The Agony and Ecstasy of Reckless Devotion: A Night’s Journey for Love
There are few voices in the annals of popular music that can summon the depths of heartbreak and the soaring heights of passion quite like Roy Orbison. His songs, often cinematic in scope, are timeless journeys into the romantic soul, and the belatedly released track “I Drove All Night” is a stunning, haunting testament to this legacy. It’s a song not just about travel, but about the overwhelming, almost primal need to be in the presence of the one you love.
The remarkable history of this single is woven with threads of anticipation and unfortunate timing. Roy Orbison recorded the song, penned by the hit-making duo Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly, in 1987. Tragically, “The Big O” passed away suddenly in December 1988 before his version saw the light of day. The song was first released to great success by Cyndi Lauper in 1989, peaking at a remarkable Number 6 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and Number 7 on the UK Singles Chart.
The Roy Orbison version, which many feel captures the true, dark yearning of the lyrics, was finally released in June 1992 on his posthumous album, King of Hearts. Even four years after his death, the power of his voice resonated deeply with listeners, driving his recording to a peak of Number 7 on the UK Singles Chart, an almost eerie echo of Lauper’s earlier success. For his fans, it was a poignant, bittersweet rediscovery of the master’s work.
The Soul of the Journey
At its core, “I Drove All Night” is a narrative of a powerful, consuming desire—a feverish compulsion that overrides logic and distance. The lyrics, with their famous lines, “I drove all night to get to you / Is that alright? / I drove all night, crept in your room / Woke you from your sleep to make love to you / Is that alright?,” describe an escape from a “city was sticky and cruel” and a reckless, all-consuming rush towards solace in a lover’s arms. The question, “Is that alright?,” isn’t just a polite query; it’s an admission of the obsessive nature of the act, a vulnerable plea for forgiveness for such unannounced, desperate devotion.
In Orbison‘s hands, the song transforms into a classic ballad of magnificent despair and hope. His extraordinary, three-octave voice, that perfect blend of operatic grandeur and raw rock and roll intensity, turns the drive into a pilgrimage, a race against an empty universe. The instrumentation—a lush, almost spectral landscape of sound—complements the drama, creating that signature Orbison sound that makes him so irresistible. The song’s late release only added to its nostalgic quality, serving as a final, powerful whisper from the legend, reminding us one last time of the beautiful agony he could convey with a single, sustained note. It’s a memory, now, of a different time, a time when a voice could truly break your heart and mend it all at once.
This clip explores the fascinating story behind how Roy Orbison‘s version came to be and the role the songwriters played in its eventual release. Roy Orbison & The Story of I Drove All Night