“The One,” the opening track from The Chainsmokers’ 2017 debut album Memories…Do Not Open, is a somber, slow-burning ballad that lays the entire album’s themes bare. At its core, “The One” is a heavyhearted confession of realizing a relationship is over long before anyone has the courage to say it. It’s a song about the slow, painful “drifting off” from a partner, the selfishness that fuels it, and the cowardly hope that you won’t be “the one” to finally end things.
Released as a promotional single, the song shocked many fans. Instead of the explosive, nostalgic drops of “Closer” or “Paris,” it opens with a simple, melancholic piano. Andrew Taggart’s vocals are raw and hesitant, perfectly matching the song’s meaning. It’s a track that trades euphoria for a quiet, relatable sense of guilt.
This song is not just a random story; it’s a personal confession. The Chainsmokers (Andrew Taggart and Alex Pall) have been very open about its dual meaning, which explores the strain of their newfound fame on all their relationships, both platonic and romantic.
Part 1: The Dual Meaning: Fame, Guilt, and Fading Romance
In a track-by-track breakdown of the album, The Chainsmokers explained that “The One” was born from two distinct, personal stories that merged into a single, powerful narrative.
Story 1: The Guilt of Success (Verse 1)
The first verse is a direct result of the duo’s meteoric rise to fame. After “Closer” became one of the biggest songs on the planet, their lives became a whirlwind of touring, press, and studio sessions. This relentless schedule had real-world consequences.
The band revealed that the first verse was written after Andrew Taggart felt immense guilt for having to miss a close friend’s wedding. This specific event became a symbol for a larger, more painful realization: their career was forcing them to become absent friends and family members.
When Taggart sings about not making it to the “party” and being “caught up in my own selfishness,” he is literally talking about his new life as a celebrity. He is admitting that his focus has shifted, and this “selfishness”—his career, his ambition—is preventing him from being “a part of this” (his “old” life, his friendships).
The verse perfectly captures the anxiety of this new reality. The feeling of being physically present but mentally absent is a major theme. The song describes being at an event, unable to be in the moment, and just wanting to leave. This “drifting off” isn’t just from a romantic partner; it’s from everyone they used to be close to.
Story 2: The Coward’s Breakup (Verse 2 & Chorus)
The second verse, and the song’s main theme, applies this same feeling of “drifting off” to a romantic relationship. The band described this part of the song as being about “someone who is realizing that they’ve mentally moved on from a romantic relationship but don’t have the courage to end it.”
This is the song’s brutal, honest core. It’s about being in a relationship that is, for all intents and purposes, already dead. The love has faded, the connection is gone, and both people are just “playing pretend.”
This section is a masterclass in describing the anxiety of an impending breakup. The song’s narrator knows it’s “pathetic” but can’t bring himself to be the bad guy. This is a fear many listeners on forums like Reddit have called “painfully relatable.” It’s the fear of making a mistake, of being the one to cause the pain, and of the “what if” that will haunt you later.
The narrator’s selfishness, his “drifting off,” is a sign that he has already moved on. His indecision is what’s making both people miserable. This leads directly to the song’s title and central plea.
Part 2: In-Depth Lyrical Analysis: The Chorus
The chorus of “The One” is one of the most passive-aggressive and emotionally honest in modern pop. It’s not a dramatic confrontation; it’s a quiet, cowardly wish.
“Down and down we go / We’ll torch this place we know”
This imagery is bleak. The relationship is a ship that is already sinking (“down and down we go”). There is no attempt to save it. Instead, the narrator suggests they will “torch this place we know.” This “place” is the entire history of their relationship—the memories, the apartment, the shared life.
It’s a “scorched earth” policy. They will let the relationship self-destruct in a fiery, mutual “downfall” rather than have a clean, difficult conversation. They will let it become so toxic and miserable that it collapses on its own.
“Before one of us takes a chance / And breaks this, I won’t be the one”
This is the song’s thesis. “Taking a chance and breaking this” is the mature, honest, and brave thing to do. It’s the “one” action that could save them from the slow, toxic “down and down” spiral.
But the narrator openly confesses his cowardice: “I won’t be the one.” He refuses to be the person who pulls the trigger. He would rather let them both suffer, let the whole thing “torch,” than be the one responsible for the end. He is hoping his partner will do it first, so he can avoid the guilt of being “the one.”
The repetition of “No, I won’t be the one” in the breakdown is the sound of him solidifying this selfish, passive decision. It’s the moment he fully commits to his own inaction, sealing the relationship’s fate.
Part 3: In-Depth Lyrical Analysis: The Verses
The song’s two verses act as a “confession” (Verse 1) and a “sentencing” (Verse 2), both sung by Taggart with a sense of resigned sadness.
Verse 1: The Confession of a Ghost
The first verse establishes the narrator as a ghost in his own life. When he apologizes for missing the “party,” it’s a weak excuse. The real problem is his “selfishness,” which he describes as an outside force that “won’t let me” participate in the relationship. He is already an outsider.
This “selfishness” is his own emotional detachment. He has already left the relationship in his mind. He’s “drifting off every second.”
The most cutting lines are about his behavior when they are together. He “can’t wait to leave as soon as I arrive” and “count[s] the seconds.” This is a devastating admission. It tells his partner (and his friends) that spending time with them is now a chore, an obligation he must endure. He is no longer present, and his only goal is to escape.
Verse 2: The Pathetic, Unsent Text
The second verse is where the narrator’s self-loathing and cowardice become explicit. He knows his behavior is “pathetic,” and he doesn’t even care. “Fuck it, yeah, I said it.” This is the sound of someone who has given up trying to be the “good guy.”
He’s “tried to tell it like it is,” but he’s afraid of the consequences—the “chance that I’ll regret it.” This is the core fear: What if he’s wrong? What if this is just a phase, and he’s throwing away the best thing he ever had? This fear is what paralyzes him.
This leads to the song’s most modern and relatable image of a breakup: the unsent text. “Let’s go, let’s end this / I delete before I send it.”
He has written the breakup text. He has typed out the words “it’s over.” But he can’t hit send. He deletes it, and in doing so, he condemns them both to more time in this emotional prison.
He chooses the lie. “And we can play pretend / Like we haven’t reached the end yet.” This is the “new normal” for the relationship: a hollow charade where both people are fully aware that the end has already happened, but neither is willing to say it out loud.
Part 4: The Sound: A “Heavyhearted” Pivot
“The One” was a musical statement. As the opener to their debut album, Memories…Do Not Open, it was a deliberate choice to show a different, more “somber” and “introspective” side of the band.
The music, a sparse piano ballad, is the sound of the song’s meaning. It’s hesitant and melancholic. It’s the opposite of a party. The song does gradually build, adding a soft EDM beat at the climax, but it’s not a “drop” in the traditional sense. It’s not a release of euphoria; it’s a release of tension.
MTV News at the time called it a “heavyhearted breakup song.” It set the tone for the entire album, which was heavily criticized by some for being too “somber” and “lifeless.” But for fans, the album’s title, Memories…Do Not Open, is explained perfectly by this first track.
“The One” is one of those memories. It’s a painful “memory” of a relationship’s end, a “memory” of your own cowardice and selfishness, that you’d rather not “open.” The song is a “box” of these bad feelings.
Conclusion: The Relatability of a “Pathetic” Feeling
“The One” endures as one of The Chainsmokers’ most honest and vulnerable tracks. It’s a song for anyone who has ever been on either side of a dying relationship. It captures the specific, modern agony of “drifting off” and the shame of knowing you’re the problem.
The song is a brutal confession of two intertwined truths. First, that massive success (like missing a friend’s wedding) can feel a lot like personal failure. Second, that sometimes the hardest part of a breakup isn’t the screaming match; it’s the deafening silence before it, when both people are just “playing pretend,” each one selfishly waiting for the other to finally be “the one.”