Ramsayings

Just watched this doc­u­men­tary. Only a hand­ful of artists meet a tragic end like this, where their fame endures long after their tal­ent burns out. My old boss at TLA Video, Adrian Hick­man, used to play Nils­son often at the store. I didn’t have an ear for it then, but lis­ten­ing to his voice com­pletely blew me away. Nils­son wasn’t just a great pop singer/songwriter; the guy was an auteur like Orson Welles, craft­ing a work so dense and poetic only to have it undo him.

My favorite part of the doc­u­men­tary? See­ing Nils­son at the height of his fame, par­ty­ing with the Bea­t­les and Elton John. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a photo mon­tage as thrilling, laugh­ing mani­a­cally at pho­tos that would make fans of The Hang­over blanch. Watch­ing inter­views with guys like Brian Wil­son and Van Dyke Parks gave me a sense that Nils­son wasn’t just some maudlin pop singer, but a guy who was liv­ing every moment to the fullest. Equally impor­tant, he set lofty goals and achieved them. He did it all. He did it fast.

Maybe it’s because I’m get­ting older, but artists like Harry Nils­son appeal to me more now, just as I find myself appre­ci­at­ing vet­eran ballplay­ers who are still giv­ing it a go long after they’ve been writ­ten off by con­ven­tional wis­dom. Makes you won­der how any artist made it through the ‘70s alive. Didn’t mat­ter if you were punk or posh, chances are you were doing things that did con­sid­er­able harm to your person.

Come clean and admit your favorite ‘70s rock­ers here. And, yes, you can like the Adverts and X-Ray Spex and still be totally smit­ten with Elton John.