RAMBLIN ROUND: Harry Nilsson: One's no longer the loneliest number

Dec. 12—As a music listener who leans toward artists who write their own songs, I've always been interested in who the songwriter or songwriters are on recordings I like.

I've mentioned how, when I was a child, I learned the names written in parenthesis below the song titles on both 45 records and LP albums were those of the song's writer, or writers.

After awhile, I became familiar with many artists who wrote their own songs, at least most of the time. Sometimes I'd run a cross a recording by a gifted songwriter who recorded a song written by someone else, teaching me that even the best and most gifted of writers was always on the lookout for a great song, regardless of who wrote it.

Two of the first recordings of "Me and Bobby McGee" preceded the huge hit record by Janis Joplin — and both of the artists who recorded it were stalwart songwriters in their own right.

Roger Miller recorded "Me and Bobby McGee" in 1969 — two years before the 1971 posthumous by Janis shot to #1.

Those who heard Miller's recording could well have thought he'd written it himself. He'd already penned songs destined to become classics, such as "King of the Road," which, like "Me and Bobby MeGee," is a road song.

Another artist I admire,Gordon Lightfoot, included it as the one song he didn't write on his album, originally titled "Sit Down Young Stranger." He also knew a great song when he heard it, making room to include "Me and Bobby McGee" on an album otherwise filled with originals.

Kris Kristofferson, of course, wrote "Me and Bobby McGee" after record executive Fred Foster suggested the title, inspired by a secretary named Bobby McKee working on Nashville's Music Row. Kristofferson mistook her last name for McGee, but still gave Foster a co-writing credit.

Still, most singer-songwriters, then and now, primarily record songs they've written themselves.

I remember when I first heard the song titled "One," the first hit by the band Three Dog Night. I figured one of the three vocalists in the band — Chuck Negron, Cory Wells or Danny Hutton — must have written the song themselves. My money would have been of Danny Hutton, who was a friend of the Beach Boys' genius songwriter and producer, Brian Wilson.

I soon learned that "One" had been written by none of the above. Instead, It was written by a singer-songwriter named Harry Nilsson, who had included the song on his own debut album.

"Three Dog Night" did such an outstanding job with their version of "One" — with its sorrowful refrain of "One is the loneliest number —that they took it all the way to #1. I liked the song and Negron's vocal performance, so I decided to keep an eye out and ears open for this Nilsson guy. Since he'd already written such a great song, he might send more over the airwaves.

The first time I got to hear Nilsson sing came when he performed and recorded a song featured on the John Voight Dustin Hoffman film, "Midnight Cowboy." It broke out and became a hit on its own. Even today when I hear t "Everybody's Talkin' " I stop whatever I'm doing so I can take in Nilsson's soulful performance, while loving the lyrics as he sings "Everybody's talkin' at me; I don't hear a word they're saying, only the echoes of my mind."

I really liked the way Nilsson hit the low notes at the end of the line where he sings about going where the sun keeps shining, through the pouring rain, then soars into a falsetto at the end with "I won't let you leave my love behind.".

Naturally, I figured Nilsson had written the song, since I already knew him to be a talented songwriter, but when I checked the credits, I learned it had been written by Fred Neil, not Harry Nilsson.

Fred Neil,where had I ran across that name? I recalled he'd been one of the first friends among professional musicians a young Bob Dylan made when he blew into New York City's Greenwich Village. But I knew Neil best as the writer of "The Dolphins," an outstanding track on the album "Marrying Maiden" by the vastly-underrated San Francisco band It's a Beautiful Day.

OK, so Nilsson did a cover on that song, but a mighty one. I'd still be listening for his next one. It may not have chronologically been his next release, but Nilsson soon recorded another song that sped up the charts, the Beatles-sounding "Without You." Surely, he wrote that song.

Nope. "Without You" had been written by Pete Ham and Tom Evans and recorded by their band, Badfinger, and had been included on their album, but never released as a single. When Nilsson first heard it at a party in LA's Laurel Canyon, he mistakenly thought it was The Beatles, since the singer's voice and phrasing sounded a lot like John Lennon's.

Nilsson had good ears. Badfinger had recorded the song for The Beatles' Apple label. It also had been produced by their recording engineer of choice, Geoff Emerick and their longtime associate and road manager, Mal Evans.

Even though Nilsson hadn't written "Without You," he knew a good song when he heard it and recorded his own version, produced by Richard Perry, which kept those Lennon-like touches intact. As a result, lots of people who heard it also thought Nilsson's recording was by The Beatles.

Nilsson went on to have hit records he did write, including the reggae-influenced "Coconut," with its catchy refrain "Put de lime in de coconut." Lots of people must have thought about putting the lime in the coconut, because the record reached #8 on the charts.

He also wrote a concept album called "The Point," about a boy named Oblio with a round head, when everyone else's head is pointed, and his dog, Arrow. A song from the album, "Me and My Arrow," became another hit for Nilsson. "The Point" also became an animated TV special, voiced by Ringo Starr, with child actor Mike Lookinland, who would later play Bobby on "The Brady Bunch," voicing the part of Oblio.

Having Ringo narrate "The Point" would not be Nilsson's only connection with The Beatles. Both John Lennon and Paul McCartney called Nilsson their "favorite American group" back in 1968.

Nilsson is also credited with recording the first-ever mashup, with his version of Lennon's "You Can't Do That," which references 20 other Beatles songs.

He and Lennon became close friends and hung out together as LA nightclubs during a period from 1973-1975, when Lennon was separated from Yoko Ono. Lennon was producing Nilsson's album "Pussy Cats" at the time.

During one of their nightly outings, Lennon and Nilsson were bodily ejected from The Troubadour nightclub, when they persisted in drunkenly and loudly heckling the Smothers Brothers, who were performing onstage. Lennon later blamed his bad behavior on his inexperience with drinking Brandy Alexanders. He also good-naturedly said everyone else would try to rein him in when he started crossing the line, but Nilsson egged him on.

Nilsson died of heart failure when only 52, but his music lives on today. A double disc retrospective titled "Losst and Founnd" was finally released in 2019.

Also in 2019, Billboard reported his 1971 song "Gotta Get Up" from his album "Nilsson Schmilsson" surged nearly 2,500% in streams when played during the Netflix series "Russian Doll."

Not bad for a guy who saw his first major success come from a song named "One."