1960 Roy Orbison: Only The Lonely

Never comfortable in the rocking role of his early career, Orbison's latter day reputation lies in a brace of sixties ballads bathed in the magic hour half light of a waking dream where endings are rarely happy and, for the most part, Roy is usually facing the wrong end of something good closing the door in his face on its way out. True to form, 'Only The Lonely' finds him in a paralysis of hurting at the end of one relationship with only the vague hope of a better tomorrow, tempered with the risk that the same thing could happen again - "Maybe tomorrow, a new romance. No more sorrow, but that’s the chance you gotta take if your lonely heart breaks".

Oh yes, self pity can be a cheap and ugly emotion to project, but the angle that elevates 'Only The Lonely' above this common herd is that Orbison isn't particularly looking for our sympathy: instead of identifying with the observational "all the lonely people" of 'Eleanor Rigby', Orbison's concern is with himself and a select subset of individuals with antenna crippled enough to tune into his crackling wavelength with empathy rather than sympathy. It makes 'Only The Lonely' an experience not to be shared - a song like 'One For My Baby' can trump it in the morose stakes, but the latter can be listened to whilst drowning your sorrows with a mate whereas Orbison presents much more of an insular canvas for an individual to project onto.

And this is why I think Springsteen was wide of the mark when he namechecks the song on his 'Thunder Road' - "The screen door slams, Mary's dress sways. Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays. Roy Orbison singing for the lonely, hey that's me and I want you only". As beautifully understated a piece of writing as that is (and a rather neat switch-around of the rhyme), Bruce's loneliness can be cured by the attentions of a convenient Mary. Roy doesn't acknowledge such an option; he's too fragile and uncertain for such a simple solution. All he can do is howl into the void, unreachable by anybody who might want to howl back and as befits such egotism, Orbison's voice is the focal point here, a resigned pleading that's strident in its anguish with a muted backing vocal keeping a respectful distance (though I've always heard its 'dum dum dummy' refrain as mocking rather than comforting. Not that it matters, Roy isn't listening to them anyway).

All of which makes its success inexplicable - hearing 'Only The Lonely' is like coming across a stranger sitting alone on a park bench holding their head in their hands. Some might pause to offer comfort, but most of us simply hurry by, keen not to get involved and giving thanks that they aren't the ones brought down to such a level. I may be reading far too much in this of course, and Bruce may be bang on the button, but this is what I hear in 'Only The Lonely'. And as I can be as egotistical and self centred as the best of them, it's why I think it's such a unique and tremendous achievement.