But I’m writing this just a few days after Christine passed away, and it‘s been impossible for me not to think about the release of their seminal Rumours album 45 years ago.
It remains Fleetwood Mac’s most celebrated album and one of the best albums of all time.
If it’s true that artists peak under relationship tension, then behind Fleetwood Mac’s radio-friendly hits were inter-group affairs and “cocaine on the walls”. Band members recorded separately and would personally attack each other in their lyrics.
]]>Christine (keyboard) and John McVie (bass) were going through a divorce.
Stevie Nicks (vocals) and Lindsey Buckingham (guitar) broke up.
Prior to Stevie and Lindsey joining, Mick Fleetwood’s wife, Jenny Boyd, had an affair with lead guitarist Bob Weston.
After breaking up with Lindsey, Stevie Nicks had an affair with Mick Fleetwood (the drummer). She was also in a relationship with Don Henley from The Eagles.
Christine had an affair with Curry Grant, the band’s lighting director—for which she wrote “You Make Loving Fun.”
While listening to Rumours on its own merits is mind-blowing enough, knowing the background of the album along with who wrote which song takes it to the next level…
Second Hand News – Lindsey wrote this about Stevie.
Dreams – Stevie wrote this about Lindsey.
Never Going Back Again – Lindsey wrote this about Stevie.
Don’t Stop – Christine wrote this about John.
Go Your Own Way – Lindsey wrote this about Stevie.
Songbird – Christine wrote this about John.
The Chain – the whole group wrote this.
You Make Loving Fun – Christine wrote this about Curry Grant.
I Don't Want to Know – Stevie wrote this about Lindsey.
Oh Daddy – Christine wrote this about Mick Fleetwood; the father figure of the band.
Gold Dust Woman – Stevie wrote this as a metaphor about the all cocaine they were consuming.
Like my dismissal of ABBA, growing up with my parents’ Radio 2, I long dismissed The Beatles as a cheesy 60s pop band for old people.
Two things changed my mind: my friend David Jenner urged me not to dismiss them, and I randomly watched the Sgt Pepper’s Musical Revolution with Howard Goodall documentary.
Following the documentary, I went straight for Sgt Pepper as my entry point, widely considered their best and most experimental album. I fell in love immediately, and outside of their well-known singles, I was pretty shocked at how forward-looking their music was. It was 1967; you need to keep telling yourself. Over 50 years ago. Everything else was crap in the 1960s.
I gave Revolver a cursory listen but dismissed it as a lesser Sgt Pepper. NO! – David kept telling me. Well, in the end, he was right.
To this day, I still love Sgt Pepper’s. But Revolver simply has a better run of songs. It’s a near-perfect but masterful blend of experimental pop. I know this because occasionally, I’ll stick on “Tomorrow Never Knows” in the car with my parents. Not only have they never heard it, but they think it’s awful. The Beatles experimenting in 1966 is too modern for my parents in 2022. But they love Yellow Submarine. Incidentally, Tomorrow Never Knows is one of my favourite songs, and I'll happily skip Yellow Submarine.
Revolver is hailed as The Beatles’ revolution. It was the first album they made after they stopped playing live and wanted to experiment in the studio. If you listen to it in the present day, it doesn’t sound “revolutionary” at all. It does, however, sound FRESH. The only way I can understand its revolution is to try and listen to anything previous to Revolver. I can’t. Anything The Beatles made prior sounds like 1960s-cheesy-pop-for-old-people to me.
Listening to remastered music very much reminds me of playing remastered video games—they feel just like how you remembered them. That is until you experience them side-by-side and realise how lovingly the source material has been updated.
It’s the same deal with Revolver. If you’ve not listened to it in the past week and stick on the 2022 edition, you’ll probably think it sounds just fine. But put it next to the digital mixes from the 2010s, and it’s pretty astounding.
So what’s different? The core album is undoubtedly crisper and clearer – particularly noticeable for me are the drums on Taxman, which almost sound modern now.
My favourite thing about the remasters, though, is the legacy behind them. They’ve been remastered by Giles Martin, son of George Martin—the Beatles’ original music producer (also known as the “Fifth Beatle”). Amusingly, Giles Martin grew up without much awareness of The Beatles, and was discouraged by his father from pursuing a career in music lest the inevitable comparisons should be made between father and son.
I have to say, with these critically acclaimed remasters (Sgt Pepper was remastered in 2017 to similar fanfare), he’s doing fine in his father’s shadow.
]]>Alpha Zulu is sonically somewhere between Ti Amo and their best album Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix. You won't be surprised to hear then; I consider Alpha Zulu a great deal better than Ti Amo but not as good as Wolfgang.
]]>I really wish Phoenix tapped into their strengths more rather than experimenting with slow synth—which they're not very good at. They remind me of Death Cab for Cutie in terms of artistry. Like Death Cab, their best albums were their two back-to-back brother/sister albums—in this case, It's Never Been Like That and Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix—in which they fully embraced their best qualities.
Phoenix are best at upbeat off-kilter jangly music. My case is made for me with the unexpected inclusion of Identical at the very end. This was a track they made for the film On The Rocks with Bill Murry. It's everything you could hope for on a Phoenix track—a looping hook that overshadows almost everything else on the album.
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