turned down the use of that song [Urge Overkill’s cover of “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon”]. I thought the scene it was used in was heavily into the drug ambience, and I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t allow my music to sensationalize drug use. But my publisher argued on Quentin’s behalf, and I reconsidered, even though I was very, very wary about it. That was really the beginning of the turnaround for me.
Where had you gone wrong before that? The ’80s were a sleepy decade for me. I didn’t fit in. I felt videos had no place in music and refused to do them, so I concentrated on touring. But when Pulp Fiction brought me back to the forefront, I realized that if I had been wrong about that, then how many other situations could I also have been wrong about? Maybe I could have done some interesting videos. After reexamining what I was doing, I reached the conclusion that I wasn’t satisfied with my work. I had been avoiding the process of going inside myself and writing songs; everything was collaboration. I had to get back to the solitary style of writing.
Do you feel like you’re following in Johnny Cash’s footsteps by working once again with Rick Rubin? I had that conversation early on in my relationship with Rick—I told him I did not want to be Johnny Cash, I wanted to be Neil Diamond. If he saw me as Neil Diamond, we would be able to work together, but if he saw me as Johnny Cash, we were done talking. We never had to talk about that again.
Neil Diamond
The Dixie Chicks’ Natalie Maines sings on the album’s “Another Day ( That Time Forgot).” Did the two of you talk politics? I’ve only just begun to ponder the election. I’ve been cloistered for the last 14 or 15 months writing the music for Home Before Dark. In that time, I have not read a newspaper, I have not seen a television show, I have not gone to the movies. I’m a baseball addict, and I have not seen a single baseball game. When I’m making an album, I turn everything else off.
Barry Bonds broke the home-run record.
When you regularly perform in spangly shirts, it can be hard to get taken seriously. So with the release of 2005’s spare, elegiac 12 Songs (produced by Rick Rubin), Neil Diamond sought to remind skeptics that he wasn’t just the guy to blame for those annoying “Sweet Caroline” Red Sox sing-alongs. The album’s solemn storytelling and acoustic settings reopened doors for the 67-year-old Diamond that stayed open for the stately new Home Before Dark (Columbia), also produced by Rubin. “I’m writing how I did when I started,” says Diamond. “In my heart of hearts, I’m not only ‘Forever in Blue Jeans.’”
Is it a backhanded compliment when people talk about your recent music as a return to form? I take that at face value. People can like the album for whatever reasons they want. I’ve always written darker and more introspective songs, but they have been sublimated by my more commercial tunes. I secretly hope someday people will sit down and examine my work and come to their own conclusions about it. I don’t think my place in the music world will be understood until I’m gone.
In the movie What About Bob? Bill Murray’s character says there are two kinds of people in the world: those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t. Is that true? I don’t know if that’s true. When my new album was played in Europe by my management team, there were people from certain countries at the listening session who cried. Then there were people…the French representatives gave it the cold shoulder. They didn’t get it. This is life. What can I possibly do?
You once said you dreamt of doing as much musically as “Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, and Robert Frost.” I must’ve been smoking something when I said that.
You’ve sold 120 million albums, and your divorce settlement cost you $150 million dollars. Which number means more?
The settlement number is totally untrue. A newspaper person made that number up out of thin air, and I’ve not been able to live it down. Early on, I decided not to even try—I thought I’d get on with my life. But I’ll go on record now for the first time and say that it’s ridiculous. I wish it were true. She was a great woman.
BY DAVID MARCHESE
ROGER RESSME YER/CORBIS
References:
http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=3589628
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=35076381
http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?id=279641267&s=143441
Archives