Super Diamond Article

A Diamond Is Forever
Super Diamond Capture The Enduring Appeal of Neil
Carl Swanson
Spin Magazine 12/2000

Randy Cordero has become a star impersonating Neil Diamond, and he's got the bag of bras to prove it. "Sometimes the stage is just the right height so the girls are at crotch level, and somebody grabs me right there," he says as he changes into one of his 25 custom-made spangled shirts, transforming himself from a somewhat diffident 34-year-old former engineer into Surreal Neil: retro-pop bra-target. Cordero and his tribute band Super Diamond are backstage at New York City's Irving Plaza getting ready to play the first of two headlining shows. "The girls feel they're in some kind of law-free sexual harassment zone," he adds. Or maybe they just think it's the '70s.

In any case, Super Diamond are superpopular. Thanks to a crowd-pleasing set list, constant weekend touring, and favorable buzz among Diamond maniacs, the band regularly fills 1,000-seat venues like L.A's House of Blues and Portland's Crystal Ballroom. "We played Boston last night, and they were turning people away," Cordero brags.

Thirty-four years after writing his first hit ("I'm a Believer"), the original Diamond is enjoying a resurgence, with several cover bands devoted to him and a February appearance in the upcoming movie Saving Silverman, in which Steve Zahn and Jack Black play members of...a Diamond cover band. "This is not a case of our ridiculing [Diamond] because he's past his prime," says Dennis Dugan, the film's director. "Neil is anything but past his prime."

A few years ago, a Neil Diamond tribute would have been merely an ironic novelty. Something for the hipsters to wink at but not truly embrace as cool. When Cordero first formed Super Diamond in San Francisco in 1993, the band attracted "the goth crowd-pierced and tattooed kids," Cordero says. "Now it's the Ford Explorer crowd," he adds wryly.

This is evident as hundreds of post-frat young professionals-still dressed for casual Friday in their belted khakis-fill Irving Plaza. "We like Neil Diamond and thought it would be hilarious to see a cover band," says Amy, 26. "The music bridges the gap between me and my parents."

"You'd think people would come for the kitsch, but they come for more than that," insists bassist Matt Tidmarsh, who has upholstered himself in a pair of leopard-print-trim bell-bottoms. "The music just holds up well. It's classic," Cordero says.

Onstage, Cordero launches into "Love on the Rocks"--his voice an uncanny imitation of Diamond's. Several girls scramble onstage, cashmere sweaters tied around their shoulders, giggling and attempting a rendition of the dance they learned from the "Back That Thang Up" video.

"How many people have moms who like Neil Diamond?" asks Tidmarsh. "This one's for all the mothers." As "Sweet Caroline" begins, crowd collectively hoists its Heineken cans in air. The bouncer kicks the girls offstage, Cordero dismisses them, patting one uncomfortably on the shoulder like a vice principal. He performs "Hello Again" on his knees, holding a woman's hand in the front row.

So what does Neil Diamond think of his namesake? Apparently, he's never seen them, though his kids and girlfriend have. Cordero claims Diamond once said, "I sent them out to work years ago so I wouldn't have to." But making your Iiving as one of Neil Diamond's flying monkeys seems to have made the band a bit defensive. "On the one hand, you're a star," Tidmarsh says. "On the other, you're the shit of the earth."