This review from a blog, Popserious
http://www.popserious.com/?p=2260
Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget (Fleetwood Mac)
Boardwalk Hall. Atlantic City. June 13th, 2009. The air was ripe with the smell of the ocean, cheesesteaks and axe body spray.
Girls combed their hair in their rearview mirrors and the boys tried to look so hard. (Sorry, it’s Jersey. The Boss has to be mentioned.)
Accompanied by two fellow pop culture enthusiasts from Brooklyn clad in skinny jeans, we sojourned to Atlantic City to pay hommage to one of the most incestuous, celebrated and screwed up bands in music history.
Fleetwood Mac. (Get out your coke spoons!)
Fleetwood Mac’s abridged drama:
1)The British keyboard player (Christine McVie) was married to the bassist (John McVie) and starts banging the sound guy. Rumored to have banged lead guitarist/singer (Lindsey Buckingham) a few times, as well.
2)The wicca piece of ass with a sheep-like wobble (Stevie Nicks) starts banging Don Henley from The Eagles, the tour manager and then the drummer (Mick Fleetwood), much to the chagrin of the lead guitarist and singer (Lindsey Buckingham) who she hitherto was banging since High School.
Years of infidelity, death threats, drug problems, alcohol addiction, shawls and guy-liner ensued.
They’ve still got the right stuff.
They sounded pretty great— minus the hurdle of losing Christine McVie, masculine keyboard player, to a transgender op. (Just kidding, Davey! I love Christine McVie! She’s retired from the band as of now…) Fleetwood Mac also conveniently relies on three back-up singers to help them hit the high notes they can no longer reach due to massively effed up nasal passages eroded by massive freebasing.
One of the highlights of the evening was Stevie singing her solo hit, “Stand back.” Replete with the signature twirl from the music video. It was hilarious being in South Jerz with thousands of 45-50ish aged people losing their **** when this was performed like they were back in Wildwood in 1983.
I felt honored to share this slice of time with all the men and women who ****ed in a busted trans am to the 8-track of Rumours.
Don’t judge me.