Neil Diamond’s career has been defined by unforgettable melodies—songs like Sweet Caroline, Cracklin’ Rosie, and Song Sung Blue have become fixtures of pop culture. But amid his decades of success, Diamond once faced a serious challenge to his artistry: a lawsuit that accused him of copying the sound of an earlier ’60s hit. For an artist who prided himself on originality, the controversy was both embarrassing and career-threatening.
The case centered around Diamond’s song Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon, released in 1967. The track, with its moody chord progression and urgent vocals, quickly climbed the charts and became a signature piece of his early career. Yet within months of its success, whispers began to circulate that it bore striking similarities to another tune from the same decade. The accusation: that Diamond had lifted too much from an already-established hit, blurring the line between inspiration and imitation.
By the early 1970s, the claims escalated into a formal lawsuit. Music publishers representing the earlier work alleged that Diamond’s composition was “substantially similar” in both melody and phrasing, arguing that his rising fame had come at the expense of another songwriter’s creativity. Critics at the time fanned the flames, with some columnists suggesting Diamond’s meteoric rise was built on shaky ground.
For Diamond, who had written hits for other performers before stepping into the spotlight himself, the lawsuit struck at the heart of his reputation. He publicly denied any intentional copying, insisting that Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon was an original work drawn from his own creative well. “I’ve always been inspired by the music around me,” he told an interviewer, “but my songs are my own voice.”
The courtroom battle dragged on, with expert witnesses brought in to analyze sheet music, chord structures, and lyrical phrasing. Such disputes were becoming increasingly common in the music industry, as the explosion of rock, pop, and soul in the ’60s led to inevitable overlaps in style. Ultimately, the case was settled out of court, with undisclosed terms. While Diamond avoided a damaging judgment, the episode left a mark, reminding him—and his peers—how precarious originality could be in a crowded musical landscape.
In hindsight, the controversy barely slowed Diamond’s momentum. He went on to dominate the 1970s with a string of chart-toppers and sold-out tours, eventually cementing his place as one of America’s most beloved singer-songwriters. Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon even enjoyed a revival in the 1990s after appearing in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, performed by Urge Overkill.
Still, the lawsuit remains a fascinating footnote in his career—a reminder that even icons are not immune to questions of originality. In an era when music plagiarism lawsuits are more common than ever, Diamond’s brush with the courts feels surprisingly modern. For fans, it’s proof that behind the glittering success of a legend lies the messy, complicated business of art, law, and influence.