Harry Nilsson is one of the great two-tiered artists in American pop: a musician whose biggest hits are widely known and generally well-liked, but who’s even more adored by music buffs who’ve taken the time to dig deeper than “One,” “Coconut,” and Nilsson’s smash covers of “Without You” and “Everybody’s Talkin’.” Born into poverty, Nilsson developed a knack for entertaining himself and hustling to get by, and when he moved to Los Angeles in the late ’50s, he lied his way into a job at a bank at the same time that he was schlepping his songs around town. He didn’t carry himself like a rock star—he was gawky and nerdy, and as interested in creaky old pop songs as he was in the latest fads—but he had an unparalleled sense of melody and an effortlessly angelic voice. Plus he was an inveterate wise-ass, always sending up himself, the culture, and every notion of showbiz propriety. In an era of inventive, knowledgeable songwriters like Brian Wilson, John Lennon, Van Dyke Parks, and Randy Newman, Nilsson became the musician’s musician, admired for his crazy arrangements and his insistence on satisfying his own muse before making his record label happy. He was also everybody’s favorite drinking buddy, which was his ultimate undoing.