Here Comes the Rain Again

The synthesizer melody here mimics rainfall so effectively it becomes weather. This is Eurythmics at their most atmospheric, Lennox's voice reaching into something genuinely vulnerable beneath the usual armor, the lyric dwelling in the space between wanting to be saved and knowing you won't be. The arrangement is gradual and patient, building not to triumph but to a kind of resigned acceptance of longing as a permanent condition. There's something almost classical in its structure — verse, development, a conclusion that resolves nothing. It soundtracks winter mornings, particularly the light through grey windows, the particular quality of cold that gets inside rather than sitting on the surface. Melancholy as a form of grace.