The 5 Best Neil Diamond Songs That Aren't Sweet Caroline

Singing along to "Sweet Caroline," the perfect rock song weddings ruined, is the musical equivalent of doing the wave or bouncing a beach ball around at a baseball game; you do it because everyone else is doing it, not because you really love what's happening. It may fool you into thinking Neil Diamond peaked with this 1969 cooker, but the Diamond canon holds much tastier treasures. This is a powerhouse artist who dropped golden audio bombs for the better part of 60 years, who crashed the jangly music scene of the '60s with a beat poet's soul and the most glorious hair this side of a Prell commercial. If you're too young to remember Prell, you probably don't know the best songs in the Neil Diamond catalog, either. It's time for a little musical schooling.

We like to dig deeper than the common jukebox songs everyone loves, into the trove of Neil Diamond songs that may be underrated but are still total gems. Our favorite songs are thoughtful and well written, yet still catchy enough to make you forget all about that featherweight "Forever in Blue Jeans" and "Heartlight" nonsense from his '80s descent into near-self-satire. We're talking sturdy folk, hearty rock, and solid pop creations that show off his talent for self-reflection and melodic brilliance — the same skills used to make "Sweet Caroline" such a bop, but put to much better use, in our not-unbiased opinion. In other words: We're going for the great stuff here.

Ah, the song that started the Neil Diamond movement! It may be one of the most earnest songs he ever offered the world, and why wouldn't it be? He was a young buck joining the world of the singer-songwriter in the mid-'60s, showing off his talent for self awareness while playing the sensitive musical stud who feels deeply. It's a dated trope now, but back in the day, Diamond really captured something authentic about the coming-of-age of an American dude from Gen B, better known as the Boomer Crew.

"Solitary Man" rolls out the tale of a loner who loves too deeply and yet can't love quite enough to commit properly. This unlucky sot keeps canoodling with women who either cheat or don't match his ardent vibe. He knows what he wants and how much he's willing to give to the right one, but he's been burned enough times to know that his heart is better off protected until the right one comes along. Woof. That's some serious soul-searching for a romantic to commit to music, especially in an era of flimsy pop love songs that made romance sound like a lark and not a spiritual commitment.

Yes, early Diamond was a deep guy who wasn't willing to settle. This moody rocker of a debut single set the tone for his knack for storytelling, with a melody you could really sing along to.

Has a sensual encounter between two star-crossed lovers ever been as poetic as this? "Longfellow Serenade" showed off the literary side of Neil Diamond's writing abilities, creating poetry you can sing along to with a tingle-inducing story of a young man pitching woo via classic verse. It's a tribute to the song's poet namesake, a beach-read romance, and a coming-of-age movie all woven together with characteristic Neil Diamond sorcery.

The verses feel like a triumphant connection is being made by the young man to a woman who seems so far out of his league, he has to depend on "a stolen kiss" to warm his heart. The pre-chorus raises the stakes with its "Ride, come on baby, ride," which sounds like both a saucy innuendo and a serious invitation to run away with her suitor. And then, the chorus bounces in with some of the most rhythmically challenging lines a pop song has ever put forth. "I'll weave his web of rhyme / Upon the summer night / We'll leave this worldly time / On his winged flight / Then come, and as we lay / Beside this sleepy glade / There I will sing to you / My Longfellow serenade." How's that for poetic romance?

Alas, the final verse reveals that no amount of flowery rhyme can erase the differences between these two ill-fated lovers. Though they shared but a single night together, an eternity together wasn't in the cards. Poor Neil ... back on the search for love yet again. But what a song he got out of it.

We can't forget about Neil Diamond, musical philosopher, as we roll out our favorite five. "I Am... I Said" is as contemplative a pop song as has ever been created, full of cosmic questioning and yearning for understanding. It's a moment of realization that gives a peek behind the velvet curtain of stardom, showing how conflicted the superstar was by the seismic life shift of becoming famous and how it isn't all it's cracked up to be. Neil Diamond's massive net worth may show his willingness to play along with the fame game, but that doesn't mean it was a total joyride.

The lyrics describe Diamond's change of environment when he relocated from his native Brooklyn home to the golden shores of California to shake the money tree and sell his music on a more massive scale. But the wayward wanderer has realized he may not belong in either world anymore; he's been too long from Brooklyn for it to feel like home now, but LA isn't exactly his dream spot, either. The loneliness reached a pitch in the chorus: "I am, I said / To no one there / And no one heard at all / Not even the chair." Ouch, Neil. Ouch indeed.

"Nowadays, I'm lost between two shores" is a perfect encapsulation of the sacrifices Diamond made in the name of art and riches. You can't help feeling bad for the guy, regardless of his wild success, including this top-five hit.

Add a little country-adjacent jangle to the Neil Diamond formula for musical gems and you get the bouncy hit "Kentucky Woman." It's another Diamond love song, though a super-simple set-up about how much he loves his Southern sweetheart. Rather than diving guitar-first into a Southern musical idiom, the Brooklyn boy kept things squarely in folk-pop territory and came up with an easygoing charmer that knocks our socks off.

But this isn't just a fluff ball from the heap of catchy '60s tunes extolling the heart-swelling virtues of love. It's also a joyful reminder that even when he was at his least literary, Diamond was a writer of many moods and modes, who unleashed musical fire designed to captivate. The mere thought of being in love with his Kentucky woman is enough to inspire a rollicking ode about just how deep he's fallen. "I don't want much," he muses, "The good Lord's earth beneath my feet / A gentle touch / From that one girl / And life is / Sweet and good." Yeah ... Neil knows the recipe for happiness.

Even in its simplicity, this song is far from basic; the syncopated delivery of "Kentucky wo-MAN" is a sophisticated hook that helps the song get stuck in your head. Even when you don't realize it's happening, Diamond's songwriting is drawing you in and taking you where he wants you to go. He's a modern Pied Piper, a devious musical genius in a sparkly polyester shirt mesmerizing you into singing along, and he knows exactly what he's doing. It's Diamond-bolical!

This is pinnacle Neil Diamond emotional wizardry, a song that puts his whole bag of tricks on display at the same time. The sorrow! The romance! The swelling chorus! Sure, it's about a long-ago love affair, but the existential message about how every good thing in life dissolves into a memory eventually is even more resonant here. Keep the Kleenex nearby; you're going to need them.

It's a bittersweet set-up, with Diamond settling into the peace of the returning night with a smoke and a drink as the memories of a long-ago love come rushing back. Then, he jumps into total recall mode: "Do you hear it, babe? / It was another time / It was another place / Do you remember it, babe?" Good golly, he's really going for the gold here, summoning the joy of times long gone, as if the memory alone has enough spark to reignite the past. And when the lines "It's hard to hold them in our arms again / But hard to let them go" hit, you can't help but thinking of all the things you didn't realize you loved until they were gone. And the waterworks begin...

Just when you start crying into your beer, the refrain kicks in, and you're singing along through the tears like you're in a pub with your crew reliving the good times together. Suddenly, you know it's all going to be okay. And then, you play it again.