Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Listening Too Long to One Song: The Rain - "Dry the Rain"

I love the rain. Perhaps the only thing I love more than the rain itself is waking up to it's undeniably comforting sound on the plastic roof that covers the modest porch that extends from our cozy apartment. If this happens on a day where I don't have to leave the house immediately after I wake up - a day where I can sit on my couch in my pajamas drinking coffee while reading or writing - then I will be about as happy as it is possible for me to ever be. It would make sense to say that my obsession with rain has developed through the course of ten years of living in Los Angeles. To be honest though, I've always been obsessed with the rain. As I noted in my recent post about the School's Let it Slip EP (certainly one of my favorite releases of the year) being outside in the rain has the ability to heighten any experience. Perhaps because the feeling of rain on your skin is so immediate, of course you can feel the sun, but not quite in the same way. Even if you are actively attempting to find shelter from heavy rainfall, chances are that you are more engaged in the process of running for shelter than you will be in most other moments of your life. To me, it's unbelievably exciting. By the same turn, if you find yourself inside while the heavy rainfall is lurking outside isn't it safe to say that you will never feel more safe, warm, or dry?

Given my sheer adoration for rain as weather, I find it extraordinarily odd that my favorite song of the moment is entitled, "Dry the Rain." The still relatively new indiepopedia resource is truly extraordinary in helping to speed along my process of discovering bands that I was likely just on the verge of discovering anyway. While looking at the band page on the site one day, I noticed that there was a band called the Rain, and of course I checked it out given my obsession with the weather that the band takes it's name from. Based on the lovingly crafted biography that was featured, and based on the strength of the "Watercress Girl" single included on the site's mp3 player, I immediately began to search for their records online. All I could find was a copy of the Medium Cool sampler, Edge of the Road, and since copies of this record are still relatively easy to find, and affordable, I purchased it immediately. Since that time I keep finding myself drawn back to that particular song, "Dry the Rain," the last song of side two of the record. It is also just around two minutes of sharply written, guitar pop perfection. You know, it's one of those songs with precisely the sort of rapid intro that jangles assuredly into life leaving you without any doubt that you are in for something exciting. The kind of song with confident, aesthetically pleasing vocals that are effective whether you are following the song's story or not though you will likely be far too busy dancing to pay close attention to the lyrics. Yet by the same token, the chorus is easy to memorize and sing along to, given that it consists only of the phrase dry the rain sung repeatedly with backing vocals echoing various aspects of the phrase. I have a genuine fondness for such immediate simplicity when it comes to the chorus of a pop song. Especially when it's executed with as much exuberance as it is here.

Unfortunately I can't find "Dry the Rain" anywhere online, but do be sure to visit the Clark Springs Myspace page. Clark Springs is the band that the Rain evolved into, and the page features songs from both Clark Springs, and the Rain. "Hi There 1968" being amongst the most notable. It's their fan-boy tribute to the Byrds, and it seems easily poised to be the next song that I am completely obsessed with.

Incidentally, as I am clearly very late in my discovery the sheer beauty of the Rain (the band that is) I have not surprisingly been unable to track down a copy of their one full length album To the Citadel. Is there anyone out there who might be able to help me out with this?


Dennis said...

If you love the rain so much, maybe we should trade places for a while. You come live in Amsterdam, I move to LA. For a year? Ok, deal.

Sorry, can't help you with the album!

Marion said...


I suppose that would require us to switch jobs as well? So you'll have to teach me how to do whatever it is you do in the office with the less than appealing open floor plan, and you will in turn get to serve omlettes to some of the pickiest people you will ever encounter :)