There I was, after work, standing at the front door looking out at the pouring rain, feeling all misty-eyed and wistful. So as the soundtrack for my two-and-a-half block walk to the subway, I played a song called “Rainy Days and Mondays” by The Carpenters.
[Note to youth: The Carpenters were an incredibly popular brother and sister band in the 1970s, like Billie Eilish and Finneas.]
The song is indeed kind of a wistful one, written by the same man who composed “The Rainbow Connection” for Kermit the Frog. It’s a good song, filled with notes and whatnot, solid, well-crafted…
…no, I’m serious, it’s a great song. Excellent song. But this moment wasn’t really about the song. Facing the deep grey skies, at the end of a wearying day, I wanted to hear The Voice of Karen Carpenter.
The Voice Of Karen Carpenter elevated that short, stormy walk into one of those moments when you feel the camera following you for that first establishing shot of the movie, as you make your brave and hurried way through busy streets to join the thousands of commuters on their way back home. I could practically see the reflections of superimposed opening titles on the wet streets around me.
[Another note to youth: The Carpenters did not write much of their music, but their incredible vocal arrangements and vocal harmonies turned any song that they played into a totally unique piece of art. Richard played keyboards, and Karen played the drums so well that she is listed as one of the great rock drummers of all time. So I guess they’re kind of like the White Stripes too, except that Jack and Meg weren’t actually siblings, you know, they just… you know what - you can just look that up later. ]
The Voice of Karen Carpenter distinctly lacks drama and pretension. She just sings a song (out loud, and out strong).
The Voice of Karen Carpenter is artisanal: sound to tape without digital technology to warp the pitch or tone.
I find it very relaxing.
Interestingly enough, I am, at this time (for various reasons) gathering an extensive collection of everything I find relaxing and keeping it close at hand, just in case anything stressful, y’know, were to come up.
I downloaded The Carpenters “Greatest Hits” album on the way home.
In between tenor and mezzo-soprano women’s singing vocal ranges is contralto. It is oddly not next to “alto”.
Etta James. Annie Lennox. Patsy Cline. Julie London’s “Cry Me A River”. Judy Garland’s “Do It Again”. Billie Holiday’s… everything. Shirley Bassey. Lisa Gerrard. And, of course, Ms. Karen Carpenter.
After a little bit of research, I created a contralto playlist.
Music has always been soothing. My school days began with the clock radio in our 1970’s kitchen, playing top hits between traffic reports on the half hours. That brick of LPs of Disney soundtracks ordered from TV that I was given as a birthday present when I was five years old. The organ at church and soprano with the life-altering vibrato. All my boom boxes and Walkmen™ and iPods. The guitars and keyboards and that gold painted Bundy alto saxophone. But it is the human voice that has proven to be the most accessible, affordable, and portable musical device I’ve known.
Lately, I have found myself drifting away from music, as the more intense life gets, the harder it becomes to open up and relax. This is actually kind of a problem these days, because I adore writing music, yet can’t do it with my fingers all squeezed into fists and my teeth all clenched. I’m like one of those wind-up organ grinder chimp toys with the cymbals clashing together.
As a theme for the columns fourth year, I considered evolving it into a more journalistic chronicle of Current Times, but I don’t wanna.
I appreciate the broadcasts, segments, and monologues that help us all “process things” as our guts roil with the over ingestion of fiber-optic data, but with so much ready content about Now being produced, future historians will be able to accurately reconstruct every second of our days from absolutely every angle in dynamic detail. I think that’s covered, and do not feel there is a need to, as a friend recently described, put a hat on a hat.
Instead, I will focus on salves and antidotes, remedies and poultices, balms and potions. I will create a cookbook of soul healing recipes, a grimoire of balanced civility, a curated cabinet of simple joys forgotten or not yet discovered. I will stand against despair even when it’s impossible to ignore, appreciating something every week.
This week, it is The Voice of Karen Carpenter. If you already have her in your music collection, do me a favor and play a tune… and if you don’t, there are some links below.
Welcome to another year of a little humor column written in what might prove to be the least humorous time of American history. Ah. Timing.
Glad you’re here. See you next week.
and a drum one to justify the random White Stripes reference…
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