Why Here Comes the Rain Again by Eurythmics Still Feels Like the Future

Why Here Comes the Rain Again by Eurythmics Still Feels Like the Future

You know that feeling when a song starts and the atmosphere in the room just... shifts? That’s exactly what happens within the first five seconds of Here Comes the Rain Again by Eurythmics. It’s not just the synthesizer. It's that icy, detached, yet deeply soulful string arrangement that makes you feel like you’re standing on a deserted pier in the middle of a November gale. Honestly, most 80s synth-pop feels dated the second you put it on a modern speaker system. The drums sound like cardboard boxes, and the presets are cheesy. But this track? It feels like it was recorded next week.

Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart weren't just making a pop song when they sat down at the Mayfair Hotel in London to write this. They were capturing a specific kind of British melancholy. It was a gray day. Dave was playing some chords on a Casio keyboard, Annie was looking out the window at the overcast sky, and she just said the line. "Here comes the rain again." It wasn’t a poetic calculation. It was a literal observation that turned into one of the most haunting melodies in music history.

The Weird Genius Behind the Sound

Most people think of the Eurythmics as a "synth" band. That’s a massive oversimplification. If you listen closely to Here Comes the Rain Again, you’re hearing a bizarre, high-wire act between high-tech digital sequencing and old-school orchestral prestige. Dave Stewart didn't want a "fake" string sound. He wanted the real thing, but he wanted it to sound unnatural.

He brought in Michael Kamen. If that name rings a bell, it’s because he’s the guy who did the scores for Die Hard and Lethal Weapon. Kamen conducted a 30-piece orchestra at Church Studios, but here’s the kicker: they weren't just playing a standard backing track. Stewart and Kamen pushed for a staccato, rhythmic urgency that mimicked the heartbeat of the synthesizer. It created this tension where the machines and the humans were essentially fighting for space. It’s why the song feels so restless. It’s never quite settled.

Annie’s vocals are another story entirely. Most singers in 1983 were trying to belt like Pat Benatar or go full "new wave" quirky. Annie went the other way. She went cold. But it’s a "warm" cold, if that makes sense? Her delivery is technically perfect—her R&B influences are all over the phrasing—but she sings it with a restraint that makes the lyrics about longing and emotional vulnerability feel almost dangerous.

Breaking Down the Lyrics: It’s Not About the Weather

Obviously, the rain is a metaphor. It’s about that cyclical nature of a relationship that’s beautiful but fundamentally "un-sunny." When she asks, "Talk to me like lovers do," it isn't a romantic request. It sounds like a demand for some kind of reality in a world that feels increasingly artificial.

  • "Falling on my head like a memory"
  • "Falling on my head like a new emotion"

That transition is key. Memories are heavy and old. New emotions are terrifying. The song straddles that line perfectly. It’s about the anticipation of a storm—emotional or otherwise—and the weirdly calm resignation that comes when it finally hits.

The Music Video That Defined an Aesthetic

You can't talk about Here Comes the Rain Again without mentioning the video. This was the peak MTV era. Directing was handled by Dave Stewart himself, and they filmed it in the Orkney Islands. It’s bleak. It’s stunning. You have Annie Lennox wandering around derelict stone cottages and windswept cliffs with that iconic orange hair.

There’s a specific shot where she’s holding a lantern. It looks like a painting. It wasn't just a promo; it was a mood board for the entire decade’s "melancholy-chic" vibe. They used a lot of overlay techniques—ghostly images of Annie’s face superimposed over the landscape. It reinforced the idea that the singer wasn't just in the environment, she was the environment. If you ever wondered why every indie artist in the 2010s tried to look "sad in nature," you can trace a direct line back to this video.

Why the Production Still Holds Up

Let’s get technical for a second, but not in a boring way. The song was recorded on a 24-track tape machine, which was standard, but the way they used the Sequential Circuits Prophet-5 and the Roland SH-101 was revolutionary. They weren't just using presets. They were manipulating the ADSR envelopes to make the synths breathe.

Then you have the "swishing" sound. It’s subtle, but there’s a white noise sweep that happens throughout the track that mimics the sound of wind and actual rain. It’s an immersive 3D soundscape before "immersive audio" was even a marketing term. When you listen on high-quality headphones today, you can hear the layers of the Fairlight CMI—the world's first real sampler—blending with the acoustic violins. It’s a masterclass in hybrid production.

The Chart Success and Legacy

It hit the Top 10 in the US and the UK, which was a big deal because it followed "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)." Usually, a band has one massive hit and then peters out with a weak follow-up. Eurythmics did the opposite. They proved they had a range. They could do the "robotic" pop of "Sweet Dreams," and then they could do the sophisticated, orchestral soul of Here Comes the Rain Again.

Artists from Macy Gray to Hypnogaja have covered it. Why? Because the skeletal structure of the song is bulletproof. You can strip away the synths, play it on an acoustic guitar, and it still breaks your heart. That’s the hallmark of a great composition. It isn't dependent on the "cool" sounds of its era.

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Common Misconceptions

People often think this song is part of a "concept album" about sadness. Not really. The album Touch is actually quite diverse. But Here Comes the Rain Again was such a dominant lead single that it colored the way people perceived the whole record.

Another myth is that the strings are synthesized. Nope. As I mentioned earlier, those are real human beings with bows and rosin. The reason they sound so "perfect" is the meticulous editing and the way they were mixed to sit right inside the frequency range of the keyboards.

What You Should Do Next

If you want to actually "experience" this song rather than just hear it, don't just stream it on a crappy phone speaker. Do these three things:

  1. Find the 12-inch Version: There’s an extended version that lets the atmospheric intro breathe for much longer. It’s a trip.
  2. Watch the Remastered Video: Look for the 4K versions on official channels. The cinematography on the Orkney Islands is genuinely cinematic and deserves a big screen.
  3. Listen to the Instrumental: If you can find the backing track, listen to what Michael Kamen did with the cellos. It’s essentially a piece of classical music disguised as a pop song.

The song remains a staple of "Dark Wave" and "Synth-Pop" playlists for a reason. It bridges the gap between the coldness of technology and the warmth of the human heart. It’s a reminder that even when the rain is falling, there’s a certain beauty in the gloom if you have the right soundtrack for it.

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Next time it starts drizzling outside, put this on, look out the window, and let Annie Lennox tell you exactly how you're feeling. It works every single time.