Opening with one of the most penetrating questions in the annals of 60s pop - “what should I write? What can I say? How can I tell you how much I miss you?” - Carole King’s ”It Might As Well Rain Until September” falls into that wonderful sequence of end-of-the-school-year weepies that permeated the early decade, as a heartbroken girl mourns her separation from her boyfriend for the summer. “The weather here has been as nice as it can be,” she tells him in a letter, “although it doesn’t matter much to me.” What, after all, is the point of sunshine when there’s nobody to enjoy it with?
Over an accompaniment that matches soaring strings with clunky piano, King’s vocal positively aches with loss and envy. “My friends look forward to picnics on the beach… but …while your arms are out of reach, the summer isn’t any friend of mine.”
Originally released in early 1962 on the Companion label, ”It Might As Well Rain Until September” was then picked up to launch Don Kirshner’s Dimension, when it rose to #22 on the US chart… appropriately enough, in September.