A Quiet Lament That Speaks of a Father’s Undying Love
“The Only One” is a tender, posthumous B-side gem by Roy Orbison, featured on his final studio album, Mystery Girl (1989). Though never released as an A-side, it was paired with the single “You Got It,” which soared to No. 9 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and reclaimed Orbison’s place in the Top 10 for the first time in a quarter-century.
In the waning months of his life, Roy Orbison returned to the studio with a sense of quiet purpose. After years of relative quiet, Mystery Girl marked a poignant comeback — released shortly after his death in December 1988 and arriving in the UK at No. 2. Among its tracks lies “The Only One,” a song of profound intimacy and legacy.
Unlike the bombastic crescendos that defined many of Orbison’s greatest hits, “The Only One” whispers its weight. According to retrospective accounts, the song was written by Orbison alongside his son Wesley, a deeply personal gift — the surviving son offering something enduring to his father. There is little in the way of grand production; instead, the arrangement is uncluttered, letting Orbison’s voice—fragile yet resolute—carry the emotional gravity.
Lyrically, the song reflects a father’s bond. The language is affectionate and protective, not sentimental in a clichéd way, but grounded in a hard-won understanding of family, loss, and survival. The repeated refrain of “only the one” resonates like a vow: this relationship, this child, is irreplaceable. There’s a bittersweet tension in the melody, as if Orbison is acutely aware of his impermanence yet determined to leave something enduring.
Musically, it draws on Orbison’s signature style—subtle, spare instrumentation that frames rather than competes with his voice. The production favors sparse strings or perhaps a soft guitar, placing his vocals at the forefront. It’s this restraint that makes the emotional moment so powerful: his voice seems to float above the accompaniment, as though addressing someone across a quiet room.
In the broader arc of Orbison’s career, “The Only One” stands as a remarkable testament. It’s not a chart-topping hit or a showy anthem. Instead, it serves as a deeply personal epilogue to a life marked by triumph and tragedy. The song may not have dominated the airwaves, but in the years since, it has grown in stature among fans who appreciate its sincerity and the way it encapsulates Orbison’s later years: reflective, reconciled, and haunted by love.
As The Vinyl Archivist, I see “The Only One” not just as a B-side, but as a quiet final letter — a piece of legacy that speaks across generations, reminding us that even in fragility, there is dignity, and in simplicity, there is power.