Hi, we're your weather girls,
And have we got news for you.
Get ready all you lonely girls,
And leave those umbrellas at home.
Originally a hit for larger-than-life gospel singers Martha Wash and Izora Rhodes Armstead, It's Raining Men ranks alongside YMCA and I Will Survive as a camp Disco classic. Covered to wicked extremes, it is virtually impossible to find anyone who hasn't heard the song at least once, and it's a hard-hearted audience member who stoutly refuses to join in with the chorus.
It's raining men, hallelujah, it's raining men - every specimen.
Tall, blond, dark and lean, rough and tough and strong and mean.
Originally going by the name Two Tons Of Fun, a sly nod to their plump and cuddly nature, Martha and Izora formed backup for Sylvester, fondly remembered for his own disco classics, including You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real). Their gospel roots provided that disco diva appeal, and it was almost inevitable that the duo would go on to bigger and better things.
I hear stormy weather moving in.
About to break it, about to begin.
Hear the thunder, don't you lose your head.
Rip off the roof and stay in bed.
1982 saw them release the track that provided their new name, and The Weather Girls were on the scene. Only too happy to sing Paul Jabara and Paul Shaffer's unbridled raunchy lyrics, the Weather Girls exhorted the virtues of tall, dark men - rough, tough, strong and mean, no less - and found themselves a place in the heart of disco-lovers everywhere, not to mention a very special place with every gay man who's ever found himself alone of an evening with nothing but a worn 7" of ABBA's Voulez-Vous to sustain him.
God bless Mother Nature,
She's a single woman too.
She took on the heavens,
And she did what she had to do
Notable cover versions include Geri Halliwell's recent offering, a version which did not go down well, and a squarely-aimed pink pound puller by RuPaul, who teamed up with Martha Wash to produce what they called 'the sequel'. Donna Summers, The Pointer Sisters and Aretha Franklin all had their moments of meteorological mimicry, and with enough searching a whole plethora of mass-produced dance cover versions are out there.
Sadly, in September of 2004 Izora Rhodes Armstead died of heart failure at a hospital near San Francisco.
