The title cut from Lana Del Rey’s upcoming album, featured yesterday, includes this verse:
“Harry Nilsson has a song, his voice breaks at 2:05 / Something about the way he says “Don’t forget me” makes me feel like / I just wish I had a friend like him, someone to get me by / Lennon in the back, whisperin’ in my ear / “Come on, baby, you can thrive” / But I can’t”
The song she’s referencing is Nilsson’s ‘Don’t Forget Me,’ which appeared on the John Lennon-produced 1974 album Pussy Cats.
This is the second appearance of ‘The Beehive State’ on the blog. The first was by the song’s writer, Randy Newman, and was posted without comment during a week when my family was on vacation in Utah.
Today’s version is from Harry Nilsson’s 1970 album Nilsson Sings Newman, which found the successful singer-songwriter covering songs by a then relatively unknown Randy Newman.
Here’s a delightful track from Harry Nilsson, from his 1972 album Son of Schmilsson. This album was the follow-up to 1971’s Nilsson Schmilsson, his most successful release.
While the former album contained a few hits (including ‘Coconut’ and ‘Without You’), this one was a bit more eccentric and produced just one single (‘Spaceman’).
Harry Nilsson’s Son of Schmilsson was released in 1972, a follow-up to the prior year’s Nilsson Schmilsson, his biggest commercial hit. This album was more experimental and risky than its predecessor.
A case in point is today’s jaunty SOTD, ‘You’re Breakin’ My Heart,’ which could have been a hit had it not opened with the lines “You’re breaking my heart, you’re tearing it apart, so fuck you.” Nearly 40 years later, in a much different era, Cee-Lo Green found success with a similar sentiment.
Before I get to my random SOTD, let me wish a Happy Father’s Day to my dear father and to all fathers across the land.
Harry Nilsson was a moderately successful singer-songwriter with five studio albums under his belt in 1970, when he decided to record an album of songs written by Randy Newman.
At the time, Newman was a prolific writer of songs for other people but had released only one album — a major flop — under his own name. He was nothing close to a household name, which made Nilsson Sings Newman a bizarre detour for the ascendant Nilsson.
Meet Me In Montauk 