It was 1969. B. J. Thomas had a throat infection. Not just a tickle, but a full-blown, "I can't hit the high notes" laryngitis situation. He was raspy. He was tired. And yet, Burt Bacharach—the legendary, perfectionist composer—insisted he record the vocal for a quirky little tune written for a Western called Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Thomas did it anyway. He pushed through seven takes, his voice sounding grainier than usual. That scratchy, weary delivery became the definitive sound of B. J. Thomas Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head, a track that defied every rule of what a movie theme should be.
Most people today hear the song and think of sunshine, bicycle rides, and easy-listening radio. It’s a staple of grocery store aisles and wedding playlists. But back then? It was a weird choice. It didn't sound like a Western song. It didn't sound like a "cowboy" anthem. It sounded like a guy complaining about the rain while refusing to let it ruin his day.
Why Everyone Thought the Song Would Fail
When Hal David and Burt Bacharach wrote the lyrics and music, they weren't trying to create a chart-topping pop smash. They were trying to solve a narrative problem in a film. Director George Roy Hill wanted a bridge between the gritty action of the movie and the lighter, more whimsical relationship between Butch and Etta Place.
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The studio hated it.
Actually, "hated" might be an understatement. Robert Redford, the star of the movie, famously questioned why a pop song was playing during a sequence where he was riding a bike. It felt out of place. It felt modern in a way that felt "wrong" for a period piece. Critics at the time even called it anachronistic.
But Bacharach knew something they didn't. He knew that the juxtaposition of a cheerful, slightly off-kilter melody against the backdrop of an outlaw's life would stick in people's brains. He was right.
The Ray Stevens Near-Miss
Here is a bit of trivia that usually shocks people: B. J. Thomas wasn't even the first choice. Bacharach originally offered the song to Ray Stevens, the man famous for "The Streak" and "Everything is Beautiful."
Stevens turned it down.
He didn't think the song was a hit. He thought it was too lightweight. Imagine that for a second—turning down the song that would eventually win the Academy Award for Best Original Song. Because Stevens walked away, the door opened for B. J. Thomas, whose career was already doing well with hits like "Hooked on a Feeling," but this song would catapult him into a completely different stratosphere of fame.
The Technical Brilliance Behind the Simplicity
If you strip away the nostalgia, the construction of B. J. Thomas Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head is actually quite complex. Bacharach was notorious for odd time signatures and unexpected chord shifts.
The song starts with that iconic ukulele riff. It’s disarming. It feels small. Then the brass kicks in—that jaunty, slightly mocking trumpet.
Musically, the song doesn't follow a standard verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure that most 1960s pop followed. It meanders. It has a bridge that feels like a conversation. Bacharach’s use of space is what makes it work; the pauses between the lines allow the listener to breathe.
Then there's the lyrics. Hal David was a master of the "simple but profound."
“I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'”
It’s basically a philosophy for life wrapped in a catchy hook. It isn't about the rain stopping; it’s about the fact that the rain is inevitable, and your reaction to it is the only thing you can control. In 1970, when the song finally hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100, the United States was in the middle of a lot of "rain"—the Vietnam War, political upheaval, and a massive cultural shift. People needed to hear that they could be "free" even when things were falling on their heads.
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Recording with a Sore Throat
Back to that throat infection. Thomas’s manager was worried. Recording a major movie theme while sick is a nightmare for any vocalist. Thomas himself recalled that by the fifth or sixth take, his voice was barely holding on.
Interestingly, the version you hear in the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is different from the single version released on Scepter Records. The film version has Thomas sounding even raspier, with a slightly different arrangement to fit the timing of the bicycle scene.
When it came time to record the "single" version for radio, Thomas had recovered. He sounded smoother, more polished. But that raw, slightly strained quality from the initial sessions stayed in the DNA of the performance. It gave the song a "regular guy" vibe. It wasn't a soaring operatic ballad. It was a guy walking down the street, getting wet, and deciding he didn't care.
The Impact on B. J. Thomas’s Career
This song changed everything for him. Before this, he was a soul-leaning pop singer from Texas. After this, he was a global superstar.
The song stayed at the top of the charts for four weeks in early 1970. It became the first #1 hit of the 1970s. Think about the heavy hitters of that era—The Beatles were still around, Simon & Garfunkel were releasing "Bridge Over Troubled Water," and Led Zeppelin was rising. Yet, it was a song about raindrops and a bicycle that dominated the airwaves.
Thomas later moved into country music and gospel, but he could never escape the shadow of this one track. He didn't want to, either. He performed it for decades, always acknowledging that the song gave him a career that lasted over fifty years.
Cultural Legacy and Misconceptions
One of the biggest misconceptions is that the song is purely "happy."
It’s actually quite cynical if you look at the verses. The singer is complaining that the sun isn't doing its job. He's talking to the sun like a disgruntled boss. He’s "sleepin' on the job." The optimism of the song isn't "everything is great"; it’s "everything is kind of annoying, but I'm going to be okay anyway."
This nuance is why the song has been used so effectively in movies ever since. Think about Spider-Man 2 (2004). Director Sam Raimi used the song during a montage where Peter Parker decides to give up being a superhero. He’s walking through the park, eating a hot dog, and finally enjoying a "normal" life. The song works perfectly because it captures that sense of relief when you stop fighting the world and just exist in it.
The song has been covered by everyone from Dionne Warwick to Johnny Mathis, and even Snoop Dogg has sampled B. J. Thomas's work (though usually "Hooked on a Feeling"). None of the covers quite capture the specific blend of weariness and whimsy that Thomas brought to the original.
How to Appreciate the Track Today
To really "get" the song, you have to listen to the orchestration. Don't just focus on the lyrics.
Listen to the way the drums enter. They don't crash; they shuffle. Listen to the way the horns provide a counter-melody to the vocal line. It’s a masterclass in 1960s studio production.
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If you're a musician or a songwriter, there’s a lot to learn here about "hooks." A hook doesn't have to be a loud chorus. A hook can be a feeling or a specific tone of voice. Thomas’s delivery of the word "crying" in the line "It won't be long 'til happiness steps up to greet me" is a perfect example of how a singer can add emotional weight to a simple pop lyric.
Actionable Insights for Music Lovers and Creators
If you want to dive deeper into the world of B. J. Thomas and the Bacharach/David era, here are a few ways to expand your horizons:
- Compare the Versions: Listen to the film version of the song (available on the movie soundtrack) and the 45 RPM single version back-to-back. You’ll notice the difference in Thomas’s vocal texture due to his laryngitis.
- Explore the Bacharach Catalog: If you like the "vibe" of this song, check out Dionne Warwick's "Walk On By" or Dusty Springfield's "The Look of Love." You'll start to hear the "Bacharach thumbprint"—the sophisticated chords and unusual rhythms.
- Study the Lyrics of Hal David: David was often overshadowed by Bacharach's music, but his ability to write conversational, relatable lyrics was unparalleled. Read the lyrics to "Raindrops" as a poem; it's a lesson in brevity and "show, don't tell" storytelling.
- Watch the Movie: You can't fully appreciate the song without seeing the bicycle scene in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. It’s a piece of cinema history that proves how music can completely change the tone of a visual medium.
- Check out B. J. Thomas's Later Work: Don't stop at the hits. His 1970s country-pop transition, particularly the album Reunion, shows a singer who had incredible range and soul beyond the "Raindrops" persona.
The story of the song is a reminder that sometimes the best work comes out of imperfection. A sick singer, a skeptical movie studio, and a "weird" arrangement combined to create something that has outlived almost every other pop song from that year. It turns out that when the raindrops keep falling, the best thing to do is just keep singing until the sun comes back.