At this very minute, Michael Bolton is singing “Georgia on My Mind” on the Leno Show, provoking this admission from moi: I like Bolton. I may be the only guy in America who dares utter this, but it’s true. More than not hate him, I like him.
Call Bolton the poor (white man’s) ripoff of Ray Charles, Percy Sledge, and Sam Cooke, if you will, but the guy can sing. Sure, he doesn’t belong in the pantheon of soul immortals, but he’s got decent chops.
Heard enough? No? Let’s talk Kenny G. As a jazz lover (Bird, Miles, Trane, Esquivel )I’ll admit that the G Man is no jazz master, but what’s wrong with instrumental pop, even if 70 percent of it sounds like it was commissioned by the Otis Elevator Co.? I wouldn’t be embarrassed to play it at a party.
This takes us to Neil Diamond. Yes, the man today warbles like a busted Victrolla, but back in the day he was pop’s answer to Ethel Merman. By that, I mean he was a showman first and singer second. Some of his classics really are classics.
I’d go on, but I think that’s a big enough jolt for the Board in one evening. My apologies to Ukelele Ike. Dis or confess your own guilty pleasures.
I’ll be right back–right after I cue … Gordon Lightfoot.
Bolton and Kenny G are excusable. No one expects them to be anything but what they are. I will never understand the love for Neil Diamond though. The man is a crime against the world of music.
I like disco, too (at least late '70s, early '80s “Saturday Night Fever”-era disco).
To complete my humiliation, I also like “My Heart Must Go On” by Celine Dion (though I don’t like anything else I’ve ever heard her do, so I guess maybe there might be hope for me).
I LOVE Neil Diamond. Not just his music either, I lust after him. Comb over, glittered shirts, semi lazy eye-that man is walking sex. I’m young enough to be his granddaughter.
I’ll be honest with you, I love his music, I do, I’m a Michael Bolton fan. For my money, it doesn’t get any better than when he sings “When a Man Loves a Woman”.
. . .looks around to see if anyone’s paying attention, scurries to the boombox and cues the cassette to play Michael Bolton’s song . .Time, Love and Tenderness.
Neil Diamond is a distinctive-but-not-great singer, and a brilliant songwriter. Granted, some of his later stuff is, uh, not of undiluted genius, but his earlier songs are like gems: “Solitary Man,” “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon,” “Cherry Cherry.” And I LOVE his cover of “Clouds”; I bought it on scratchy vinyl at an estate sale a while back.
(Mr. Blue Sky, not sure if that was a whoosh, but Lisa-go-Blind was quoting Office Space.)
)I’ll admit that the G Man is no jazz master, but what’s wrong with instrumental pop, even if 70 percent of it sounds like it was commissioned by the Otis Elevator Co.? I wouldn’t be embarrassed to play it at a party.
