MacNuggets

[SisterNightroad]

35 Years Ago: Cheap Trick Reach a Turning Point With ‘All Shook Up’
By Dave Swanson October 24, 2015 11:20 AM

Perhaps inspired by Fleetwood Mac‘s Tusk, “Who D’ King?” ends the album on a bizarre note that features nothing but several drum and percussion tracks with rousing chanting over the top. A moment for Bun to shine? Perhaps. A moment to just get weird and have fun? More likely.



Read More: 35 Years Ago: Cheap Trick Reach a Turning Point With 'All Shook Up' | http://ultimateclassicrock.com/cheap...ckback=tsmclip

[michelej1]

[Excerpt from a book review]

SDSU’S school of rock

New books capture five decades of SDSU concerts

By Karla Peterson | 7:06 p.m. Oct. 24, 2015 San Diego Union Tribune

http://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/...it-rock-books/

These and other indelible rock ‘n’ roll memories are on display in “Let It Rock!,” a new five-volume book set chronicling five decades of live music presented on the campus of San Diego State University. The set kicks off on May 6, 1960, with local folk singer Sam Hinton performing in the school’s Main Quad. It ends on Dec. 2, 2014, with Fleetwood Mac playing for nearly 10,000 fans in the sold-out Viejas Arena.

[FuzzyPlum]

The most outragious demand a band has ever made

http://www.news.com.au/entertainment...-1227582819786

IT’S the most ridiculous request a band has ever made on their rider in Australia.
According to promoter and writer Stuart Coupe, when Fleetwood Mac toured the country in the 1980s they requested one item in particular which they considered to be a deal breaker: if it wasn’t supplied, they wouldn’t perform.
“For their gin and tonics, Fleetwood Mac requested a specific type of lime,” said Coupe.
“But that particular type of lime was actually not allowed in Australia. So Michael Chugg, who was the promoter, actually had to clandestinely fly in from overseas these goddamn limes for Fleetwood Mac’s gin and tonics.”
After writing two books, The Promoters: Inside stories from the Australian rock industry and the recently released Gudinski: The Godfather of Australian Rock, Coupe has plenty of other amazing tales from his life in music.




Well there you have it... forget the coke, get the goddam lime right.

[StreetAngel86]

Stevie's Sydney house ... i haven't been invited yet. WHY!?!

http://m.dailytelegraph.com.au/enter...f8a82e86f98152

[michelej1]

^Nice.

http://www.heraldsun.com.au/entertai...87125385969e68

Villa Igiea has become the place not to be seen for celebrities like Stevie Nicks staying in Sydney

October 25, 2015 9:31pm Jonathan Chancellor The Sunday Telegraph

VILLA Igiea, best remembered as the long-time Vaucluse home of the late TNT transport tycoon Sir Peter Abeles, is these days Sydney’s finest short-term rental property.

Stevie Nicks, here for the Fleetwood Mac reunion tour, is the latest to take up occupancy.

Word must have spread as the magnificent European-style villa above Hermit Bay has increasingly become the must-stay Sydney base of visiting international stars.

The imposing mansion had enough space to host Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt and their six children when Jolie was here in Australia in 2013 to shoot the World War II drama Unbroken.

Beyonce and JayZ enjoyed the picture-perfect postcard views gunbarreling across the water to the Harbour Bridge and Opera House.

Ditto Katie Perry.

[michelej1]

[Excerpt from an article on emotional songs.]

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2015|Baeble Music, by Don Saas

The Eternal Power of Emotional Pop: The Decades Long Legacy of the Adele Success Story

http://www.baeblemusic.com/musicblog...ess-story.html


I can remember the first three CDs my family owned when I was in elementary school once we began our transition away from cassettes: Fleetwood Mac's greatest hits, Savage Garden's 1997 self-titled debut, and the soundtrack to Grease. On the surface, those three records couldn't have less in common: classic 1970s soft rock, 90s Euro-tinged Australian dance pop, and showtunes. But if you grew up on any of those albums, you know they have something in common. They use theatricality to mask the most vulnerable and intimate emotions.

It's not hip to be an unashamedly emotional artist these days. Vampire Weekend confused the fan base they'd spent years building up by dropping the confessional and unfiltered Modern Vampires of the City only a couple years after the playful irony of Contra. The National have become our most psychologically raw rock band, but Matt Berninger is as likely today to hide his pain beneath oblique references and an almost comically deadpan swirl of post-punk noise as he is to drop all artistic pretense on something as devastating as "Mistaken For Strangers" which is nearly ten years old at this point. Even The Mountain Goats released a concept album this year about professional wrestling which is a far cry from the brutal self-excoriation of "This Year."

That's not to diminish the recent output of The National or the Mountain Goats. Trouble Will Find Me is possibly the band's strongest record yet. If you let yourself travel down the winding corridors of Matt Berninger's narratives, he reveals a level of introspection and self-analysis and self-loathing that is among the most honest and insightful in popular music since the prime days of Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits. But devoting that sort of time to not only discovering that the National exist -- cause you're never going to hear them on Top 40 radio no matter how much the thought of "Conversation 16" being a #1 Billboard hit would warm my heart -- but wandering those halls of their music is a matter of privilege. Let's be honest for one damn second about our entire fandom of music. The average music consumer doesn't have the time to dive into blogs and figure out the intricacies of why the minimalist piano chord structure on "Terrible Love" has so much meaning or why Matt Berninger's subtle drawl does as much as powerful emoting. And that's fine.

The art world exists for the art set, although the odds are that if you're a culture writer, you do it because you love diving into those intricacies. You get off on figuring out what makes it special when The War on Drugs play with the psychedelia of Pink Floyd in the Americana framework of Tom Petty with the vocal stylings of Dire Straits. But most folks just don't give a s***. And that's fine. You aren't better than them for knowing this stuff, and they aren't somehow deficient consumers of the art they do enjoy because they don't have the absurd wealth of knowledge that you've intentionally acquired over the years. And culture writers and aesthetes of all stripe have an obligation to put our own snobbery and pretensions aside when an artist does something genuinely interesting in the mainstream. And, more often than not, that requires an admission that subtlety and nuance aren't necessary qualifiers for greatness.

And that leads back to those first three CDs. I'm not going to make any grand claims that Savage Garden or Grease are great. But they do something people relate to. They deal in universal emotions in the sort of larger-than-life tones that you can't ignore. You either scoff at it or you lose yourself in the campy dramatics of "To the Moon & Back" or "Summer Nights." Look at "To the Moon & Back." If you were a teenager, you loved somebody at some point. It might not have been "love" in the sense that you think of it now as a "rational" adult, but those feelings were there and they were intense and all-consuming. It's one of the problems about growing up and "getting smarter." We lose our ability to acknowledge the intensity of younger, less self-aware emotions. We invalidate them as being "lesser." And the only thing that condescension accomplishes is further engendering the hostility and lack of understanding between the generations -- which is a tragedy in its own right since empathy is supposedly the one emotional tool you should master as an adult.

And pop music that connects with listeners -- pop music that sticks with listeners for years and years and doesn't burn out once the major label corporate push behind it fizzles out -- deals in those emotions we'd all like to think we're too cool to discuss so shamelessly. I haven't made a mixtape for a girlfriend since high school that didn't include Savage Garden's "Truly, Madly, Deeply." I still feel that twinge of desperate, romantic yearning anytime I hear John Travolta burst into "Sandy." I feel those first pangs of heart-ache when I hear Olivia Newton-John belt out "Hopelessly Devoted To You." And all intellectual pretensions of "art" and "criticism" aside, there's no definition of what music can and should do that doesn't include "stir you at your most deep emotional levels."

And of course, Fleetwood Mac...the response there is that Fleetwood Mac are titans of the medium and don't need this apologia. Mostly, I'd agree with you. Anybody who knows the first thing about songwriting and musicianship recognizes that Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Mick Fleetwood, John McVie, and Christine McVie were writing some of the best songs period for a good twenty year period. But they're also soft rock. And in the eyes of so many folks in the rock world, that might as well be bubblegum pop. If you aren't creating avant-garde/post-(insert genre)/dissonant/noise (insert genre here), it's impossible to get wide swaths of the music enthusiast community to take you seriously, and those folks need to grow up and get over themselves.

I was walking home from work a month or so back. It was a crisp Fall day. It was one of the first Fall days to really feel like Fall. I've got a good mile and a half walk back to my house from the office, and I walk to both stay in shape and to just enjoy music that I'm not professionally obligated to write about at the moment. And "Go Your Own Way" came on. As far as Rumours tracks go, I'd rate it just outside of my top 5. But from the first word Lindsey Buckingham sang, that particular listen was different.


Loving you
Isn't the right thing to do
How can I ever change things that I feel?

If I could
Baby I'd give you my world
How can I
When you won't take it from me?

We've all been there. We've been in a relationship that our brain knows is wrong but our heart won't let us abandon. And we've wanted to give partners love that they can never reciprocate. From the first line of the song, Lindsey Buckingham crafted a track with as much emotional insight and nuance as "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys or "Something" by The Beatles. And the kicker...the reason that Rumours remains one of the highest selling albums of all time...is that the band paired these elegant observations with unforgettable pop melodies.

From start to finish, Rumours is a tragedy masking itself in pop excess. One of the most popular bands of the 1970s wrote a chronicle of their own tumultuous affairs and longing and sense of romantic alienation and wrapped it in the sounds of folk, rock, country, and, yes, pop. I saw Fleetwood Mac live a couple years back, and although it's my third favorite track on the album behind "Dreams" and "The Chain," I was immensely grateful that Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks didn't even attempt to do "I Don't Want To Know:" a duet sung from the point of view of two lovers who have no idea how they've managed to stay together this long. And considering the band can still sell out arenas around the world 40 odd years later, they must have been doing something right.

The issue with pop music has never been that it's popular. If that's your issue with any art, you're an elitist a***hole. The conversation begins and ends there. It isn't even necessarily that it's shallow. Of course a top 40 pop song isn't going to be some Proustian treatise on the way we live now. It's that somewhere along the line, the vast majority of radio pop music stopped even pretending that there were human emotions guiding its creation. I love a massive hook as much as the next guy, but if there's nothing...bigger behind that hook, nothing that my heart can latch onto as intensely as the portion of your brain that keeps you humming a melody or mentally reciting a chorus for weeks on end, then that track disappears as soon as the next hook arrives. Emotion and honest-to-god connection are the keys to connecting with a pop song, and considering her wealth of Grammys and the 30 million copies of 21 that she moved, there are almost no mainstream pop stars forging those connections at such a contemporarily unprecedented level as Adele.

It's impossible to discuss the rise of Adele as the modern Queen of Pop (the only other person remotely deserving of the title is Beyonce who is more likely to be characterized as R&B or soul though you could say the same thing about Adele) without looking at one key fact. Albums don't sell anymore. So far in 2015, only one album has crossed the million sales mark. That was Drake's 'mixtape,' If You're Reading This, It's Too Late. 21 was the highest-selling album for two straight years. People bought that album like it was an event because in contemporary pop it was.

Adele is an enigma in the modern pop scene. As other musicians try to capitalize on the continual encroachment of dance and EDM into pop -- which isn't a bad thing; we think performers like Robert DeLong have the chance of being the "Next Big Thing" -- she writes old fashioned, sweeping ballads using orchestral arrangements. Adele is an old-fashioned songwriter and performer, letting her powerhouse voice and arrangements speak more than any pop star antics ever would. In an era where Katy Perry brings out dancing sharks and a mecha-lion to to the Super Bowl (I say this as a closeted Katy Perry fan) and Taylor Swift blasts her "squad goals" without ever really defining what she stands for as an artist, Adele brings music back to basics with the backing of titanic vocals and emotional vulnerability.

I'm not necessarily taking a swing at "manufactured" pop stars. More often than not, there's an honest-to-god performer hiding beneath the gloss and glitz. I'm not generally a Rihanna guy, but I connect to "We Found Love" and "Take a Bow" because, for a couple minutes, we get a chance to peel away the mythos that Rihanna has created for herself. "Teenage Dream" is Katy Perry's best tune because it captures that sense of uncertainty and hope mixed together in a crazy ball of hormones that defined us all as teenagers. Lady Gaga speaks to anyone's inner drama queen, but beneath the crazy costumes and the techno/house EDM elements of her music, she speaks to our need to be larger than ourselves in the same way Madonna has for 30 years. The unfortunate truth though is that for most of these performers, they don't have an entire album's worth of singles in them, but the great tracks they do have represent such an investment to record studios/the performers that they have to dilute their output with as much if not more mediocre content than the singles we love them for. And, as is often the case here, these diluted singles are consumer goods that nobody was asking for, devoid of the humanity that we connected with in these stars in the first place.

And, so far, Adele has avoided that slump. Although 19 was an enjoyable and welcome surprise in its own right, nobody could have predicted the rise of 21 -- a top 40 smash record without a bad song on it. Not every track on the album is the barnburner that "Someone Like You" or "Rolling in the Deep" turned out to be, but 21 is the sort of record where that aggravating moment to change sides or discs on your turntable isn't an excuse to do something else. You want to listen to it all the way through. It's an autobiographical record of heart-ache (ala Rumours) dressing Adele's wounds in the sort of tracks that Diana Ross or Tina Turner or any of the last gasps of the female vocal powerhouse would have killed for in the 1970s.

And that brings us to "Hello." Last Friday, Adele returned with her first track since 2012's Skyfall and her first piece of non-James Bond music since 2011. One of my bosses wasn't crazy about it. And that's fair. The notion that Adele has found herself in a rut of releasing the same "weepy" love song isn't entirely inaccurate, but I'll argue, in all due respect to my colleague, that's sort of the point.

Writers -- particularly the good ones -- return to familiar themes. Ingmar Bergman spent his entire career battling with his relationship with God, family, love, and death. Woody Allen has fixated for nearly 50 years on the ways that men and women try and fail to interact with one another. Thomas Pynchon runs on paranoia and post-War anxiety. And Adele has found her metier -- the "dramatic, cry your eyes out" love song -- while still providing the variations on a theme that keep her interesting and dynamic as an artist.

What makes "Hello" special and more than a return to hurt she received at the hands of a lover in 21 is that "Hello" runs on self-loathing and not self-pity. It's a track about desperately trying to right things with a lover that you've jilted and you know how wrong you are. Once again, this isn't Noah Baumbach or Francois Truffaut levels of emotional insight, but it isn't supposed to be. This is the type of song that you play for anybody you know and they're like, "Oh...f***. I've definitely been that person." We have to stop hierarchizing art between what's good for the "masses" and what works for the "enlightened." You can't compare what they're trying to do so stop trying, and I don't care how "culturally enlightened" you are; if you can't recognize gut-wrenching elegance ala "Go Your Own Way" or "Rumor Has It," that's on you. It isn't on the mainstream performer. And, even in this piece on the need to break down the "gatekeeping" in music fandom, we're aware that we feel this pressure to establish our "indie" and "art" bona fides. Curing this sickness isn't going to be an overnight process.

When the new Adele track hit on Friday, a buddy was bemoaning the fact that Adele was the only star to hit from the British soul-pop scene to achieve this sort of astronomical success. Where's the same editorial love and/or sales for Lianne La Havas or any of her peers? The music business isn't a meritocracy. The "best" songs (whatever the Hell that could possibly ever mean) don't rise to the top. Adele had the right sound at the right time with the right push and investment from the media to stand at the top of musical pyramid and capture the national musical zeitgeist unlike any artist of the last ten years. But when you create emotional bonds with your listener as effortlessly and with as few gimmicks as Adele does, it seems difficult to begrudge her that success.

[michelej1]

[A man who worked in Advertising and Promotions for a Record Company talks about his celebrity encounters]

By Tato Malay (The Philippine Star) | Updated November 23, 2015

http://www.philstar.com/entertainmen...rity-anecdotes

One morning a guy claiming he was John McVie of the Fleetwood Mac called me. He said he saw my name and picture in the papers. To cut it short, he came and the moment I was convinced he was John, I booked him in a TV noontime show. We brought him back to Los Baños later where he was vacationing with his brother-in-law and we were surprised to see a lot of fans wanting to meet him after seeing him in the TV show.

[vivfox]

Originally Posted by michelej1

One morning a guy claiming he was John McVie of the Fleetwood Mac called me. He said he saw my name and picture in the papers. To cut it short, he came and the moment I was convinced he was John, I booked him in a TV noontime show. We brought him back to Los Baños later where he was vacationing with his brother-in-law and we were surprised to see a lot of fans wanting to meet him after seeing him in the TV show.

We brought him back to Los Baños translates to:We brought him back to the bathrooms.

I kid you not.

[PenguinHead]

Originally Posted by StreetAngel86

Stevie's Sydney house ... i haven't been invited yet. WHY!?!

http://m.dailytelegraph.com.au/enter...f8a82e86f98152

Such a big house for one person. Perhaps she shared it with her backup singers.
It would feel kind of spooky if I was in a mansion all by myself.

[PenguinHead]

Originally Posted by vivfox

We brought him back to Los Baños translates to:We brought him back to the bathrooms.

I kid you not.

That's quite a vacation destination!

[bombaysaffires]

Originally Posted by PenguinHead

Such a big house for one person. Perhaps she shared it with her backup singers.
It would feel kind of spooky if I was in a mansion all by myself.

Stevie's never without an entourage. I bet there was at least half a dozen people there with her, or more.

[michelej1]

[I wonder which FM song was on Supergirl]

Den of Geek Mike Cecchini11/30/2015 at 10:46PM

http://www.denofgeek.us/tv/supergirl...d-faced-review

Supergirl: Red Faced review

Seriously. That opening with Supergirl getting involved in a road rage incident so cartoonish that I half-expected it to be a result of this week's villain being Brainiac manipulating these two hyper-masculine douchebags? That was pretty lazy. Kara working out her issues with one session at the gym and some some empty "anger behind your anger" drunken advice from her boss? That didn't help, either. Padding everything else out with some really uncomfortable and unconvincing "romantic tension," General Sam Lane, and Cat Grant's mother (who has no reason to be here)? Nope.

An insufferable slowed-down cover of a Fleetwood Mac song I already dislike intensely just fueled the misery.

This episode gets a slightly higher rating than it should, simply for the novelty of seeing Red Tornado in action, but even that is tainted by the fact that, well...he doesn't look as good in action as I'd hoped. Making

[FuzzyPlum]

The Guardian

How bands survive the loss of a singer: 'It can't just be slotting someone in'

http://www.theguardian.com/music/201...elvet-revolver

The magnetism of Scott Weiland, who died on Thursday, was central to the appeal of Stone Temple Pilots before he left the band. The challenge of replacing such a key figure has dogged many successful acts
Mark Guarino
Saturday 5 December 2015 14.32 GMT Last modified on Saturday 5 December 2015 15.08 GMT



The unexpected death of Scott Weiland late Thursday is now only producing an assessment of his life in music, and his insurmountable gifts as a vocalist and frontman. It also raises the inevitable question of what happens to a band’s legacy after its most recognizable leader passes away.

Weiland, 48, was in and out of Stone Temple Pilots, the California rock band that is remembered as one of the most commercially successful groups of the 1990s alternative rock heyday. As the band’s lead singer, he didn’t just possess powerful vocal skills; his good looks and chameleonic visual sense made him a compelling presence in videos and on the concert stage.

But Weiland’s reported struggles with drugs forced the band to fire him and, after lawsuits between both parties, they later brought in a replacement: Chester Bennington of Linkin Park. The matchup lasted two years and produced a single EP and a tour. Last month Bennington announced an amicable split from STP. Band members Robert DeLeo, Dean DeLeo and Eric Kretz released a statement saying Bennington’s departure offered them “a new beginning” and said they had already written and recorded new music.

“We have had the fortune of playing with some very talented singers over the last few months and will continue to do so until each of us feels and knows when the right person arrives,” they said.

Yet the struggle to find a replacement singer after a band’s most productive years is one that many bands have struggled to overcome.

Despite continuing to make new music, bands like 10,000 Maniacs (Natalie Merchant), INXS (Michael Hutchence), or Creedence Clearwater Revival (John Fogerty) are classic examples of bands that tried, but failed, to strike commercial fire after the departure of their singer. Two years following their breakout hit No Rain in 1993, the neo-psychedelic band Blind Melon had to make an exit following the overdose death of singer Shannon Hoon. The band attempted a reboot in 2006 with a new singer but it fizzled.

In cases like these, scouting a replacement for a charismatic figure such as Hoon – or Hutchence or Weiland – isn’t as simple as just slotting someone in, since their strong visual sense and distinctive vocals became ingrained with the public perception of the band.

Gia DeSantis, who worked with Blind Melon as head of video promotion at Capitol Records, says that the band knew its chapter was closed following Hoon’s death because he had become the public face of their music through their videos, particularly the one for No Rain, which aired around the clock on MTV and that VH1 included in its list of the 100 Greatest Videos of All Time.

“Shannon had a magnetism. You couldn’t take your eyes off him,” DeSantis says. “They knew to bring in a new singer to sing his lyrics would not have had the same magnetism.”

“Because the video was so huge, we now have a visual of Shannon dancing and doing his thing. It’s the same thing with Scott [Weiland], where you have something that is so deeply ingrained into the music I don’t think can be recaptured,” she adds.

Bands that have managed to move through a personnel crisis tend to be warhorses of a former era, like Fleetwood Mac, Van Halen and Genesis. Despite major shifts in sound, style, and players, the founders stayed put to steady the ship. Ted Cohen, a former executive at Warner Bros Records, worked with both Van Halen and Fleetwood Mac early in their careers and says that what kept both bands together despite the rotation of lead singers was Eddie Van Halen and brother Alex Van Halen in the former, and Mick Fleetwood and John McVie in the latter.

“They were the constant centers of their bands, and they surrounded themselves with different people over years. But they were the core,” Cohen says.

Are there genres of music where an acrimonious split or death doesn’t matter? Look to punk and heavy metal, both fundamental areas of music that are ruled less by videos and personalities and more by grooming audiences through live shows.

These bands represent ideas and cultures that are bigger than individual members, which mean the music is more apt to survive disaster. The prototype is Black Flag, a hardcore band that is still revered despite its spreadsheet of singers. Even Blink-182 didn’t blink when singer Tom DeLonge left this year, replacing him with Matt Skiba of Alkaline Trio. And after the 2002 death of singer Layne Staley, Alice in Chains waited four years before reactivating the band with a new singer. Fans mourned Staley but the music meant enough: they came back.

Death, bad blood and much more have destroyed bands as they move through the common trajectory of finding a shared purpose to create music and then, when success finally strikes, becoming embroiled in everything it can yield: drugs, alcohol, lawsuits, ego clashes and the constant pressure to produce new music and tour to keep the franchise afloat.

When bands crumble, some patch themselves together with other refugee musicians who are in the same situation. Audioslave (Rage Against the Machine, Soundgarden), Chickenfoot (Van Halen, Red Hot Chili Peppers), and even Velvet Revolver, a band featuring Weiland with members of Guns N’ Roses, are all supergroups that breathed new lives for musicians looking to stay active.

“The chemistry has to be right,” says Cohen. “It can’t just be slotting someone in.”

[michelej1]

[Stevie may have said this as a joke, but frankly I can't even imagine her joking about maybe opening for Janis more than once. That's not like her at all. Evenly playfully, she would not suggest that she was even really doing drugs back when they opened for Janis. She remembers would joke about how much she remembers from those days -- which is why some of her song intros are so long -- not how little]


http://www.citypages.com/music/year-...quotes-7885976

"We were a good band. We opened for Jimi and Janis and CCR ... I'm told we opened for Janis more than once, but I can't remember." — Fleetwood Mac's Stevie Nicks at Xcel Energy Center in January

[michelej1]

Album review: Fleetwood Mac, December 10, 2015

http://www.advertiser.ie/galway/arti...-fleetwood-mac

Fleetwood Mac - Tusk Deluxe Edition (Rhino)

BY KERNAN ANDREWS

HOW DO you follow an album like Rumours? You can't. Born of heartache, recrimination, love lost, and new love with your ex looking over your shoulder, it was a cathartic, emotionally raw, confessional, and all too real work.

In 1977, "they meant it, maaann!" and it is why Rumours is still cherished today. When the sprawling double album Tusk was unleashed two years later, it was met with bewilderment, judged a failure, and not a little bizarre - particularly the idiosyncratic, oddball songs by guitarist Lindsey Buckingham. There was also a hell of a lot of cocaine going up people's noses, hence Tusk veers from gentle and mellow to manic and hyper at the drop of a hat.

Time has been kind to Tusk though and it has come to be seen as possibly the band's most experimental, left-field moment. This is borne out by the fact indie-rock weirdos Camper Van Beethoven released a note-for-note cover of the album in 2002. REM, Tame Impala, and Best Coast have also paid homage. This is significant, as Tusk's most out there songs, indeed the album as a whole, was due to the vision, drive, and determination of Buckingham.

Buckingham was impressed by the emergent punk and new wave movements, particularly with what was happening in New York and the early Talking Heads albums. Determined to keep Fleetwood Mac relevant, he unapologetically soaked up the new influences. It could have been terrible - established superstars jumping on the new trend. Instead, punk allowed Buckingham create songs that foreshadow developments in later indie music, and that today, sound startlingly contemporary. His songs also have a rougher, looser, feel to them and are noticeably less polished production-wise - deliberately so - than the other tracks.

The frantic, fuzz-rock bounce of 'The Ledge' and 'That's Enough For Me' seem to anticipate both the aforementioned Camper Van Beethoven and the country-punk stomp of the Meat Puppets; the sublime dreamy, languid, psychedelia of 'That's All For Everone' is Tame Impala 30 years before the real thing (the Aussies covered it in 2012 ); and given songs like the wonderful 'Don't Blame Me', it's easy to see why REM were impressed. The Talking Heads influence is apparent on 'Not That Funny', but it has enough individuality that it would not sound out of place in a contemporary indie clubnight.

This is why Tusk has endured. Yes Christine McVie and the great Stevie Nicks contributed some wonderful moments (Nick's magnificent, dark, 'Sisters Of The Moon' is Tusk's 'Gold Dust Woman' ) but their songs were more conventional, playing it safe.

Hipsters have latched onto 1987's 'Everywhere' as the reason to cherish Fleetwood Mac. Indeed it is a song to cherish, but if they really knew anything about indie, Tusk is the album they would venerate.

This de luxe reissue comes with copious alternative takes of the album tracks, as well as demos. The highlights though are the live tracks from London, Tucson, and St Louis, particularly the iconic 'Oh Well', from the Peter Green era, which Buckingham damn near makes his own.