Les
05-08-2004, 09:36 PM
Los Angeles Times
August 16, 1984
"Go Insane"
Lindsey Buckingham
Elektra
by Kristine McKenna
Buckingham has long been the most quirky and adventurous member of Fleetwood Mac, and like a spirited horse harnessed to an elegant carriage, he makes music that strains against pop conventions even while evidencing respect for the tradition that inspired it.
Lyrically, this is a dark record concerned with sexual obsession, fear and hope, but the actual meaning of the album remains a bit murky. You can read the lyrics sheet, listen to the production and get the point, but the various parts of "Go Insane" fail to cohere into a larger whole. It's simply not one of those occasional albums that manage to illuminate a specific issue with an unusually clear voice. "Go Insane" reveals little beyond Buckingham's supreme skill as a popmeister. His admiration for Brian Wilson is evident in the way he uses the studio: The record is a rococo pop apparition that could only be invoked through hours of obsessive work in a soundproof room.
Though a flouncy bit of fluff called "Slow Dancing" is the LPs best shot at the charts, the most interesting cut is "D.W. Suite," a baroque pastiche composed in memory of Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. An ambitious three-part epic whose wafting layers of sound incorporate harp, church bells, ambient noise and gurgling water, it's the best song Brian Wilson never wrote.
August 16, 1984
"Go Insane"
Lindsey Buckingham
Elektra
by Kristine McKenna
Buckingham has long been the most quirky and adventurous member of Fleetwood Mac, and like a spirited horse harnessed to an elegant carriage, he makes music that strains against pop conventions even while evidencing respect for the tradition that inspired it.
Lyrically, this is a dark record concerned with sexual obsession, fear and hope, but the actual meaning of the album remains a bit murky. You can read the lyrics sheet, listen to the production and get the point, but the various parts of "Go Insane" fail to cohere into a larger whole. It's simply not one of those occasional albums that manage to illuminate a specific issue with an unusually clear voice. "Go Insane" reveals little beyond Buckingham's supreme skill as a popmeister. His admiration for Brian Wilson is evident in the way he uses the studio: The record is a rococo pop apparition that could only be invoked through hours of obsessive work in a soundproof room.
Though a flouncy bit of fluff called "Slow Dancing" is the LPs best shot at the charts, the most interesting cut is "D.W. Suite," a baroque pastiche composed in memory of Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. An ambitious three-part epic whose wafting layers of sound incorporate harp, church bells, ambient noise and gurgling water, it's the best song Brian Wilson never wrote.