By the end of the ’70s, Harry Nilsson (like his drinkin’ bud Alice Cooper) was becoming a sort of swollen-livered Norma Desmond, lost to mainstream tastes that mostly favored sellout soul, corporate rock, and, to a lesser degree, some good post-punk shit. More, conventional music-critic wisdom (yawn) has long said that Nilsson’s famously blown voice ruined his […]