COLUMBIA, £11.99NEIL Diamond recently asked a journalist to imagine his career "without the shirts". That's a tall order. For the majority of his fans, Diamond is the showman in the sequined shirt, churning out the euphoric, slig
htly cheesy yet somehow evergreen party singalongs.
But Diamond has other ideas. Now 67, he is certainly in the autumn of his career and, while he would never turn his back on his bread and butter, one gets the sense that he wants to make whatever songwriting and recording time he has left count for something emotionally.
In that respect, producer Rick Rubin – the hirsute hippy who first brought rap and rock together on his Def Jam record label in the 1980s but, more recently, oversaw Johnny Cash's universally acclaimed final recordings – is the ideal collaborator. In 2005, the pair got together and produced 12 Songs, an album of stripped-back material that allowed Diamond to act his age.
Not everyone approved of the new simple, sombre direction. There have been accusations that this latest work is dreary and indulgent, as if the very thought of an artist writing for himself rather an audience was offensive. Enough about you, Neil – what about us, huh?
There will always be those who don't wish to relinquish the image of Diamond as glitzy Vegas performer but, thankfully, he has ignored his critics and stuck to his guns with great integrity to produce Home Before Dark, another unapologetically personal, confessional album of quiet revelations. Although one can appreciate what a commercial risk he has taken in making these two albums, what is more striking is the sense of how imperative it has been for him to write and record these cathartic songs.
The sleeve notes confirm that it was an intensive process, which is, in itself, encouraging. How many other artists of Diamond's vintage still write in a way that actually costs them something? The results are disarming, with Diamond in emotionally resonant voice.
Home Before Dark is primarily an album about redemption and second chances, a theme eloquently expressed on his beautiful current single Pretty Amazing Grace. Diamond sings of a transforming personal salvation, using religious imagery that even echoes the words of the hymn Amazing Grace at one point, but still allows enough ambiguity for the listener to make of it what they will – is he talking about a higher power, a woman, or music? Or all three?
He makes similar parallels on a couple of other tracks, imbuing a relationship with a spiritual significance on Whose Hands Are These and The Power Of Two. The latter is melodically quite a rudimentary song, but Diamond carries it with sheer emotion.
The arrangements throughout are simple and sensitive, orbiting around guitar and piano. The album starts with just a strummed guitar and Diamond's unadorned voice. Although never wordy, he has a lot to say over the course of If I Don't See You Again – an indication that this album is not about instant gratification but steady contemplation.
He imparts his homespun wisdom on a couple of rootsy acoustic blues numbers. Don't Go There's "lesson in survival", concerning women on the prowl, features a playful, sardonic performance from Diamond who trawls the lowest part of his impressively deep vocal range for characterful effect. Slow It Down offers more sage advice from an oldtimer to "catch the sound of your heartbeat before it's leaving", while the loping country number Act Like A Man imparts some more of his songwriting experience.
Diamond lets his insecurities hang out on Forgotten, as he frets about obsolescence. But One More Bite Of The Apple provides the tonic. Adopting a gentle "take it from me" tone, he celebrates finding love the second time around, but also his continued vitality and relevance as a songwriter.
Not all his efforts are as distinguished. Another Day (That Time Forgot) is a disappointing, rather snoozy duet with Dixie Chick Natalie Maines that conveys little chemistry between the two singers and falls back on lyrical platitudes. No Words – a sort of commentary on the toil of lyric writing – turns out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, as Diamond repeatedly finds that he has "no words" to express his feelings, short of "one or two" which are "better felt than said".
However, he ends the album on a high note with the gorgeous front porch strum of the title track, which is bathed in quiet contentment conveyed with simple but evocative imagery – "I knew I'd get home before dark, cause of you I'd get home before dark".
How he factors this new time-worn dignity into an exuberant greatest hits set remains to be seen but, far from becoming a pensive pensioner, Diamond is currently revelling in a creative rebirth.
The full article contains 804 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
