In the fantastic movie “What about Bob?,” Bill Murray tells his therapist Richard Dreyfus that “There are two types of people in the world: those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t. And my wife loves him.”
This is the analogy that Bob uses to describe why his marriage fails and subsequently why his life turns into a schizophrenic rollercoaster ride bound for hell. On its face, the exchange seems like any other ridiculously contrived scenario scripted by a Hollywood writer pandering to pop culture stereotypes. However, I’ve thought about the particular scene a lot and believe it to be true. It’s a very Bushian “with us or against us attitude” that applies quite well to most people.
Now, anyone slightly knowledgeable about music usually has a very concrete opinion about Neil Diamond: That he sucks. But I should mention first and foremost that I think Neil is a badass in every sense of the word. The guy is pure cock. So, obviously, it’s apparent what camp I fall in with.
And, hopefully, not to sound like I am auditioning for the sequel to Saving Silverman, the intro to Crunchy Granola Suite on Hot August Nights still makes me happier (i.e. when I am fall down drunk) than any other song I’ve ever heard. If you’re not dancing on a raised surface or dry humping a bar stool by the time that song ends, then we’re probably not going to be friends. [Editors note, I have two friends]
Of course critics will always hate a guy like Neil Diamond. He’s the Velveeta of cheese dicks, the quintessential hairy ball of testosterone that kind of reminds you of your least favorite uncle. He dresses in shirts that porn stars at discothèques couldn’t pull off. His lyrics are mediocre at best and his catalog includes names of songs like “Soggy Pretzels” and “Porcupine Pie.” But what these so-called experts often fail to realize is that THE NEIL thrives off of the criticism. How do I know this? Because I saw the man say it on VH1 Behind the Music, that’s how.
Plus, Neil ranks behind only Elton John and Barbra Streisand for most records sold amongst living artists – over 120 million. And when you live in the same space as Streisand, highbrows who still view music as art probably should dismiss you. However, can music ever really be bad if it does the two things it’s supposed to do: Make you want to dance and have unprotected sex with strangers?
No.
Neil isn’t the only artist I loved that the collective pool of paid music aficionados hated. The Beastie Boys (especially their album Paul’s Boutique, which is quite possibly the best music compilation ever made) was trashed by critics, who called the Brooklyn trio misogynists and frat-boy messiahs. Also when I was big into Dave Matthews, I still remember an unflattering portrait in Spin magazine that wounded my soul.
Growing up, my ultimate barometer for a band being cool was my older brother. If he listened to them I dug it by default. My first memories were of him listening to a lot of show-us-your-tits hair bands, but I think I kind of missed that boat. Groups like Pearl Jam, the Dire Straits and Neil Young I recall hearing in his car as he drove us to school, and man oh man, Eddie Vedder was pure cock as well.
This still holds true today, and he’s almost always the one that introduces me to new music. And now, largely because of him, there’s stuff on my iPod that even critics adore, like Wilco, whom I agree kicks ass with boots on.
Anyway getting back to Neil and the cultural chasm that his music has created. Unfortunately the folks who generally say they love Neil are either big fans of the refrain to Sweet Caroline (but think Red, Red Wine is a UB40 song) or are women nearing death hoping for one last orgasm. And the man that will give it to them: “The Diamond in the please-don’t-make-it-rough, Neil.”
This is why his music is so easy to dismiss. To steal a line from Chuck Klosterman’s Fargo Rock City, people like artists based on who else likes that artist. It’s natural and will never change. And when you’re at a show and all you see is slurring 20-somethings and horny members of the Greatest Generation singing Cracklin Rosie (while Neil is supine on the stage), I agree it might be difficult to take the dude seriously.
My only argument though would be that Neil understands what he was and has become. Don’t get me wrong, I think he takes himself seriously and would be offended if anyone were to insinuate that he were a joke or novelty act, but he knows his shtick and lives in it and with it to the fullest.
The guy may not necessarily be a visionary, but try throwing him on at an after-hours party and see how the crowd responds. If he bombs, you need new friends.
If he nails it, you’ll need a new coffee table. Take your pick. It’s always a choice with the diamond that is forever polarazing.
