After 1972, I was always wary of a Neil Diamond concert...seems he became a lounge singer, a bad lounge singer singing trite and maudlin songs with a schtick just this side of Al Jolson comin' down from a bad acid buzz and smokin' dope just to soften the ride. Now...Neil's not only (technically) a lousy singer but he's a lousy singer who thinks he can sing - a dangerous and combustible lack of observing ego...even I know to confine my singing to the shower or the car The last time I saw him he performed to a sell out crowd at Pine Knob in Clarkston (now DTE). I was expecting a big Hershey Bar and all I got was a chocolate chip - and it was so bittersweet. Ever since that awful experience in 1972 - think Hot August Night - I flinched whenever a Neil Diamond show came back to the neighborhood. Lately I wondered if Neil woulda just kicked the bucket back in 1971, right after Cracklin' Rosie, he woulda been a shoo-in for the Rock 'N Roll Hall of Fame. Just think of it all those great early Brill-Building hits such as Cherry Cherry, Shilo, Kentucky Woman and his unprecedented and magnificent excursion into African music via Tap Root Manuscript but, alas, no train wreck, car crash, no plane goin' down...no Rock 'N Roll Hall of Fame. No -- Neil lived on to give us such unadulterated crap as Love on the Rocks and The Jonathan Livingston Seagull Suite...not to mention Play Me and Longfellow Serenade...YEECH.
But this time around I had hope for something different. Ya see, Diamond was recording a new stripped down album with famed producer Rick Rubin. He's the cat that did that last trilogy of albums with Johnny Cash, when Cash was terminally ill, just before he died. It was raw, stripped to the bone, aching and powerful - some of the best Americana music ever made - too real, too authentic for most folks. This is what Rubin was gonna do for Neil Diamond, strip off the pretension, make him strap that guitar back on, and write some great songs...just like he used to in the sixties and early seventies when he defied everyone's expectations and became a rock 'n roll icon. Not bad for a homely big-schnozzed Jewish kid. So I was excited about tonight's show, eagerly anticipating the re-birth of Neil Diamond circa 1969.
My wife Lisa and I are sitting in our seats, pretty good seats, just off the main floor, left/center when a disembodied voice, sounding somewhat what you might think God sounds like if he were a white upper-middle class American white dude, informs the audience they must kindly take their seats as no one will be allowed to be seated during the opening number.
"Hmm", I thought to myself, "are we getting off to a bad start?"
Suddenly this music starts building-up to a cresendo like Elvis' unfathomable use of 2001 Space Odyssey and platforms rise up from the depths of the stage, bringing each of the 14 band members into view - 3 girl singers; 4 horn players; 2 keyboard players; 1 drummer; 1 percussionist; and a stand-up bass player. And when Neil descended down the "Stairway to Heaven", I started to realize that this would be no stripped-down, back to basics artistic triumph...I was gettin' pretty nervous - and Neil hadn't sung a note yet. The glitzy send off did not ruin the opener, Grunchy Granola Suite. In fact, it wasn't bad at all...but then Diamond sang one crappy song after another - Beautiful Noise, Play Me, Love on The Rocks, Desiree, Longfellow Serenade, Remember Me - and having all those songs played in rapid rotation made me realize a coupla things...first off - THEY ARE ALL THE SAME SONG - the same chords, only switched arounds a bit, the same verse/chorus/verse hooks, only disgiused by the production, add a horn here; some strings there. secondly, Diamond's habit of talking through the verses and using his irritating and bombastic operatic voice on the chorus has become ingrained and practically ruins juts about every song he sings. The only saving grace during this slick Vegas lounge singer sputum was a passable but almost throwaway version of Cherry Cherry. This was the nadir of the show, it picked up with America Diamond's well-conceived and rockin' tribute to the courage of his immigrant grandparents, however, the crowd, instead of rockin' with the song, stood up joined hands and transformed Diamond's beautiful sentiments into a mindless appeal to false patriotism. I knew I didn't fit-in with this mass of 10,000 maniacs, too drunk on their own insecurities to allow the song its own voice. Diamond continued with some of his better later hits such as Forever in Blue Jeans and the poignant and touching You Don't Send Me Flowers with a great performance by vocalist Linda Press. To Diamond's credit he constructed skits and verse to introduce segments of the show. For instance he built an entire song with a cool jazz intro around his introduction of the band with the chorus
Bring the coffee
Ring the bell
Play it nasty
Give them hell
Whatever it takes
. The show got better and better and the crowd became more more invigorated when the early hits started showing up...Sweet Caroline, Holly Holy, a jazzed up I'm A Believer - then Diamond ruined the momentum with a horrid and interminable rendition of the Jonathan Livingston Seagull Suite, complete with a video from the film, Seagulls flying around and pooping all over God's green acre. But it was during a brief solo acoustic set that Diamond began to shine, sans the big band, Diamond revealing the soul behind such songs as Glory Road, The Grass Won't Pay No Mind, and Look Out Here Comes Tomorrow (his hit for the Monkees). The band re-joined him for Shilo, the UB40, reggaefied Red Red Wine, and a powerful Soolaimon that brought the show to an exciting finish - though disapointing "talking" versions of I Am I Said and Cracklin' Rosie ended the show on a sour note.
So this is a typical Neil Diamond show, perfect in its paradox, just like the man himself. For every Sweet Caroline or America was a Jonathan Livingston Seagull or Longfellow Serenade to dampen the mood. It made me wonder why Diamond could write such gems yet could also create such maudlin and overwrought crap. Is this his legacy?
Is Neil Diamond a Butt-Head... or something?
Peace
Bo White
8/7/05
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