12 Songs : Neil Diamond : Review : Rolling Stone

Before he conquered easy-listening radio and packed arenas with grandmas, Neil Diamond was a masterful pop rocker who could deliver soulful bubblegum like "Cherry, Cherry" and singer-songwriter angst like "Solitary Man" with equal conviction. This Brill Building graduate's appeal in the Sixties was so universal that R&B wailers, country crooners and Brit-pop stars all charted hits with his songs. Then, in the Seventies, he became a superstar concert attraction and sold his soul for melodramatic treacle -- cementing his mass following but robbing himself of the respect he once commanded.

Producer Rick Rubin helped reintroduce Johnny Cash to serious rock fans after years of similarly disregarded and inessential records, and here he attempts to do the same for Diamond. The stakes are higher: Well-chosen covers provided many of the peaks on Cash's Rubin-produced records, but Diamond's new one is entirely self-penned. Which makes 12 Songs all the more impressive: Aside from a rendition of "Delirious Love," rearranged with Brian Wilson to resemble a Beach Boys oldie, most cuts deliver striking somberness. They're performed primarily with guitars and keyboards, an occasional hint of bass or percussion and no drum kit. As on the Cash albums, Rubin backs his subject with talented rockers, including Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench from Tom Petty's Heartbreakers and organist Billy Preston.

The hushed 12 Songs isn't easy-listening: Diamond sings with a close-miked sincerity so disarming and lacking in his usual gruff bravado that it's almost refreshing when he lapses into overstatement. The album's bulk deals with a solitary man searching for profound love in his autumn years. He's as direct as he's ever been with his lyrics, which give them an extra poignancy: In the pained break-up ballad "Evermore," Diamond asks in a weary, world-worn voice, "Have we come this far to have gone astray/I've been lost before but not lost this way." Concluding on one track that "Men Are So Easy," Diamond pleads for mercy and understanding, attaining a simple profundity -- something that both hard-core rock fans and your great-aunt can understand.