Rumours (1977) - Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac is a band that has always been marked by turmoil, with the group recording over eighteen albums with nearly every other record boasting a significantly different line up. Only bassist John McVie and drummer Mick Fleetwood, for whom the band is named, have played with the group consistently from their beginnings as a 60s era English blues band (more like Cream and Led Zeppelin than the acoustic pop rock they’d become famous for) to their last studio album in 2003 where they had transformed into the pop-rock-folk act we know and love. While so many talents have passed through Fleetwood Mac, they will always be remembered for the inimitable five piece line up that brought them both major chart success and critical acclaim from the mid 70s through the mid 80s with the songwriting trio of Stevie Nicks, Lindsey Buckingham and Christine McVie penning and performing some of the decade’s most enduring pop music. So, by 1977, turbulence was no stranger to the band, but arguably their most significant shake up was the one that shaped this record with the dual romantic breakups of Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham and Christine and John McVie who were in the midst of an acrimonious divorce, both splitting up after their last album Fleetwood Mac (1975). With all that personal drama, and more (the brief and secret passionate affair between Fleetwood and Nicks, McVie seeing the band’s lighting designer and lots and lots of cocaine use), the tensions were high, and to any reasonable person it would seem like the group was primed for a meltdown,. However, remarkably, instead of completely falling apart, it inspired the group to pen their most wickedly cutting, yet memorable tunes. The pain informed their writing and performing in a way that electrified them to create the best work of their career. No one could bear to be in the same room together, with every member recording their parts separately, but that didn’t stop them from creating the work that they would be judged by for the rest of their career.

Break up albums are a tricky proposition, they can come off in a myriad of ways that can be unpleasant to experience, but here Fleetwood Mac coats the anger, frustration, sadness, bitterness and all other emotions in some of the sharpest pop writing to ever hit the charts. However, more important than all of that is how the group has three distinct songwriters and performers in order to make the piece feel well rounded. The main flaw in most break up albums is that you only hear the story from one, wildly biased, flawed perspective, but here you get both Nicks and Buckingham to tell their side of the story, and McVie to lighten up affairs when they become too dark. That balance is the album’s secret weapon, which makes it not only listenable, but addictive. Each writer has their own unique voice. Lindsey Buckingham grounds the record with his crunchy guitar centric rockers and his folk-tinged acoustic finger-picked melodies that convey his angst and strife, feeling adrift and cynical. On the other hand, Stevie Nicks provides her own dreamy compositions that sound like no one else could have written them, with haunting melodies and her distinctive crooning, witchy vocal mannerisms making the tunes soar. Her mysticism and Buckingham’s bite are perfectly paired with McVie's light, piano pop wonders, which add some lightness to the record when needed, but can also provide some of the album’s deepest felt sadness when she so desires. Every track has a unique identity with the distinct imprint of its writer.

The album kicks off, much like their previous LP, with a breezy guitar-driven rocker from Lindsey Buckingham, the jubilant “Second Hand News” packing a real melodic punch with its sun-drenched harmonies and chugging, bouncy guitar riff. However, while the song radiates Buckingham’s unique brand of West Coast rootsiness and charm it masks the morose lyrics about Buckingham finding out that someone else has taken his place in his ex girlfriend's life. The song masterfully builds to an emotional climax with Buckingham’s screaming guitar solo pairing brilliantly with his anguished cries of being “Second Hand News”. Even the wordless choruses between his terse, angry verses, completely made up of goofy scat singing over the acoustic bounce feels emotionally resonant, as well as just being so much fun to sing along with. The song is a dazzling opener, setting the tone for the record both musically and lyrically, creating the unique dichotomy between the record’s effervescent pop melodies and crunchy rock instrumentation with its heavy, personal lyrical concerns. The contrast makes these harsh meditations on love and relationships go down so much easier with their bright sheen, which never feels artificial. The balance and contrast is what makes the album so juicy to digest. Buckingham delivers another guitar-driven gem with the album’s briefest piece, “Never Going Back Again” grounded by a country-inflected finger picked guitar figure over which Buckingham laments the end of his relationship. He vigorously swears off long term love affairs for good with his pained vocals on the chorus. Again, Buckingham’s almost tortured delivery is brilliantly offset with the simply sweet backing harmonies from the rest of the group. The song is so spare and short that it delivers the record’s most concise gut punch in barely two minutes. Both of these songs are lesser tracks on the album, but not because they are anything less than great, in fact they would rank among two of the best tracks on literally any other Fleetwood Mac album, but because they lack the sweeping, anthemic nature of the record’s biggest hits. That’s how stacked this track list is.

Buckingham’s greatest contribution to the record happens to be the devastating kiss off track “Go Your Own Way”, the record’s most impactful rock and roll moment, driven by Buckingham’s blistering guitar work with two dazzling, visceral solos. The rhythm section delivers their own ballsy, throbbing groove that gives the song such a fantastic sense of tension in the verses that just explodes on those sing along chorus hooks which are built for car ride singalongs. The song’s choruses are so joyous and freeing, with Buckingham singing his heart out over harmonies that would make The Mamas and The Papas jealous The delicious contrast comes in the verses, which feature some of Buckingham’s most razor sharp writing, penning a rough takedown of how Stevie Nicks handled the end of their relationship, with the chorus even poking fun at her air of mysticism (the “call it another lonely day” line always rubbed her the wrong way the most). Yet Buckingham sells all of his vitriol and anger because it comes from a place that is real and honest, and it sure helps that he writes these lines and insults into what can only be described as the most euphoric rock song of the late 70s. The song closes with a blistering, stinging guitar solo unlike anything else in the band’s repertoire, it could be said that this is their hardest rock song to date. No song has ever been both so life affirming and so sad, if you pay close attention. While the chorus may seem to be a call to move forward, Buckingham pens one of the album’s saddest songs, with its lyrics painting a picture of two people who desperately want to love each other, but can’t because they’re only hurting themselves in the process. A rock masterpiece.

While Buckingham’s best song is callous and cruel in places, Stevie Nicks’ best piece is like its twin flame, a rewrite of “Go Your Own Way”, but from her perspective, everything that Lindsey’s song wasn’t, hers is. “Dreams”, Fleetwood Mac’s only #1 single, is that song, and the second piece that truly grounds the A side of the record. Instrumentally it thrives on its plush, dreamy groove laid down by Fleetwood and McVie, feeling almost disco-adjacent with its rolling drum fills and heavy, thrumming bass line but when paired with Buckingham’s elegiac, country tinged guitar work it transforms into a perfect pop song, one that sounds like nothing else in 1977 or any other year. It epitomizes Nicks in the same way “Go Your Own Way” epitomizes Buckingham, when he goes low, she goes high. Nicks considers this song to be her response to Buckingham’s, where she wanted to take the high road and not take shots at him (though getting him to sing back up on this song was enough of a gut punch, I’m sure). Her side of the story is much more existential and coated in mysticism, but it is just as devastating in places, taking Buckingham to task for leaving her but also self-deprecating in the process, creating her most rawly emotional lyrics on the LP. Nicks’ vocals on the song are expressive and stellar, with her drifts into falsetto sounding clear as a bell. The song is sung with such ease and charm but passion that you can truly internalize the heartbreak. Nicks also doesn’t mask the humor of the song either, with the first verse in particular playing like a joke on Buckingham, but it is written so poetically that it never feels too cruel and callous. The instrumental part is enthralling, particularly in the wordless bridge, which communicates so much heartbreak while saying nothing at all. While the chorus is a mix of platitudes and warnings, it might be the most clear cut piece she’s ever written and that chorus is an absolute masterclass in hook writing, with every inch of this song lodging itself in the brain after even just a single listen. This song is honestly difficult to write about, it’s one of those tunes that’s just so basically perfect that it’s almost boring to discuss. You know it, you love it, it’s one of the best ever #1 hits in Billboard history. Nicks has written other great songs, but this will forever be her ultimate masterpiece. One of the most emotionally resonant and moving pop songs ever written.

Nicks only contributes one other solo song on the record, with the haunted ballad “Gold Dust Woman”, a harrowing song that functions both as an elegy to lost love filled with bitterness and regret as well as a way of examining how her heartbreak is deeply entwined with her burgeoning drug problem, with the titular character possibly being an allusion to cocaine. The song is so uniquely Stevie Nicks that it almost evades genre, with the guitar giving it a distinctly country flavor but with an enrapturing mysticism that cloaks so much of Nicks’ classic material. The vocal melodies wrap themselves around you devilishly, with her pointed, accusatory chorus, most likely directed at her own naivete about being vulnerable in relationships and that she much rather would stay alone is one of the album’s most vicious passages due to its lyrical ferocity. While the music is some of the record’s most ambitious, it all is just a backdrop for Stevie’s star making vocal performance, delivering a haunted but defiant quality she’s never quite come close to reaching again. The pain and hurt in her voice radiates to such an extent that it sends shivers down your spine. It builds to a quavering, well earned climax by the end of its five minute runtime with Buckingham’s stinging guitar licks, the band’s swirling harmonies and Stevie Nicks delivering fierce ad-libs, full of pain and anguish. It is a perfect companion piece to the bookending guitar solo that closed “Second Hand News”. The album is shaped by pain and loss, particularly between the twin flames of Buckingham and Nicks, but the secret ingredient that makes the record soar is the addition of Christine McVie, the record’s glue.

Christine McVie delivers three individual compositions here, all feeling unique. She brilliantly closes side one with the writerly, somber piano ballad “Songbird”, a stark, stripped down departure from the rest of the first side’s exhilarating pop rock. McVie’s piano work is absolutely stunning with the way she makes simple flourishes feel so warm and inviting, but her vocal is what makes the track soar. The song is so nakedly emotional and confessional that it would be difficult to listen to if it wasn’t sung by McVie’s gorgeous, clear as a bell alto voice that lends the tune a sense of melancholy but also some uplift, considering that McVie has the warmest, most inviting voice of the three performers. The verses possess some of the most down to earth musings on the album with McVie resigned to let her old partner flourish in love and that she will remain lonely even though she still loves him. The chorus hook here might be the album’s most brilliant hook, with the turn of phrase “And the songbirds are singing like they know the score” being so full of multiple interpretations that it is impossible to overstate its excellence. The song is the simplest of any here, just McVie singing at her piano, but it stands the test of time, being the unsung gem of the record.

On the other hand, McVie also delivers the groovy pop classic “You Make Loving Fun”, another number that spotlights the band’s unbeatable rhythm section with John McVie and Mick Fleetwood completely locking in to deliver a slow, but steady groove that bridges light dance floor oriented disco with more traditional pop writing. For the first and possibly only time, Buckingham turns in a performance that could be called funky but still packing a rock edge with his fills and McVie’s own piano work feels heavily inspired by the quirky clavinet funk of Stevie Wonder than her usual material. That groove is the centerpiece of the track, but McVie delivers spellbinding melodies on top of melodies with the verses feeling as if they could be hooks in a lesser song, but the chorus, with its harmony drenched backing vocals of swirling, magical oohs and aahs, lends the song an almost ethereal quality. It is almost as if McVie is writing a Stevie Nicks song, but eschews mysticism for a good old fashioned love song and it proves to be one of her stickiest, most enduring pop gems. A joyful song on an album full of heartbreak and hurt, the perfect counterpoint. McVie’s final solo contribution comes in the form of the album’s lone weak spot, the skippable “Oh Daddy” with its synth keyboards melding surprisingly well with Buckingham’s haunted folk guitar riff, but it is brought down by McVie’s belabored lyrics with her being so apologetic to her lover that its suppliant nature feels really out of place with the rest of the album’s defiant tone. It is also the only song that lacks any real substantive hooks, and while the chorus strives to make an impression with its off-kilter harmonies and almost sultry performance from McVie, it is inevitably the only song that doesn’t quite connect, not helped by the fact that it lingers for too long. The album’s lone flaw is that this song wasn’t swapped out for Stevie Nicks’ wildly popular and infinitely stronger B-side “Silver Springs”.

The album is filled out by three tracks in which the songwriters collaborate, which would become a rarity on further Fleetwood Mac albums. The first of which is the McVie/Buckingham number “Don’t Stop”, the upbeat pop rock anthem that is the song that most screams hit out of anything here. The way the two harmonize is the key strength of the song with Buckingham’s sharp, nasal tenor blending surprisingly well with McVie’s relaxed, warm alto and their melodic counterpoints give the song a real punch. The song is a simple chug-a-lug track with the piano stomping along with rocking guitar fills and an AM gold solo to die for. The track might be the only one that feels like it would fit right in on their last record, so it makes for a great bridge, but packing even more hooks in than ever before. It is an uplifting anthem, so delightful it was co-opted by Bill Clinton in 1992, but it endures to this day based off of its singalong melody. Buckingham/Nicks also turn in a track of their own with the embittered country singalong “I Don’t Want to Know”, a song that clearly was written by two exes about their own relationship troubles, bemoaning why their relationship is always embroiled in drama and how they both want to step out of the way so the other can feel happy. It is a song full of angst but it is delivered in an enchanting two part harmony, and over a country, plucked guitar part that makes it an infectious upbeat track to sing along. The song hits its apex in its closing moments with another stellar solo from Buckingham before they both belt out the chorus with aplomb once more. The hook on the chorus is so strong that it should have propelled this to being the album’s fifth chart hit, but on here it is merely an afterthought, tacked on at the last minute. When a band’s near leftovers are this good, they must be on an all time hot streak. The song shuffles and grooves along with ease and charm, masking the hard feelings that inspired it.

While the album has a track list on which over half of the song’s would be the definitive highlight on a lesser album, everything else somehow pales in comparison to the second side opener, the only song in the entire band’s catalog to be credited to all five members of the group. The definitive anthem of sticking together despite the uncomfortable, nigh untenable circumstances because they know they are better together. It is the veritable theme song for this record, and the band in general. It is “The Chain”. “The Chain” towers above the rest of the record because it not only is the only song the band recorded all together in the studio as opposed to recording separately, and you can truly feel the synergy with each member locking in tight and playing with the most fiery passion found on the record. Remarkably, every single member makes a distinct mark on the song, from John McVie’s monstrous bass line that drives the fiery outro to Lindsey Buckingham’s spitfire delivery on the verses and his blistering, hard rock guitar solo that sets the track ablaze and Mick Fleetwood’s throbbing, earth shaking drum work all adding to the song’s instrumental vigor. The intro alone, with its inimitably haunting guitar work from Lindsey melding with Fleetwood’s martial drum beats would make it a standard. The song is sung entirely by the band’s three singers in three part harmony with them all spitting the words in disgust like they can hardly bear to sing them, like it hurts, but those harmonies are stunning, locking in so tightly that they feel like three voices coming from the same person. Even The Beatles would die for harmonies as tight as these. Each vocalist adds their own unique touch with Buckingham’s nasty croon adding to the song’s anger, with Nicks echoing Buckingham on the choruses giving it a call and response feeling and best of all are McVie’s ethereal countermelodies during the pre chorus which add to the atmosphere. The tension of the verses is paid off by the explosive chorus hook that damns the band to sticking together even if splitting up would be easier, out of love. The song is a powerhouse performance and is brilliantly written, with each part feeling like a climax but exploding completely when Buckingham’s visceral guitar solo comes in over the bass line that could raze a city and all three vocalists come crashing back in. The song is an explosion of pure rock power in a way that they’d never come close to again. “The Chain” was never even released as a single but it has gone on to become one of the band’s defining song, an anthem unlike they’d ever seen, it’s only fault is its place in the track list, with it feeling like it deserved to open or close the record as opposed to just starting the B-side.

In fact, “The Chain” epitomizes everything brilliant about Rumours, it is full of hurt and ugly emotions, but it is presented in a way that you can’t help but press play on again and again. It isn’t draining, in fact it is thrilling in a way that little other pop music even comes close to. No matter how many times you listen, it draws you in again with its sharp writing, stellar performances and the sheer drama of it all. It’s like rewatching your favorite movie, even though you know all the twists and turns, they are no less exhilarating the hundredth time. Rumours also has something no other Fleetwood Mac album has that came after, it feels like the work of a band as opposed to three individual musicians. Tusk (1979) in particular feeling like the work of Buckingham, Nicks and McVie as individuals, no longer writing songs in collaboration, and the group’s work suffers for it. They would make plenty more great individual songs, but they’d never make a better complete album experience than this one. A true triumph on all levels, the biggest of which is that this album exists at all despite its troubled genesis. The album’s existence alone is miraculous, it being one of the best albums of the decade is truly unbelievable.