Hope’, RAYE’s second album, and the result feels nothing short of breathtaking. On this record, the singer born Rachel Keen explores a wide spectrum of sounds across its 73 minute length, moving from emotional ballads to lively funk moments and the jazz pop style she has become closely associated with. It can feel overwhelming at first, yet the magic that comes from RAYE fully committing to her vision makes the experience rewarding from start to finish.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’, a conceptual project about pushing through insecurity and heartbreak, unfolds like a lavish stage production. RAYE takes on the dual role of main character and guiding voice throughout the story. “Allow me to set the scene. Our story begins at 2:27am on a rainy night in Paris. Cue the thunder,” she says during the opening track ‘Girl Under The Grey Cloud’, which arrives with sweeping orchestral strings. Spoken passages appear across the album, helping shape the narrative and giving the project a sense of direction, almost like hearing the official recording of a Broadway show.
With this framework in place, the South London artist allows herself to fully explore the album’s diverse musical palette, and most of the time it works in her favor. Sometimes she fully embraces the theatrical side of the concept, especially during the closing section of the smooth R&B track ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare’. Other moments are delivered more straightforwardly, such as the emotional slow building ballad ‘I Know You’re Hurting’. She also revisits her earlier dance influences with the impressive house track ‘Life Boat’.
Across the entire album, two things stand out clearly. RAYE’s flexible vocals sound better than ever, and her songwriting feels sharper than it has before. Take the playful highlight ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today’, a swing jazz inspired track reminiscent of Ella Fitzgerald, where she admits “I’m okay to be lonely / If I’m lonely and skinny / I have such silly self-loathing thoughts, it seems”. Then there is the emotional storytelling in ‘Nightingale Lane’: “It was right there, early June / Next to Old Park Avenue / Standing in the rain, I watched him walk away”.
Despite all the vulnerability and emotional struggles explored throughout the record, RAYE ultimately reaches a place of optimism, staying true to the album’s title. She gathers her close friends on ‘Click Clack Symphony’ with support from Hans Zimmer, finds closure with guidance from Al Green on the smooth seventies soul inspired ‘Goodbye Henry’, and reaches toward something greater alongside her sisters Amma and Absolutely on the uplifting ‘Joy’ as she searches to be “free of all the pain and every fear”. After the stormy opening imagery of that “rainy night” and “thunder”, RAYE eventually realizes that “the sun exists behind the clouds”, as she shares on ‘Happier Times Ahead’.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ shows RAYE performing at her absolute peak. The album feels huge in scale and emotionally powerful, yet it remains rooted in honest experiences and real feelings. Yes, it asks a lot from the listener, but that is also what makes it so special. Every dramatic moment and musical shift feels like RAYE claiming her independence and finally creating music entirely on her own terms.
