Lead Sister: The Story of Karen Carpenter

—Cathy Ritchie

Lead Sister: The Story of Karen Carpenter
by Lucy O’Brien (Rowman & Littlefield, 2023)

February 4, 1983. As I returned home from work, my mother’s first words to me were, “You know who Karen Carpenter is, right?” As I nodded vigorously, her next sentence was: “She died today.” Along with much of America and the world that night, I reeled with shock and loss.

At the age of 32, one of the greatest singing voices in musical history was gone, as Karen Carpenter succumbed to the effects of anorexia nervosa, from which she had suffered for nearly 10 years. Since her death, discussions about her life and struggles have abounded. The latest remembrance is Lucy O’Brien’s biography Lead Sister.

Karen was born in New Haven in 1950 and moved with her parents and older brother Richard to Downey, California in 1963. Richard quickly focused on learning piano, and when Karen discovered drumming, it became her major passion; she would develop into an exceptional player. But she also possessed a three-octave singing voice. When Karen was 17, her voice was described as a “remarkable instrument.”

Early on, the brother-sister duo performed together in groups of various configurations, with Richard as keyboardist and orchestrator/producer, and Karen secure behind her drum set. In 1969, A&M Records (headed by Herb Alpert) signed them to a recording contract, with Karen both singing and drumming from the duo’s back seat. On their debut album, she sang the lead on nearly every cut, and their version of the Beatles’ “Ticket to Ride” became their first single on Billboard’s Top 100.

In 1970, their second disc, Close To You, became their career-changer, as it included both the title cut and “We’ve Only Just Begun.” “Carpenters” (as they now named themselves) were soon occupying the Billboard listing’s top two slots.

As their fame and popularity began its rocket-like ascent, Karen faced a major professional change. Though she always considered herself “a drummer who sang,” the duo’s management (anticipating future personal appearances) urged her to leave the drumming to others. Karen was asked to step up front and center, taking her place as lead singer—since “she was the one the people watched.”

In retrospect, some entertainment scholars posit this could have been the thin end of the wedge leading to Karen’s anorexia. Their parents had always considered Richard to be “the” gifted musician in the family, and moving away from the safe space of her drumming would exacerbate Karen’s feelings of insecurity and self-doubt. She became a chronic dieter, acutely conscious of her overall weight and appearance.

By the mid-1970s both Karen and Richard were experiencing personal health challenges. Richard was addicted to Quaaludes, and Karen, obsessively dieting, began to appear overly gaunt in live performance—though her voice, by all accounts, was largely unaffected by her health issues. (Because her singing remained strong, Richard reportedly downplayed his sister’s health situation for years.) Their hit albums included show/movie songs, country-western tunes, and “power” ballads, many composed by Richard and his writing partner John Bettis, and backed by Richard’s unique sound engineering and orchestration.

As Karen’s condition became more readily apparent, friends and colleagues (including Olivia Newton-John, Dionne Warwick and Petula Clark) urged her to seek medical intervention. But as anorexia was still a relatively unfamiliar disease at the time, and since Karen herself maintained a jovial attitude about her physical appearance, outsiders’ concerns largely fell on deaf ears. At one point in the mid-70s, Karen allegedly weighed 71 pounds.

In 1979, with Richard on break from the band and in rehab, Karen boldly recorded her first solo album, produced by Phil Ramone. The music was edgier, including disco numbers and other genres new to the “Carpenters” brand—and utilizing Karen’s upper singing register. The end result was ultimately shelved by Herb Alpert, though portions of it were remixed and released after her death. This experience was a blow for Karen, deepening the other struggles in her life at the time.

Her personal life brought little joy. Karen dated extensively during her 20s, and several of the relationships appeared serious. In 1980s after a three-month courtship, she married a real-estate developer. Days before the wedding, she learned her fiance had had a vasectomy; as she had hoped for children, this news was devastating. When it became obvious that the man had wed Karen for her fame and finances, one friend commented that the marriage “was the worst possible thing that could happen to her.” Karen filed for divorce in 1982.

Finally forced to undergo therapy and hospital treatment, Karen did gain back some of her lost weight by early 1983. But years of bodily abuse had a cumulative effect that couldn’t be erased; she died of cardiac arrest at her parents’ home in Downey. It was later revealed that Karen had also abused laxatives and thyroid medication in order to lose weight.

Since Karen’s death, her voice has been hailed by Elton John as “one of the greatest in our lifetime.” Her family has established a foundation in her name to raise money for treatment and cure of anorexia nervosa. Made-for-TV biopics of her life have appeared, along with multiple books detailing both her life and the duo’s contribution to popular music history. As O’Brien comments: “Karen’s untimely death has dominated her story but what also endures is the transformative power of her voice, her expertise as a drummer, and who she was as a person.”

O’Brien’s biography is thorough, raising several issues surrounding Karen’s 1970s career. For example: could the generally less-than-prominent status of women singers in American culture at that time have further harmed Karen’s already fragile self-esteem and confidence in her talent? This author offers a thoughtful view of the musical tragedy that played itself out before America’s eyes.

Examples of Karen Carpenter’s remarkable contralto voice are plentiful on YouTube and elsewhere. For me, perhaps the simplest and finest example of her vocal richness continues to be “Sometimes” by Henry and Felice Mancini, with Richard at the piano, from Carpenters, aka, the “Tan Album.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9IHFT4u6QFg

Lucy O’Brien calls the life of Karen Carpenter “one of pop music’s saddest stories.”

Reading this book reminded me of the Sondheim song title juxtaposition “Sorry/Grateful.” Karen: while I’m so sorry we lost you, we’re so grateful you were here.