Last night Neil Diamond and his band came to the Rose City for a stop on Diamond’s 50th anniversary tour. It was a whirlwind through the singer/songwriter’s extensive catalog, with a focus on the big hits and a few deep cuts for good measure. It wouldn’t be a Neil Diamond show without an extended sing-along “Sweet Caroline”—which Diamond and crew encored in the literal definition, playing the second half of the song again after completing the first complete go-through. But there were also some deep cuts, with lesser-known album tracks from 1976’s Beautiful Noise and 1979’s September Morn accompanying the radio standards.

The show moved rapidly through its paces, with songs kept to three or four minutes apiece rather than offering stretched-out live versions as one might expect (the double dip of “Sweet Caroline” notwithstanding). This kept the setlist packed with as many songs as possible, and the show moved through various stages in Diamond’s career swiftly, beginning with a too-brief survey of his marvelous inaugural phase as a recording artist, the Bang Records years of 1966-67, and concluding the main set with a snapshot of tracks from his first monster album, 1972’s double live set Hot August Night.

Seeing a performer this late in their career is a double-edged sword. The vitality and spontaneity of youth are, naturally, long gone at this point in Diamond’s career—although it should be noted that Diamond was as well rehearsed as I’ve ever seen a legacy arena act, moving across the front of the stage with no monitors to hide behind and no teleprompter to give him cues. (Sorry kids, but even Springsteen uses a teleprompter these days.) And with that came a level of consistency and familiarity with the material, as well as the ability to cherry-pick from his extensive back catalog without also needing to work a batch of new tunes for the crowd. (Only two songs on the setlist, “Pretty Amazing Grace” and a Diamond-less band vamp on “In My Lifetime” that opened the show, dated from after 1980’s The Jazz Singer.)

And Diamond remains in startlingly good voice, perhaps sounding even better than he did even a few years ago. The now-bearded performer has forgone the shiny beaded shirts in favor of a muted black ensemble, and looks fantastically good for his 76 years. Although his sauntering from stage left to stage right could be stiff and slow at times, it’s worth remembering that this is a man who’s on his feet for 140 minutes each night. For their part, the mostly elderly crowd generally kept to their seats, although a few uptempo tunes required everyone to stand. There were a few doofy cheeseball moments, to be sure—such as the band’s Vegas-reggae rendition of UB40’s rendition of Diamond’s country weeper “Red Red Wine,” or the New Age-y pronouncements Diamond made in between sections of the Jonathan Livingston Seagull medley. But for every one of those came an opportunity to see indelible ‘60s pop nuggets like “You Got to Me” and “Brooklyn Roads” performed by the man responsible for them. Diamond's legacy, once overlooked by the critical establishment, is settling into its deserved place as one of the finest 20th-century American songbooks, and this might very well be the last time Portland gets to see him in the flesh. If that turns out to be the case, it was a worthy farewell. I can’t really put it any better than the beaming, grandmother-aged woman I overheard joyfully telling her concert companions as the crowd exited the Moda Center: “Well, that was wonderful.”