The Redemption of Karen Carpenter: Kick-Ass Drummer.

When I was young, probably in elementary school, I read a joke in Reader's Digest, in one of those "Laughter, The Best Medicine" sections. The joke went like this:

Some musician dies, and awakens to find himself in a club where a jam session is about to take place. The people there tell him he's in hell, and he asks who's jamming, only to find that all these legends are jamming there together, Hendrix on guitar, John Lennon singing, etc. So he's all incredulous and says there's no way this is hell; I must be in heaven! And the punchline is, that at exactly that moment, Karen Carpenter walks out and gets behind the drum kit.

I didn't really find it that funny, not really knowing who most of the people really were; the only lesson forever imprinted on my impressionable young mind was that Karen Carpenter was a horrible drummer, bad enough to make Heaven into Hell. As an enormous, almost obsessive fan of good, smart, tasteful, musical drumming (I can call Mastodon one of my favorite bands largely on the strength of Brian Dailor alone), I guess that little piece of information stuck in my head, a damning account of an inexcusably tacky musician. So I was more than a little surprised to find a clip like this on Youtube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dJUnh6N8-U&feature=related

If you don't have time to mess around, go straight to the 8:50 mark for the real goods. Plus, half the time she's simultaneously singing in that flawless soft-rock voice. All apologies, Karen Carpenter. You have been forever vindicated in my mind and heart, as a truly kick-ass drummer.