Neil Diamond has never been a conventional love-song writer. He didn’t idealize romance or paint love as flawless and eternal. Instead, he treated love as something learned over time—through mistakes, heartbreak, and reflection. “The Art Of Love” perfectly captures that perspective.
The song belongs to a later, more reflective period in Neil Diamond’s life, after multiple marriages and deeply personal experiences with love and loss. There’s no dramatic climax, no grand declaration. Instead, the song unfolds quietly, almost conversationally, carrying the weight of lived experience rather than youthful passion.
At first glance, the title can be misleading. “The Art Of Love” sounds like a romantic anthem, perhaps even a celebration of love. But as the lyrics unfold, it becomes clear that this isn’t a song about being in love—it’s about learning how to love. And learning, as Neil Diamond suggests, often comes from getting it wrong.
The song feels like an internal dialogue. Diamond doesn’t sing to a lover; he sings to himself. He acknowledges that love isn’t an instinct we master naturally, but a skill shaped by patience, humility, and understanding. In this song, love is not defined by roses or promises, but by listening, restraint, and emotional growth.
By this stage of his career, Neil Diamond was no longer chasing chart success. He was writing for people who had lived—those who had loved deeply, failed painfully, and still believed love was worth understanding. That’s why The Art Of Love resonates so strongly with mature listeners rather than younger audiences.
The lyric video reinforces that intimacy. Without elaborate visuals or spectacle, the focus stays on the words themselves. The listener is invited not just to hear the song, but to read it—and reflect on it. It’s a song that doesn’t overwhelm you instantly, but slowly settles into your thoughts.
For longtime fans, The Art Of Love feels like a quiet confession. Neil Diamond seems to admit that he didn’t always know how to love well, that he made mistakes, and that understanding came late. Yet the song isn’t regretful or bitter. Instead, it’s calm, accepting—spoken by someone who has finally learned his lesson.
That may be why the song never became a major hit. It wasn’t designed to impress or entertain loudly. It was designed to be honest. And in that honesty, The Art Of Love stands as one of Neil Diamond’s most quietly profound works—a song for those who understand that love, like any art, takes a lifetime to learn.