Why Crying in the Rain Still Hits So Hard Decades Later

Why Crying in the Rain Still Hits So Hard Decades Later

Music has this weird way of capturing things we can’t say out loud. It’s been sixty years since Howard Greenfield and Carole King sat down to write a song about masking grief, and yet, the sentiment remains painfully relatable. Crying in the Rain isn't just a pop standard; it is a psychological profile of the "stiff upper lip" mentality set to a melody.

Ever felt like you had to hide your breakdown? Of course. We all have. That’s the magic of this track.

Originally made famous by The Everly Brothers in 1962, the song peaked at number 6 on the Billboard Hot 100. It wasn't their biggest hit—that honor usually goes to "Cathy’s Clown"—but it has arguably become one of their most enduring contributions to the American songbook. It captures a specific type of masculine vulnerability that was rarely seen in the early sixties. Don and Phil Everly, with those crystalline harmonies, made sadness feel sophisticated.

The Brilliance of the Greenfield-King Collaboration

Most people don't realize that "Crying in the Rain" was a bit of a strategic "meeting of the minds" in the Brill Building era. Don Kirshner, the legendary music publisher, essentially forced two of his best songwriting teams to collaborate. Howard Greenfield usually worked with Neil Sedaka. Carole King worked with Gerry Goffin.

By pairing Greenfield’s lyrics with King’s composition, Kirshner was trying to create a "super-hit." It worked.

Greenfield’s lyrics are deceptively simple. He uses the weather as a literal shield. The narrator isn't just sad; he's tactical. He’s waiting for a storm so his tears won't be "complained about." It's a heavy concept for a two-minute pop song. King’s melody supports this by staying relatively restrained until the bridge, mirroring the way someone tries to keep their composure before finally cracking.

Honestly, the songwriting is a masterclass in economy. Not a single word is wasted.

When A-ha Reimagined the Rain

Fast forward to 1990. The synth-pop era was winding down, and a Norwegian band known mostly for high notes and comic-book music videos decided to strip things back. A-ha’s cover of "Crying in the Rain" for their East of the Sun, West of the Moon album is, in many ways, the definitive version for Gen X.

Morten Harket’s voice is vastly different from the Everly Brothers. While the original felt like a communal, fraternal mourning, Harket’s version is isolated. Cold. It sounds like someone standing alone on a pier in Oslo.

  • The Everly version: 1962, warm, country-tinged, harmony-heavy.
  • The A-ha version: 1990, cinematic, moody, soaring vocals.
  • The Nick Lowe/Dave Edmunds version: A 1980s pub-rock take that feels more grounded and rugged.

Critics at the time were split on A-ha's version. Some felt it was too melodramatic. Others realized that the song’s DNA is inherently melodramatic. If you aren't leaning into the "rain as a teardrop" metaphor, why are you even singing it?

The Psychology of the Hidden Sob

Why does this specific imagery work so well? There is a real psychological phenomenon behind the lyrics. It’s called "emotional masking."

In 1962, men weren't exactly encouraged to talk about their feelings. The song provided a loophole. It gave listeners permission to acknowledge their pain, provided they kept it under cover. Even today, in a world that supposedly values "opening up," many people still prefer the privacy of a rainy day or a steaming shower to let go.

It’s about dignity.

The narrator says, "I'll never let you see the way my broken heart is hurting me." That’s pride. It’s the refusal to give an ex-partner the satisfaction of seeing the damage they caused. It’s a bit petty, kinda tragic, and very human.

Behind the Scenes of the Recording

The Everly Brothers were actually going through significant internal turmoil when they recorded this. Their relationship was famously volatile. Maybe that’s why the harmonies sound so tense and perfect—they were communicating through the music because they weren't doing much talking off-stage.

The session musicians involved were the best in the business. You can hear the Nashville influence in the steady, rhythmic guitar work. It doesn't distract. It stays in the pocket.

Interestingly, Carole King herself eventually recorded it. Her version has that "Tapestry" era warmth—less about the performance and more about the song’s bones. When the creator sings their own work, you notice different things. You notice the way the chord changes reflect the "raindrops falling from the sky."

Why It Won't Go Away

You’ve probably heard this song in a dozen different places. It’s been covered by everyone from Tammy Wynette to Art Garfunkel. Why? Because it’s "weather-proof" songwriting.

Some songs are tied to their era. You can’t listen to certain 80s tracks without thinking of hairspray and neon. But "Crying in the Rain" is timeless because it’s based on a universal natural element. As long as it rains, people will find a way to hide their sadness in it.

The technical structure also helps. It follows a classic AABA form, which is incredibly satisfying to the human ear. It builds anticipation. We know the "rain" is coming, and when the chorus hits, it feels like a release.

Breaking Down the Lyrics: A Closer Look

"If I wait for stormy weather to hide these tears I hope you’ll never see."

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Think about that line for a second. It suggests a level of planning. This isn't a spontaneous outburst of emotion. It’s a curated display of grief.

The narrator is actively praying for "clouds to hide the sun." It’s a total reversal of the usual pop song tropes where everyone wants sunshine. Here, the sun is the enemy because it provides too much clarity. It exposes the truth.

  1. The Request for Storms: A plea for a change in environment to suit an internal state.
  2. The Vow of Silence: "I’ll never let you see."
  3. The Conclusion of the Rain: What happens when the storm ends? The narrator claims they’ll "walk alone."

Actionable Takeaways for Music Fans

If you’re a fan of this track, or if you’re just discovering it, there are a few things you should do to really appreciate the craft:

  • Listen to the Mono Mix: If you can find the original 1962 mono pressing of the Everly Brothers version, do it. The vocal blend is much tighter than the later stereo remasters.
  • Compare the "Feel": Play the Everly Brothers version immediately followed by A-ha. Notice how the tempo change in the 1990 version shifts the song from "sad pop" to "gothic ballad."
  • Check the Credits: Look up other Greenfield/King collaborations. They didn't do many, but the few they produced are fascinating examples of the Brill Building sound.
  • Watch the Live Performances: Seek out the Everly Brothers' 1983 reunion concert at the Royal Albert Hall. Their performance of this song, decades after the original recording, adds a layer of age and weariness that makes the lyrics even more poignant.

The song serves as a reminder that vulnerability doesn't always have to be loud. Sometimes, the most powerful emotions are the ones we try hardest to hide. Whether you're a fan of 60s rock and roll or 90s pop, this track remains a benchmark for how to write about heartbreak without losing your cool.