A&M Studios.
âAs far as Iâm concerned,â Richard said, âitâs either going to be #1 or a monumental stiff. No in-between.â
5
YOU PUT US ON THE ROAD
â( T HEY L ONG to Be) Close to Youâ entered the Hot 100 at #56, the highest debut of the week ending June 20, 1970. As the record moved up the charts, making stops at #37, #14, #7, and #3, the Carpenters set out to form a permanent âin personâ band to travel with and support their live shows. Having recently been appointed principal tuba player with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, Wes Jacobs weighed two significant opportunities. He could play pop music with the Carpenters or continue pursuing his own dream of playing tuba in a major orchestra. â [Richard] called me, and he basically offered me a lot of money . . .,â Jacobs recalled, âbut I realized that I would play the same concert two hundred times a year while touring with the Carpenters instead of two hundred different concerts per year in a symphony. I chose the symphony.â
Karen and Richard returned to members of Spectrum in hopes of reassembling the original group to cover additional vocal harmonies. âWe canât sing six parts,â they explained. âWould you like to come back?â
âNo, thanks,â said Leslie Johnston, who was still singing lead for another group. âI knew that with the Carpenters Iâd just be a backup,â she explains. âSo they became famous and I didnât!â
Former Spectrum bassist Dan Woodhams did accept the invitation to join the group, as did guitarist Gary Sims following his return froma stint in the Army Reserve. High-spirited college friend Doug Strawn was recruited to play multiple reed instruments. He also sang and had a great musical ear after years of experience fine-tuning chords in various barbershop quartets like the Dapper Dans, who had appeared on
Your All-American College Show
in 1968. Bob Messenger, the introverted and eldest member of the group, was equally adroit on bass guitar, saxophone, and flute. The group assembled was one of multiple talents with a common thread of determination to please Karen and Richard. Each would later learn that was not easy to accomplish, but they remained steadfast in their efforts nonetheless.
John Bettis was managing a club called the Babylon in San Francisco when a patron gave him a copy of
Cashbox
showing âClose to Youâ at #3 with a bullet. He immediately returned to Los Angeles but did not wish to sing with the group. Instead he signed on as a writer with Almo Publishing for a salary of seventy-five dollars a week. For years he would spend six days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, on the A&M lot. He likened it to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in its heyday, only smaller.
The new group spent months rehearsing daily on the A&M sound-stage, where they tweaked every nuance and worked to accomplish the optimal mix between microphones and instruments. For the singers, pure, tall, and unified vowel sounds and shapes were of prime importance for the desired blend. Each chord was isolated and tuned. Passages were rehearsed a cappella with each singer trying a different vocal part until the finest balance was achieved. For the earliest gigs, most of which were one-nighters, rented cars and a Ryder truck were the standard means of transportation. Karen, Richard, and the guys in the band would unload, set up, perform, tear down, and reload for each appearance. Family friend Evelyn Wallace was asked to set up a bookkeeping system to keep track of the groupâs earnings and expenses and began working from the Carpentersâ home in order to set up forms, pay bills, and distribute any remaining money between Karen, Richard, and the band.
The Carpenters continued as the opening act in a series of shows for Burt Bacharach, including a run at Westbury Music Fair in New York and a week-long stay at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles. â The
âAs far as Iâm concerned,â Richard said, âitâs either going to be #1 or a monumental stiff. No in-between.â
5
YOU PUT US ON THE ROAD
â( T HEY L ONG to Be) Close to Youâ entered the Hot 100 at #56, the highest debut of the week ending June 20, 1970. As the record moved up the charts, making stops at #37, #14, #7, and #3, the Carpenters set out to form a permanent âin personâ band to travel with and support their live shows. Having recently been appointed principal tuba player with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, Wes Jacobs weighed two significant opportunities. He could play pop music with the Carpenters or continue pursuing his own dream of playing tuba in a major orchestra. â [Richard] called me, and he basically offered me a lot of money . . .,â Jacobs recalled, âbut I realized that I would play the same concert two hundred times a year while touring with the Carpenters instead of two hundred different concerts per year in a symphony. I chose the symphony.â
Karen and Richard returned to members of Spectrum in hopes of reassembling the original group to cover additional vocal harmonies. âWe canât sing six parts,â they explained. âWould you like to come back?â
âNo, thanks,â said Leslie Johnston, who was still singing lead for another group. âI knew that with the Carpenters Iâd just be a backup,â she explains. âSo they became famous and I didnât!â
Former Spectrum bassist Dan Woodhams did accept the invitation to join the group, as did guitarist Gary Sims following his return froma stint in the Army Reserve. High-spirited college friend Doug Strawn was recruited to play multiple reed instruments. He also sang and had a great musical ear after years of experience fine-tuning chords in various barbershop quartets like the Dapper Dans, who had appeared on
Your All-American College Show
in 1968. Bob Messenger, the introverted and eldest member of the group, was equally adroit on bass guitar, saxophone, and flute. The group assembled was one of multiple talents with a common thread of determination to please Karen and Richard. Each would later learn that was not easy to accomplish, but they remained steadfast in their efforts nonetheless.
John Bettis was managing a club called the Babylon in San Francisco when a patron gave him a copy of
Cashbox
showing âClose to Youâ at #3 with a bullet. He immediately returned to Los Angeles but did not wish to sing with the group. Instead he signed on as a writer with Almo Publishing for a salary of seventy-five dollars a week. For years he would spend six days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, on the A&M lot. He likened it to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in its heyday, only smaller.
The new group spent months rehearsing daily on the A&M sound-stage, where they tweaked every nuance and worked to accomplish the optimal mix between microphones and instruments. For the singers, pure, tall, and unified vowel sounds and shapes were of prime importance for the desired blend. Each chord was isolated and tuned. Passages were rehearsed a cappella with each singer trying a different vocal part until the finest balance was achieved. For the earliest gigs, most of which were one-nighters, rented cars and a Ryder truck were the standard means of transportation. Karen, Richard, and the guys in the band would unload, set up, perform, tear down, and reload for each appearance. Family friend Evelyn Wallace was asked to set up a bookkeeping system to keep track of the groupâs earnings and expenses and began working from the Carpentersâ home in order to set up forms, pay bills, and distribute any remaining money between Karen, Richard, and the band.
The Carpenters continued as the opening act in a series of shows for Burt Bacharach, including a run at Westbury Music Fair in New York and a week-long stay at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles. â The
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