While he's become something of a punch line in the later stages of his career -- he's sometimes derided as the Jewish Frank Sinatra -- few U.S. pop singer/songwriters can stand alongside Neil Diamond. From his early days as a shining cog in New York's Brill Building songwriting machine to his mid-career heights of Beautiful Noise (and even select tracks from Jonathan Livingston Seagull) Diamond has been known as a songwriter and singer of melodic (most of his stuff), sometimes dramatic ("I Am...I Said,") and sometimes syrupy ("You Don't Bring Me Flowers" duet with Barbra Streisand) music. But his 1960s and 1970s output carried a real pop charge. His early Brill hits -- "I'm A Believer," "Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)," "A Little Bit of Me, A Little Bit of You" -- helped put The Monkees on the musical map and generated industry interest not only in Diamond's writing but in his singing, at which he'd been unsuccessful to that point. He inked a contract with Bang Records in 1966 and the hits started to come. "Solitary Man" was his first success, soon to be followed by "Cherry, Cherry," "Kentucky Woman" (eventually covered by both Elvis Presley and Deep Purple), and "Thank the Lord for the Nighttime."
Following a switch to MCA Records in 1970 he dominated the charts with "Sweet Caroline," "Holly Holy," "Cracklin' Rosie," "Song Sung Blue," and "I Am...I Said." He simply was everywhere on the radio. Then in 1972 he performed at L.A.'s Greek Theater, recording the event for arguably one of the finest live recordings ever made, Hot August Night. Not only does the recording showcase every facet of Diamond's greatest songwriting in a live setting and with a full band, but it demonstrates his ability to connect, albeit a little dramatically, with a pop audience. His introduction to "I Am...I Said" is classic Diamond, "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show" is a close-to-perfect embodiment of the gospel-tinged musical era portrayed in the song, and "Cherry Cherry" rocks with Diamond doing a great job on rhythm guitar.
In 1976, on the verge of becoming musically irrelevent, he was invited (surprisingly) to perform at The Band's The Last Waltz concert, singing the overwrought "Dry Your Eyes" he'd penned with Robbie Robertson. (Robertson fought for the invite and defended it by saying Diamond represented the Brill Building era...true enough but his selection probably had more to do with the fact Roberston was currently producing Diamond's Beautiful Noise record.) After that Diamond's career, which had had its peaks, settled into a long creative valley, with the 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s being relatively uninspired despite scoring some big middle-of-the-road hits such as "Love On the Rocks." His biggest impact lately has been when others recorded his songs (such as UB40's cover of "Red Red Wine" and Johnny Cash recording "Solitary Man"). But his own output has been, to put it mildly, dreck. "America" is representative, and though it gets oldsters tuning in the radio, buying the CDs, and on their feet (though not on their chairs) at his still sold-out concerts, he's written nothing in the last 25 years with the strength, polish or insight of his early work.
Where Neil Diamond is polished and slick straight-ahead pop, Tom Waits is rough, unfinished, and more than a little scary. He's the guy huddling in the alleyway, his hands stuffed in his torn pockets, pulling his jacket down so his neck gets cold...stay away! He's the guy in the knit cap who rides the L all night long...don't make eye contact! He's a raconteur for the dispossessed with a voice that almost makes Bob Dylan sound like Bing Crosby, singing and writing from the dark side of the soul. He blends rock, blues, and jazz in unexpected ways, and his lyrics about the forgotten and the feared and the afraid have generated critical raves, enormous respect from other artists who cover his songs with regularity -- and barely enough popular success to survive doing what he does.
Those who aren't fans might know him for the knockout "Jersey Girl," covered by Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band (check out this live version which starts after a meandering coffeehouse intro), and by "Downtown Train," a hit for none other than late-period Rod Stewart. And his reworking of the Australian anti-war "Waltzing Matilda" in his "Tom Traubert's Blues" is heart wrenching and masterful -- listen to this gorgeous cut from The Old Grey Whistle Stop. His music and lyrics are rarely upbeat, but given the undertone of life on the edge that permeates his writing that's no surprise. His melodies have a creeping impact on the listener -- often you can't pick them out right away because he growls them at you, but they sneak up on you by the end of the song. And Waits is an experimenter, his recordings and concert tours ranging from acoustic folk efforts to electric metal, jazz-infected rock, blues for the down and out, and just about everything in between. He's a melting pot of styles and sounds, making his vast catalog well worth dipping into.
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