by Shaina Joy Machlus Illustration by Amber Valentine
W
hat Karen is most famous for is a mix of music and devastation. She was the singer of the popular ‘70s sibling duo, the Carpenters, along with her brother Richard. They were some of the best-selling recording artists of all time. The Carpenters played soft-pop featuring Karen’s distinct vocals that capitalized on the then popular family act set-up. Their two massive hits, “We’ve Only Just Begun ” and “(They Long to Be) Close to You” won three Grammys. Perhaps every bit as impactful as Karen’s contributions to the Carpenters was her struggle with an eating disorder. Karen very publicly battled anorexia nervosa. At one point, her 5-foot-4 frame bore a mere 83 pounds. More privately,
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TOM TOM MAGAZINE
It’s breathtaking to watch the grainy 1970s videos of Karen Carpenter playing the drums. I find myself literally unable to take a breath. There was so much force erupting from such a tiny body and total control, precision, as well as focus in her immensely complicated beats. There is no arguing that Karen Carpenter was a drummer—a very skilled, highly trained drummer—but what made these videos so popular has less to do with her actual expertise and more with novelty, the surprise that Karen Carpenter carried this “secret” intelligence of drumming. And the questions naturally arise: Why wasn’t Karen behind the drums all the time? How could such a talented drummer ever be known for anything else? she battled serious depression. Her despondency came to a head during a divorce from her husband, Thomas James Burris, after her many attempts to become pregnant, only to discover he had been lying about a vasectomy. In 1983, at only 32, Karen died of heart complications, her body yielding to the years of self-starvation, abuse of laxatives, and thyroid medication for weight loss. There is no denying this woman’s struggle. Like many gifted musicians, music is both an outlet and avenue for inner turmoil. Is it possible to hear where Karen lost herself? In those videos, more than any of her singing, there is a person trying to show the world their passion and ability. Her movements seem to scream: “I’m a drummer! Look, I can drum!”
I came across a startling JazzWax interview on May 7, 2012, with Hal Blaine, the infamous drummer and session musician who worked with everyone, including Elvis Presley, the Beach Boys, the Ronettes, Simon and Garfunkel, and the Carpenters. He revealed that Karen was forced against her own will and the better judgement of her family to give up drumming. Throughout the course of the interview, Blaine casually boats, at length, about being responsible for Karen putting down her drumsticks and becoming a singer. “The poor thing [was] playing her buns off on the drums,” he said of the late musician. I can’t imagine Blaine used the same language to describe Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys or Jeff Porcaro of Steely Dan, his other clients.