You know that feeling when you're at a party, surrounded by people, yet you feel like you're standing on a different planet? That's the vibe. It’s 1982. Martha Davis is standing in a vintage-style hotel bar in a music video that basically defined the "New Wave Noir" aesthetic. But the lyrics only the lonely the motels fans have hummed for decades aren't just about a breakup. They’re about the hollow pit of success.
Honestly, most people get this song wrong. They hear the sultry saxophone—played by Marty Jourard—and the smooth, atmospheric production and think it’s a standard "I miss you" track. It isn't. It’s a diary entry from a woman who was reaching the top of the charts while her personal life was a total train wreck.
The Secret Meaning Behind the Words
Martha Davis has been pretty open about where these words came from. She wrote the song on a guitar her father found in a hallway at UC Berkeley. It wasn’t a planned hit. She says the song "just sat there" waiting to be played.
When you look at the line, “We walked the loneliest mile / We smiled without any style,” you’re seeing the contrast of fame. At the time, The Motels were touring the world and riding in limos. They were the "it" band of the L.A. scene. But Martha was grieving the death of her parents and trapped in a relationship that she later described as pretty horrible.
The lyrics are about "empty success." You’ve got everything you ever wanted, but you’re so isolated by the experience that you might as well be alone in a room. That’s why the chorus hits so hard: “It’s like I told you / Only the lonely can play.” It’s a game of pretend. You’re pretending to be the rock star while you’re actually falling apart.
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Why "Only the Lonely" Almost Never Happened
It’s wild to think about, but this song was nearly buried. The Motels originally recorded a much darker, weirder album called Apocalypso. Capitol Records heard it and basically said, "No thanks, too weird." They shelved the whole project.
Producer Val Garay was brought in to polish things up. He took the bones of Apocalypso and refined them into the album All Four One.
- The Original Version: If you listen to the Apocalypso version (which finally got released in 2011), it’s more jagged.
- The Hit Version: The 1982 version slowed things down. It added that "expensive" 80s sheen.
It worked. The song peaked at number 9 on the Billboard Hot 100 in July 1982. It stayed there for four weeks. It was the band's first real breakthrough, but it came at the cost of a lot of internal friction. Martha and guitarist Tim McGovern were actually breaking up while recording. Imagine trying to cut a hit record while your relationship is imploding in the same room.
Decoding the Most Famous Lines
Let’s look at the bridge. “I feel so lonely way up here.” That's not a metaphor for a skyscraper. It’s a metaphor for the pedestal of fame. When you’re "way up here," you can’t touch anyone. You’re isolated by the very thing you worked for.
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Then there’s the line about the “drinks.” “We lied about each other's drinks.” This is such a specific, messy human detail. It’s about the small deceptions in a failing relationship. You’re covering for each other’s habits. You’re ignoring the elephant in the room. You’re living together, but you’re living "without each other."
The Music Video Factor
You can't talk about the lyrics only the lonely the motels delivered without mentioning the video. Directed by Russell Mulcahy (who later did Highlander), it turned the song into a cinematic event. Martha plays a socialite in a posh hotel who slowly gets overwhelmed by a crowd that feels increasingly unstable.
It won "Best Performance in a Music Video" at the AMAs. Why? Because Martha wasn't acting. She was actually feeling that alienation. That "loneliest mile" was her reality.
How to Truly Experience the Song Today
If you want to get the most out of this track, stop listening to it as a background pop song.
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- Listen to the Apocalypso version first. You’ll hear the raw, unpolished pain in Martha’s voice before the studio gloss was added.
- Read the lyrics like a poem. Forget the melody for a second. Look at the repetition of "Hold on." It’s a plea for stability in a world that’s spinning out of control.
- Watch the live versions from 1982. You can see the tension in the band. It’s palpable.
The song resonates today—especially in the era of social media—because we’re all still doing exactly what Martha was doing. We’re "smiling without any style." We’re showing the world the limo ride while we’re feeling the isolation of the "loneliest mile."
It’s a masterclass in songwriting because it takes a universal emotion and dresses it up in a tuxedo. It’s beautiful, it’s cold, and it’s brutally honest. Only the lonely can play, but as Martha Davis proved, sometimes the lonely end up writing the greatest songs of all time.
To get the full impact, put on some high-quality headphones and pay attention to the way the saxophone fades out at the end. It sounds like a sigh. That's the sound of someone finally letting go of a secret.
Actionable Insight: The next time you feel a sense of "imposter syndrome" or isolation despite your successes, go back and listen to Only the Lonely. It’s a reminder that even at the height of New Wave stardom, the biggest names in music were feeling exactly like you do. Authenticity doesn't always have to be loud; sometimes it's a quiet, lonely melody that refuses to go away.