“You’re So Sweet” is Neil Diamond’s wink in the middle of the show—a quick, affectionate tall tale that proves love can be tender even when it’s laughing.
There are Neil Diamond songs that arrive like monuments—big choruses, big statements, the kind of melodies that seem carved into the radio itself. And then there’s “You’re So Sweet”—the moment when he steps sideways, grins at the crowd, and reminds you that a great storyteller doesn’t always have to be solemn to be sincere.
Most people who know this piece know it the way it’s preserved on Hot August Night—that legendary live document recorded at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles on August 24, 1972, and released on December 9, 1972 by MCA Records. On the original 1972 track list, it flashes by in 2:17, tucked right after “Porcupine Pie,” almost like a mischievous aside before the bigger emotional waves roll in. And the album itself didn’t just do well—it became one of the defining live albums of its era, peaking at No. 5 on the US Billboard 200 and finishing No. 12 on Billboard’s 1973 year-end Billboard 200 album chart.
Now, here’s the secret that makes the Wiltern-sized smile spread across your face: “You’re So Sweet” is essentially the brisk live cousin of a longer, cheekier studio track with its full, unforgettable title—“You’re So Sweet, Horseflies Keep Hangin’ ’Round Your Face.” That original appeared on Diamond’s 1969 studio album Brother Love’s Travelling Salvation Show, released April 4, 1969, where it runs about 3:13 and leans more fully into the joke. It wasn’t released as a major chart single, so it doesn’t have a clean “debut position” to recite like “Sweet Caroline” does. Instead, it lives where plenty of beloved Diamond deep-cuts live: in the memory of listeners who cherish the personality behind the voice.
And personality is the whole point here. In the Hot August Night performance, you can hear how Diamond uses humor the way old radio hosts used it—an elbow-nudge that keeps the room warm. The song’s comedy isn’t cruel; it’s affectionate, almost homespun. The title itself tells you what kind of world you’re entering: a world of exaggerated compliments, country-fair imagery, and a kind of playful “American vernacular” that Diamond could wear convincingly without pretending he was born in it. It’s theatre—small theatre, the kind you can hold in one hand—performed by someone who understands that laughter can be a form of closeness.
What does it mean, beneath the grin? To me, “You’re So Sweet” is Diamond saying: sometimes love is not poetry written with a fountain pen—sometimes it’s a ridiculous compliment said out loud because you want the other person to laugh and stay. In that sense, it’s the same emotional engine that powers his bigger hits: the hunger to connect. He just chooses a different costume for it here—one stitched from tall tales and comic exaggeration.
And there’s another reason the live version matters. On Hot August Night, Diamond is not merely singing songs; he’s building a room. The Greek Theatre crowd is part of the instrumentation, the applause and laughter functioning like percussion. In a set that includes life-sized classics, “You’re So Sweet” acts like a palate cleanser—quick, bright, a reminder that even the most dramatic singers need a moment to breathe, and to let the audience breathe with them. The fact that he speeds through it is part of its charm: it’s a spark, not a bonfire.
So when you revisit “You’re So Sweet”—especially in that 1972 live snapshot—you don’t just hear a novelty tune. You hear Neil Diamond doing what great radio storytellers always do: shifting tone, keeping you close, letting joy share the same stage as longing. It’s a small song with a long aftertaste—the kind that leaves you smiling, and then, quietly, remembering who you used to be when a love song could also be a joke told softly into the night.