Information found on this page has been furnished by Julie Winton.
Let's get this out of the way right now: I love the Carpenters.
I love them with no irony, no angst, no hipster-style tribute-album bandwagoning.
I love them despite their bad hair, polyester clothes, clunky stage presence and tragic coda.
I love their music, though I admit Top of the World sometimes makes my teeth hurt.
I love the fact that Karen Carpenter played the drums. When asked why once, she said, "Why not?"
Why not, indeed?
Karen inspired me to play drums and sing. I'm great at neither, but I took her at her word when she sang, "Don't worry if it's not good enough."
Too bad she couldn't be as forgiving with herself.
Karen could've profited from a little bit of punk spirit, particularly when she left the drums for center stage. "You don't like me? You think I'm chunky? Hey, smarty, check in with me the next time you can sing a song note-perfect, soul-perfect and leave crowds in tears 250 times a year."
But she didn't take it that way. Criticism burned in her, and friends blame it for her eating disorder.
I don't like to dwell on how Karen died, though it's never far from my mind when I listen to her music. And I couldn't help thinking about it in January when I made a pilgrimage to her grave while in the Los Angeles area on business.
I'm often struck by her youth: she was just 16 when her first single, Looking for Love came out, and 20 when Close to You hit No. 1 in 1970.
And I'm amazed at how good she sounded, even when she was down to 89 pounds on her 5-foot-4-inch frame (she later got as low as 77 pounds). She had gained weight before her 1983 death at the age of 32, and friends were optimistic about her future. But as Richard said in a recent VH1 documentary, one of three new TV biographies of the duo, she just didn't look right.
When our two-hour talk turned to Karen, as it had to, Richard was stoic.
"She was very down to earth, full of effervescence, full of love for people, love for her craft," he said. "Even in the darker days with her eating disorder, she was still cheerful."
Many of her friends thought otherwise, however. And Richard even seems to contradict himself when he talks about her disposition. "Rainy days and Mondays didn't get her down," he insisted. "She just had an inborn talent to go into that mode, to understand that. - She would be your typical - except for her talent - 20-year-old girl next door."
But he also said she "sounded so beyond her years." To me, that's more than talent.
Of the recent specials, VH1's is the best because it lets Karen speak for herself via rare TV and radio interviews. Fans can find performances on video, but to hear her talk is a treat. Some of her words:
"He had always wanted to be where he is, always had ideas," she said of Richard in February of 1972. "I didn't know I could do anything until 16."
That's when she started drumming.
"I got into band to get out of gym," she said in an undated interview. "Now when I got there I was absolutely fascinated with drums. I said, let me see if I can play. I know I can play. I went over, picked up a pair of sticks - it was the most natural feeling thing I'd ever done."
Singing, on the other hand, "just happened" later, she said. She also learned to play some bass.
Richard said she was a good drummer from the start.
"She played on a number of our hits," he said. "But she just couldn't wham into those tom-toms the way a studio drummer could. ... It had nothing to do with her illness."
He convinced Karen to step out from behind the drums. It wasn't easy, but he promised her the chance to play percussion in special circumstances.
It was probably like someone asking him not to play the piano, he acknowledged, but he didn't follow me when I tried to explore the notion of the drums as Karen's security blanket. He said he didn't know why someone would seek security by doing something so hard. It was one of the few awkward moments in our talk. For a stoic guy, he handled my gushiness well, even when I felt compelled to tell him how moved I was by visiting Karen's grave in Cypress, Calif.
I didn't tell him that I crawled under that chain meant to keep me 20 feet from the large, marble crypt. I couldn't resist. I didn't have flowers to add to the many already there, but I did leave Karen a thank-you note.
I love the Carpenters. I'm not afraid to like stuff other people consider lightweight, or lame (as my affection for comic books, action figures, the first few seasons of "Baywatch," Pontiac Fieros and Ms. Pac Man proves, but those are other columns).
But I figure I owe it to myself, and to the woman Karen could have been, to like what I like, and live how I live and not worry (too much) about what other people think.
I'm still working on that.
Return to Articles FAQ
Last changed: Mon Jan 17 23:15:59 EST 2005