By: Teylita A. (Adapted by Editors)
Listen to Kanye West’s “Only One.” It’s a deeply personal track written from the perspective of his late mother, Donda West, speaking from heaven to her son. With minimalist production and Paul McCartney’s soft electric piano chords, the song seemingly has all the ingredients of a classic tearjerker. Yet, there’s a subtle barrier that keeps you from fully sinking into the grief.
Now, listen to the same song covered by Emily West and Postmodern Jukebox (PMJ). Reimagined in the style of a 1960s Roy Orbison ballad, this version swaps the synths for sweeping violins, a melancholic cello, a warm acoustic bass, and a grand piano. Front and center is Emily West’s soaring, gut-wrenching vocal performance.
It’s the exact same song, yet the PMJ cover feels infinitely more devastating. Why is that?
The Essence of “Only One” in Kanye’s Hands
When Kanye released “Only One” on New Year’s Eve in 2014, the premise alone was heartbreaking. Written as a tribute to his daughter, North, the song is voiced by his mother, Donda, who passed away in 2007 due to plastic surgery complications. Imagine a grieving son writing a letter from his deceased mother to himself and his newborn child. It’s a devastating concept.
To bring it to life, Kanye collaborated with Paul McCartney—an unexpected cross-generational and cross-genre pairing that left critics both fascinated and confused. Structurally, the track relies on a simple, looping chord progression and Kanye’s heavily autotuned vocals, reminiscent of his 808s & Heartbreak era. While the autotune serves an artistic purpose—giving Donda’s voice an ethereal, otherworldly quality—it ultimately creates an emotional buffer, distancing the listener from the raw pain of the lyrics.
Postmodern Jukebox and the Roy Orbison Magic
This is where Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox excels. Their signature formula is simple yet brilliant: take modern pop hits and wrap them in vintage musical aesthetics. For “Only One,” they channeled the spirit of 1960s Roy Orbison. Orbison, a titan of American pop, was famous for his dramatic, vulnerable ballads about heartbreak and loneliness. It was the perfect thematic match.
To deliver this emotional weight, PMJ tapped America’s Got Talent finalist Emily West. Her voice is a force of nature—capable of tender, hushed lows before exploding into a raw, unfiltered crescendo that carries the listener away on a wave of pure sorrow.
Why the Cover Hits Harder
So, why does the cover resonate so much more deeply? It’s not just a matter of “older music is better.” It comes down to emotional proximity. In Kanye’s original, the digital processing acts as a shield. We observe his grief from a distance, like looking at a specimen behind glass. PMJ shatters that glass.
Emily’s raw, unvarnished vocals tremble at the heavy phrases and soar during the painful climaxes. Acoustic instruments—strings and piano—provide an organic warmth that synthesizers simply cannot replicate. In fact, a study by Hailstone et al. (2009) at University College London found that electronic synthesizers actually diminish a listener’s ability to perceive sad emotions in a melody. The autotune and synths in Kanye’s version may have unintentionally stifled the song’s emotional core.
Furthermore, the framing changes entirely. Kanye’s version is inextricably linked to his polarizing public persona and the conventions of modern hip-hop. In PMJ’s hands, all that baggage evaporates. The song is stripped down to its barest form: a timeless, classical eulogy for a mother.
How Arrangement and Bias Shape Emotion
Science backs this up. A 2025 study published in Frontiers in Psychology examined how teenagers responded to three different arrangements of the exact same song. Researchers found that even when the lyrics and melody remained identical, different arrangements triggered vastly different emotional responses. The arrangement acts as the primary emotional delivery system.
Moreover, our perception of music is heavily influenced by how we view the artist. A 2023 study by Steinhardt & McClaran in Psychology of Music revealed that positive framing about an artist leads to higher musical ratings, while negative framing does the opposite. If you find yourself weeping to the cover but feeling detached from the original, you aren’t being overly sensitive—your brain is processing a complex web of musical and psychological cues.
The Shadow of Kanye West
It’s impossible to talk about Kanye West without acknowledging his endless parade of controversies. For many, his public antics have made it difficult to separate his music from his persona. If his name now triggers discomfort before his music even starts, you are not alone.
The “separate the art from the artist” debate is as old as time, but cognitive science suggests we can’t actually do it. A study by Kaube, Eiserbeck, and Abdel Rahman (2023) at Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin found that when we consume art by someone with a negative reputation, our brains do not spontaneously separate the two. Instead, negative information immediately alters how the brain processes the art, making us more defensive and critical. When you listen to Kanye’s “Only One,” there is a constant, subconscious static of controversy playing in the background. PMJ’s cover silences that static, offering a clean emotional slate.
So, Who Wins?
Perhaps that is the wrong question to ask.
Kanye’s original remains a monumental piece of art—a raw, vulnerable letter from a grieving son that deserves respect. But Postmodern Jukebox proves something beautiful: a truly great song is bigger than its creator. When stripped of personal controversy and dressed in the right emotional colors, a melody and a lyric can transcend the artist entirely, speaking directly to the universal human soul.