Introduction:
In a captivating episode of LWT’s One-to-One, music legend Neil Diamond offers an honest and reflective look into the early days of his journey—a journey that began not in concert halls, but in the fencing halls of New York University. On a scholarship for fencing and with plans to study medicine, few could have predicted that Neil Diamond would one day become one of the most enduring voices in American music. But, as he confesses with quiet candor, songwriting became a calling he simply couldn’t ignore.
Diamond began composing songs at the age of 17. Though he admits they were “universally pretty bad,” they held something sacred to him at the time—a melody, a form, an attempt at beauty. Even then, he was captivated by the process, drawn more to the act of writing than to the academic path he was officially pursuing. With little money and a lot of hope, he sold songs for a mere hundred dollars and lived week to week on that modest income. He didn’t see himself as a singer, let alone a performer. His dream was simple and grounded: to be a songwriter and to lift himself out of poverty.
But fate had other plans. After being let go from a staff writing job, an unexpected opportunity came when Ellie Greenwich and Jeff Barry, famed for their work with Phil Spector and others, offered to produce him. That collaboration led to his first real hit—Solitary Man—a breakthrough that put his name on the charts. Soon after came Cherry Cherry, followed by I’m a Believer, a song he originally wrote for himself but which exploded into pop history through The Monkees’ version. Within a short span, Diamond had multiple chart-topping records, and a once-fledgling songwriter was now a household name.
Yet Neil Diamond’s ambitions didn’t stop at catchy three-minute singles. With albums like Taproot Manuscript, he explored uncharted musical territory, incorporating African rhythms, choirs, and orchestral textures. This experimental spirit reached full bloom with later works like Jonathan Livingston Seagull and The Jazz Singer, allowing him to stretch creatively in ways he never imagined when he wrote his first song, Hear Them Bells, for his teenage girlfriend—who later became his first wife.
One particularly revealing moment came from failure. A screen test for a film about Lenny Bruce left Diamond feeling defeated. But from that disappointment came I Am… I Said, one of his most personal and powerful songs, written in solitude and sorrow during a lunch break with guitar in hand. It became less a song than a soul-searching journey—evidence of the deep emotional wellspring that has always powered his music.
Today, with the release of Greatest Hits 1966–1992, Diamond reflects on a legacy built not only on fame, but on persistence, craft, and sincerity. Choosing tracks for the album was a matter of statistics—chart success guided the selection. But selecting songs for live concerts is a different challenge. Even in two-and-a-half-hour shows, beloved hits are inevitably left out. “The audience will tell you what they want to hear,” he says, acknowledging the dynamic relationship he’s built over decades with fans across the globe.
From humble beginnings to iconic status, Neil Diamond’s story isn’t just about hits—it’s about heart. And that’s what makes him, undeniably, one of the most resonant voices in modern music.