B.J. Thomas: "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head"

January 3, 1970 (3 weeks)

I've never seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. You may be surprised to hear this but you really shouldn't be. While it feels as if I've seen a lot of movies in my life, I know full well that there are lot more that I've never seen — and, indeed, will never see. And don't take this as me steering clear of pictures that predate my time: there are many, many movies from the eighties, nineties and well into the millennium that I am similarly ignorant of.

For the purposes of this review it really doesn't matter. In spite of the comments on YouTube you'll sometimes come across ("such and such a movie — one I've almost certainly never heard of — brought me here"), pop songs ought to be able to transcend films. The fact that everyone from the director and producers of Butch Cassidy all the way down to co-star Robert Redford thought that "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" had little to do with the film's subject matter is actually a point in its favour. While "Raindrops" was a hit single that happened to have also been in a memorable movie, it could have just as easily thrived on its own, as, indeed, it does to this day.

Sadly, this is about as far as I can go with the "Raindrops" praise. After all those poptimist years of praise for the Bachrach and David catalog, I can confidently say that I don't like them — or, at best, I am highly disdainful of at least one of them. Sure, the former's melodies remain difficult to beat but the latter's moronic lyrics inevitably drag them down. While Lester Bangs (and others) rightfully went after Bernie Taupin for his limited skills as a wordsmith, little if anything is said about old Hal David. Bryan bloody Adams put more care into his lyrics than his nibs here. 

I suppose it's to B.J. Thomas' credit as a vocalist that all this nonsense verse gets swept under the rug — with a big assist to Bachrach along with guesting Wrecking Crew member Chuck Findley on trumpet (or flugelhorn) in what is the song's undoubted highlight. In fact, maybe I should take back what I said above about not having much praise for the maiden RPM number one of the seventies. But no, I won't be doing that. In spite of having some redeeming characteristics, it nevertheless remains stuck in that finger trap of supposedly uplifting songs that somehow only manage to depress me more. Sure, I'll do my best to dial back on the complaining (ha!) but only when "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" isn't playing; when it happens to be on, all bets are off.

Score: 4