It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo'

Performer: Carl Fenton's Orchestra
Composer: Hall
Brunswick, 1924
MP3 1,411K

This traditional piece of musical nonsense has accreted a kzillion additional verses over the years, most concerning livestock crushed by machinery or Mary and that insufferable lamb of hers. A jolly staple of the Boy Scout singalong.

This version is attributed to Hall, which would be Wendell Hall, pioneer of the plonky-plonky-plonky ukelele-solo school of crooning, who recorded the tune in 1923 and rocketed to stardom. No, really.

In 1926, the Ludwig company marketed a line of especially loud banjo ukes named after him, making Hall the Les Paul of the ukelele. A well made instrument, still much sought after by collectors, each and every one of which should please-god roast eternally in the sulphurous pits. The collectors or the ukes, either one.

  And speaking of perdition, these are indeed Hall's lyrics, including the refrain, "How in the world can the old folks tell?" The Scouts usually get around this thorny theological dilemma by singing, "How in the heck can I wash my neck?"

It's hell, ladies and gentlemen. HELL, okay? It's the only way the line scans right.

I forgive this recording everything, though. It's got some good instrumentals, and it employs a girls' chorus whose entire job is to softly sing "woo!" seven seconds in.

Ain't that keen?

Oh, the night was dark and dreary,
The air was full of sleet.
The old man stood out in the storm,
His shoes were full of feet.

Oh it ain't gonna rain no mo', no mo'
It ain't gonna rain no mo'.
But how in the world can the old folks tell,
It ain't gonna rain no mo'?

Oh, a black and white animal out in the woods,
Say, ain't that little cat pretty?
I went right over to pick it up
But it wasn't that kind of a kitty.   [I love the way he spits out kitty here. It sounds...rude]

Oh it ain't-a gonna rain no mo', no mo'
It ain't-a gonna rain no mo'.
But how in the world can the old folks tell,
It ain't-a gonna rain no mo'?

Oh, a man lay down by the sewer,
And by the sewer he died.
Now, at the coroner's request    [Ahhh! It's inquest. INQUEST, you maroon!]
They called it sewer-cide.

Oh it ain't-a gonna rain no mo', no mo'
It ain't-a gonna rain no mo'.
But how in the world can the old folks tell,
It ain't-a gonna rain no mo'?

Oh it ain't-a gonna rain-a no-na mo', no-na mo'
It ain't-a gonna rain-a no-na mo'.
But how in the world can the old folks tell,
It ain't-a gonna rain-a no-na mo'?

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