macfan 57
03-09-2005, 10:58 AM
McVie
Fleetwood Mac’s earthy alto fulfills her vision with a solo album and a new beau
By Danae Brook
“I’m a lot more confident now,” says Christine McVie. Glowing with a California tan and the success of her second solo album, the Fleetwood Mac singer and sometime keyboardist is transcending her enigmatic more contemporary tone.
While old rock pals Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood helped her come up with a winning hand (the album’s first single, “Got A Hold On Me” is steadily climbing the charts), Christine McVie is a statement of the performer’s strong voice and sweet melodies.
At 40, strong and sweet are apt descriptions of McVie herself. Settled in Hollywood since the early ‘70’s (when Americans Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham joined Britishers Mick Fleetwood and John and Christine McVie to create one of the decade’s hottest bands), McVie enjoys the sun, sea and sport of southern California.
“I’m very much a homebody,” says the singer, who lives in a wisteria-covered mansion that once belonged to Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh, then Joan Collins and Anthony Newley. “I love to cook and give dinner parties. I’ve got an English pub in the den with a real mahogany bar. The house is really snug. It’s full of guest-mostly English people-and good conversation, good wine and good laughs.”
When she’s working, McVie locks herself in a room for up to 24 hours at a time, writing all night. “I like the night,” she explains. “I like to light candles and a fire and get cozy. But I’ve been enjoying writing alone less and less lately,” she continues. “You get into a musical rut; you try to create, but the same old things just keep coming. I used to be neurotic about writing with other people-’paranoid’ would be a better word. I was embarrassed about making mistakes, but you can’t write a song without experimenting.”
McVie is unwilling to experiment in composing with the ethereal Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac’s femme fatale. “We’re not compatible writers,” McVie says firmly. “We get on all right as friends, but we’re different as human beings and different as writers. We have different methods and different tastes.”
McVie also finds recording with the band completely different from independent work. “With Fleetwood Mac, it’s like a whole musical jigsaw puzzle that takes forever to put together,” she says, explaining that her solo effort took seven months, while an entire year was needed to complete Fleetwood Mac’s 1977 hit LP, Rumours.
“I never want to subject myself to that again,” says McVie. “Five very strong-minded people in the studio at once is time-consuming, with so many changes of mind and heart. It’s simpler when one person decides the whole concept.”
Fleetwood Mac’s changes of mind and heart extend to their romances, too. Nicks and Buckingham were lovers for six years and split in 1974. Soon John and Christine McVie’s seven-year marriage broke up. In 1978, he married his secretary.
“I blame rock ‘n’ roll,” Christine said at the time. “Never having a break from one person, you see the other person at their worst,” she explains now. “You see the hangover in the morning, spend the day with it, and then have to go on and work all night. I’ve never found that working with someone I’m emotionally involved with has been very satisfactory.”
Soon after her divorce, McVie found satisfaction for three years with Beach Boy drummer Dennis Wilson. They split up two years ago, and Wilson drowned last Dec. 28 off the beloved Malibu coast that he celebrated in his music.
“Dennis loved life with such a raw passion that he wanted to do everything,” McVie says. “It was like he was always trying to cram 10 lbs. Into an 8-lb. bag.”
A well-known devotee of fast-lane living, Wilson smashed up McVie’s Rolls-Royce so many times that she had to get rid of it. “He took a heavy toll on me,” she admits. “He was an impulsive, passionate man, and I loved him very much once. Let’s just say he was too radical for me, a total extremist. I couldn’t keep up with the pace-all the time I was with him he was burning the candle at both ends and in the middle.”
McVie’s current flame is her keyboard-and synth player, Eddy Quintela. “It’s the most fun relationship I’ve had in a long time,” she says with a smile. “I’m not saying we’ll get married, but I won’t be pessimistic.
“It depends so much on the man.,” she continues. “Eddy is very different from my first husband, John. He’s ten years younger than I am, but he’s stable, mature and fun. We’re very good friends and we laugh together. I’d probably be irritated by an unintelligent, immature younger man, but an amusing, sensitive 30-year-old is wonderful!
“Young men aren’t highly strung about a woman being powerful or creative, and that’s a relief,” McVie adds. “And I don’t think or feel like a 40-year-old maybe because the people around me are youthful, vibrant and refreshing. I can’t imagine any other way of living.”
Fleetwood Mac’s earthy alto fulfills her vision with a solo album and a new beau
By Danae Brook
“I’m a lot more confident now,” says Christine McVie. Glowing with a California tan and the success of her second solo album, the Fleetwood Mac singer and sometime keyboardist is transcending her enigmatic more contemporary tone.
While old rock pals Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood helped her come up with a winning hand (the album’s first single, “Got A Hold On Me” is steadily climbing the charts), Christine McVie is a statement of the performer’s strong voice and sweet melodies.
At 40, strong and sweet are apt descriptions of McVie herself. Settled in Hollywood since the early ‘70’s (when Americans Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham joined Britishers Mick Fleetwood and John and Christine McVie to create one of the decade’s hottest bands), McVie enjoys the sun, sea and sport of southern California.
“I’m very much a homebody,” says the singer, who lives in a wisteria-covered mansion that once belonged to Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh, then Joan Collins and Anthony Newley. “I love to cook and give dinner parties. I’ve got an English pub in the den with a real mahogany bar. The house is really snug. It’s full of guest-mostly English people-and good conversation, good wine and good laughs.”
When she’s working, McVie locks herself in a room for up to 24 hours at a time, writing all night. “I like the night,” she explains. “I like to light candles and a fire and get cozy. But I’ve been enjoying writing alone less and less lately,” she continues. “You get into a musical rut; you try to create, but the same old things just keep coming. I used to be neurotic about writing with other people-’paranoid’ would be a better word. I was embarrassed about making mistakes, but you can’t write a song without experimenting.”
McVie is unwilling to experiment in composing with the ethereal Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac’s femme fatale. “We’re not compatible writers,” McVie says firmly. “We get on all right as friends, but we’re different as human beings and different as writers. We have different methods and different tastes.”
McVie also finds recording with the band completely different from independent work. “With Fleetwood Mac, it’s like a whole musical jigsaw puzzle that takes forever to put together,” she says, explaining that her solo effort took seven months, while an entire year was needed to complete Fleetwood Mac’s 1977 hit LP, Rumours.
“I never want to subject myself to that again,” says McVie. “Five very strong-minded people in the studio at once is time-consuming, with so many changes of mind and heart. It’s simpler when one person decides the whole concept.”
Fleetwood Mac’s changes of mind and heart extend to their romances, too. Nicks and Buckingham were lovers for six years and split in 1974. Soon John and Christine McVie’s seven-year marriage broke up. In 1978, he married his secretary.
“I blame rock ‘n’ roll,” Christine said at the time. “Never having a break from one person, you see the other person at their worst,” she explains now. “You see the hangover in the morning, spend the day with it, and then have to go on and work all night. I’ve never found that working with someone I’m emotionally involved with has been very satisfactory.”
Soon after her divorce, McVie found satisfaction for three years with Beach Boy drummer Dennis Wilson. They split up two years ago, and Wilson drowned last Dec. 28 off the beloved Malibu coast that he celebrated in his music.
“Dennis loved life with such a raw passion that he wanted to do everything,” McVie says. “It was like he was always trying to cram 10 lbs. Into an 8-lb. bag.”
A well-known devotee of fast-lane living, Wilson smashed up McVie’s Rolls-Royce so many times that she had to get rid of it. “He took a heavy toll on me,” she admits. “He was an impulsive, passionate man, and I loved him very much once. Let’s just say he was too radical for me, a total extremist. I couldn’t keep up with the pace-all the time I was with him he was burning the candle at both ends and in the middle.”
McVie’s current flame is her keyboard-and synth player, Eddy Quintela. “It’s the most fun relationship I’ve had in a long time,” she says with a smile. “I’m not saying we’ll get married, but I won’t be pessimistic.
“It depends so much on the man.,” she continues. “Eddy is very different from my first husband, John. He’s ten years younger than I am, but he’s stable, mature and fun. We’re very good friends and we laugh together. I’d probably be irritated by an unintelligent, immature younger man, but an amusing, sensitive 30-year-old is wonderful!
“Young men aren’t highly strung about a woman being powerful or creative, and that’s a relief,” McVie adds. “And I don’t think or feel like a 40-year-old maybe because the people around me are youthful, vibrant and refreshing. I can’t imagine any other way of living.”