Neil Diamond

12 Songs - 2005

Neil Diamond has always been a singular figure in pop music. Raised and trained in the Brill Building era of songwriters,

cranking out tunes like well crafted widgets, he found himself thrust into and embracing the outwardly self conscious

singer/songwriter boom of the early 70s. Never completely at ease in either world he adopted a style heavily laced with showy

melodrama, while focusing his craftsman’s chops to a studied perfection. Needless to say, this didn’t always work, but it

frequently coalesced into a formidable and unique sound resulting in numerous hits. Then, after the Jazz Singer, something

snapped. He spent the past 20 years God knows where doing God Knows what, occasionally surfacing to churn out Godawful

dreck.

No one would blame you if during this period you wrote him off as a textbook has-been. His output was so insubstantial

that you’d have been making an effort just to acknowledge him - which is what makes 12 Songs, in its own unassuming way, such

a triumph. It’s not that Diamond has recorded a masterpiece, since quite a good portion of this is decidedly B material. It’s

that the good stuff represents Neil at his best, exploiting his considerable knack for melody and structure to the fullest.

Here we have songs that sit comfortably next to his best 70’s work; songs like Stones, Dry Your Eyes, and Play Me. 12 Songs

is an interesting title to have chosen, not only because its simplicity is well reflected in Rubin’s presentation, but

because it’s also the title of a classic album by Randy Newman, an artist from the same 60’s Tin Pan Alley background who

chose a much different path in the decade to follow. I’m taking the liberty to read something significant into this, simply

because Diamond had to know the quantum leap back into relevance he was sitting on.

I’m going to do you a favour and tell you all the good songs on the album. Fortunately, Diamond and producer Rick Rubin

made it easy by front-loading the best material to an uncanny degree. The highlights run six in a row from the start – Oh

Mary, Hell Yeah, Captain of a Shipwreck, Evermore, Save Me a Saturday Night, and Delirious Love. It kind of drops off from

there, but that’s ok, because these are six great Neil Diamond songs. For an artist known more for his hits than his albums,

that’s quite an accomplishment and a bonanza for fans. It actually seems a bit unfair criticizing the lesser songs on the

disc, because while the lapse in quality is noticeable as you progress, these cuts are still a vast improvement over his

dicey output in recent decades.

You may ask where I get off heartily recommending an album, half of which I’m allowing is not that terrific. Once again,

I’m astounded by the way some legendary artists from the past have reinvigorated themselves to make some of the best music of

their careers. Dylan, McCartney, Cale, Wilson; the list is impressive. Add Neil to the bunch, buy this album and hear what

made him a legend in the first place. Those first 6 songs are as good a place to start as any greatest hits package.