Let the Rain Fall

Based out of Baltimore, David Von Beahm is known for his post-punk throwbacks – and “Let the Rain Fall” will certainly take you back a few decades. While listening, I was pleasantly reminded of Jonathan Fire*Eater, an influential band from the early NYC post-punk revival, and that’s high praise.

The song makes excellent use of dynamics. From the intro, we’re introduced to a simple two-note piano theme that continues through much of the track, accompanied at first by little more than a wonderfully overdriven bass guitar. It doesn’t stay restrained for long. The arrangement quickly crescendos into the full band, complete with smashing crash cymbals. The vocals are purposefully retro, from the delivery itself to the vintage slapback echo they’re processed with. Even the lyrics have an old-fashioned directness to them: “And then the deluge comes, a surge of entombed memories.” The deluge brings emotion both to the story and, fittingly, to the music as we crash into the chorus.

“I cannot contain this anymore. The thunder claps.So I let the rain fall. Let the rain fall.”

The chorus is powerful, with well-placed pauses and some fun syncopation emphasizing each word as “let the rain fall” repeats. It’s a grandiose production that successfully carries the weight of the emotional breakdown the character is experiencing. There’s something quite theatrical about it, but it never crosses the line into feeling overdone.

I especially appreciated the classic rock guitar solo in the middle of the song. So rarely do we get an unbridled guitar solo like this anymore, and here it feels like more than a nostalgic indulgence. It gives the bridge a climax of its own, allowing the emotion that has been building throughout the song to finally spill over.

Overall, “Let the Rain Fall” feels like an homage to the musicians who came before without becoming an imitation of them. There are plenty of familiar ingredients, but Von Beahm assembles them with enough personality to make the song distinctly his own. It’s unabashedly retro, a little theatrical, and hard not to find charming.