Mick Fleetwood: Sunday Daily Express Columns - Page 2

michelej1 · #16 03-16-2014, 03:05 PM

Sunday March 16, 2014, Express Co. UK by Mick Fleetwood

http://www.express.co.uk/comment/exp...ring-nostalgia

Mick Fleetwood Goes His Own Way: Motoring nostalgia

DID you know that in the 17th and 18th centuries, “nostalgia” was deemed a mental disorder?

Actually, I have friends who would agree because when it comes to me and my cars, my nostalgia knows no bounds. It is an important link between my past and present self.

Each car I’ve owned has a story attached. My first was a London taxi that I bought for £12 from a neighbour in Notting Hill Gate.

The perfect vehicle to carry my equipment and take me from gig to gig, I loved that cab, with its solid doors and the familiar diesel rattle and hum. I’ve never had another car that could match the turning radius.

After the cab, vanity got the better of me and I bought a Jaguar XJ-120 sports car for about £60. It was a wreck, leaked as much oil as it used petrol. I couldn’t afford to buy the hard-top roof for the winter so, rain or shine (mostly rain), I drove it with no top at all.

I had a system to weather the storms; a leather cape, one of my dad’s Air Force flying helmets, goggles and enormous Air Forceissue gloves. I’d bomb down the motorways like a mad speed racer, arriving at my destination (no heater) frozen half to death, frost-bitten and soaked to the bone.

That’s what vanity does to you when it’s the car that counts. That car almost killed me when the entire transmission fell out on the road at a roundabout. I retired it soon after that.

In an out-of-character moment, the next car I bought with the novel intention of owning something that I could afford to run. It corresponded to the only time I thought I’d give up being a musician. I bought a little Deux Chevaux.

My pal, percussionist Dave de Silva, was also out of work. Our next possible career move was a choice between being window cleaners or painters and decorators.

Painting won the toss. Our first job? Painting a fresco. I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to paint an entire wall of intestines! And that dear little Deux Chevaux dutifully carried the paint. By far my favourite car of all time, though, was a little Austin 7, that we named Lettuce Leaf (it was racing green!). I’d see this car parked on my daily walk to visit with Andy Sylvester, who was playing with Chicken Shack with Christine McVie at that time. I had no money but I wrote a note and left it on the little car’s windscreen, saying: “I’m in love with your car, if it ever needs a good home please call me.”

The owner saved the note and two years later, when he called, I had enough to purchase the car because I was playing in the Bo Street Runners. It was the car that drove me to my wedding with Jenny Boyd, the car that made me feel things were on the up.

After that I was unstoppable; I saved every dime to purchase more old classic cars, including a 1961 Bristol 401 and a beautiful 1955 MG TF. When we first moved to Los Angeles I bought a gold Cadillac convertible to console me when my other beauties could not make the transatlantic journey.

Poor Lettuce Leaf! When I went to seek my fame and fortune, I left it with my then brother-in-law, Eric Clapton. About 14 years later I got a call from his manager, asking if I wanted the car back! For the past 10 years it had been sitting, uncovered, in an apple orchard. Birds were nesting inside. But that little car was so well built it was very much intact.

I resurrected it and had it shipped to Maui to come live with me again. Now I take my 97-year-old mother to lunch in it every Sunday.

I’m not the only one who enjoys a good car story. Look at the millions of people who love watching Top Gear, a show that illustrates the many ways people become enamoured of their vehicles.

It’s my nature to wax nostalgic over my cars. I can’t bear to let go of even one of them. They represent my life and, in a strange way, they represent the different stages with Fleetwood Mac.

People’s lives become entangled with the lives of their cars; they hold memories and symbolise so much!

I’m obsessed with keeping mine going, no matter what ails them. It’s sort of like all the times Fleetwood Mac was as good as written off. I just kept tinkering, resurrecting, all to keep that motor running.

vivfox · #17 03-16-2014, 05:03 PM

Great story. My favorite part is him taking his 97 year old mother out to eat every Sundae.

shackin'up · #18 03-16-2014, 05:18 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by vivfox

Great story. My favorite part is him taking his 97 year old mother out to eat every Sundae.

Mine too. But indeed the whole story was great. And very Brittish, in a way.

vivfox · #19 03-23-2014, 03:34 PM

By: Mick Fleetwood
Published: Sun, March 23, 2014

The life I love is making music with my friends, and I can't wait to get on the road again - Willie Nelson, On The Road Again.

All of us are familiar with my friend and comrade Willie Nelson's lyrics. As far as I am concerned, there's never been a truer sentiment written, since I love all those old feelings of excitement that ramp up before any tour starts.

My first real tour started with the release of our hit record, Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac. We toured throughout Europe. Lugging equipment, setting up stages, taking small planes, ferries and buses, we had an itinerary of crummy, shared motel rooms, often sneaking five to a room and using overcoats for blankets. We traveled on no sleep and bad food, in broken-down vans, sometimes even hitchhiking to gigs. I loved every minute of it.

I adapted to the rhythm and the chaos of traveling so well because it was in my blood, having been raised in the Air Force. For me, it was the birth of the "Road Dog" - the bloke who is happier and more comfortable on the road than at home. I developed my skills as a ringmaster, organizing and taking control of getting that circus out on the road.

I was in my element, channeling the spirit of the troubadour as we adhered to rigorous touring schedules. By the early 1970s Fleetwood Mac had started touring America. We were still driving ourselves to our gigs, sometimes through rain and snow storms.

Everything was low budget. We stayed at Holiday Inns. We did all our traveling in three large station wagons, now with a baby and wife in tow! Even as we hit the "Big Time" with the release of the album Fleetwood Mac.

I remember the last time we drove those station wagons, in Texas, on our way to play a huge festival. We were fighting our way through terrible traffic. Everyone on the highway seemed to be headed to that same location, and the traffic was getting worse. That's when our friend and road manager, John Courage, took control and said: "Whatever you do, Mick, don't stop following me!" Our cavalcade went rogue. We broke every law in the book as we climbed up on the curb, leaving a 15-mile sea of solid traffic in the dust.

We arrived in time, panicked and breathless. I walked into The Eagles' dressing room; they had been convinced we weren't going to show up. Imagine Glenn Frey's surprise when I told him how we got there in our three station wagons! (The Eagles were at that time enjoying the same level of success as Fleetwood Mac). The penny dropped, it was time to upgrade! The Eagles had all arrived in helicopters!

After that, all hell broke loose; we were like kids in a candy store, limos, private jets and all the rock 'n' roll excesses imaginable. Long gone were the innocent days.

The truth is, what I do is simple.

I play the drums. It's the only thing I am trained to do in life. The second I set foot on stage, sit down and play my drums, everything else melts away.

Today, to walk out on that stage takes a little more support than it used to in those sparse, early days. Now we have all the modern comforts; luxury hotels, first class travel, a team of amazing costumiers, make-up artists, assistants, lighting and sound engineers, techs, etc.

But I know it's our years of commitment and training, combined with all the lessons we learned in our time on the road, that have taught us that no matter what trials and tribulations that went before, we really know how to get "on with the show".

http://www.express.co.uk/comment/exp...ay-On-the-road

welcomechris · #20 03-23-2014, 06:17 PM

Well there we are, Another Mac Member to say they can't wait to get back on the road

michelej1 · #21 03-23-2014, 06:35 PM

Hilarious that the Eagles had all arrived in helicopters as FM drove through traffic. Those pioneer years were the best days though, I bet.

Michele

michelej1 · #22 03-23-2014, 06:36 PM

What is Mick going to do? Compile this series of articles he is doing and make it into a book?

I'm not complaining, because they're good articles. I'm just wondering.

Michele

SteveMacD · #23 03-23-2014, 07:56 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by michelej1

What is Mick going to do? Compile this series of articles he is doing and make it into a book?

I'm not complaining, because they're good articles. I'm just wondering.

Mick is just getting all of the talking out of his system. With Christine back, he's not going to be asked any questions in interviews.

vivfox · #24 03-23-2014, 08:10 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by michelej1

What is Mick going to do? Compile this series of articles he is doing and make it into a book?

When I read this article it felt like I was reading an excerpt from his book.

michelej1 · #25 03-30-2014, 04:23 PM

By Mick Fleetwood March 30, 2014. Daily Express

http://www.express.co.uk/comment/exp...s-from-Thoreau

Mick Fleetwood Goes His Own Way: Quotes from Thoreau

"If a man loses pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured, or far away." - Henry David Thoreau

Thoreau's quote so brings to mind the experience of making the album Tusk. Much like when the Beatles made their White Album, Tusk, for us, was our walking away from predictability.

Kudos to Lindsey Buckingham, who was determined to break the mould of what we had done with Rumours and get away from the possibility of what can so often happen when success impedes artistic expression.

I think Tusk was the most important album we ever made. It's also my personal favourite and now I can appreciate how it was a crucial platform for us all, especially Lindsey. It satiated his drive to try new things.

It was also a time when we each learned to find our own voice. Coming out of the emotional rollercoaster of Rumours, the drama remained. A real shift had occurred, resulting in each of us pinpointing our singular creative method of survival.

We allowed each other the freedom to construct our unique, creative templates and obliterate the old way of doing things, so much so that it was totally OK when, in the middle of it, John McVie announced: "I've done my bass part, so I'm off." And off he went to Tahiti on his boat.

We took it in our stride and had a life-sized cut-out of him to work as a stand-in for the famous Tusk video.

For almost two years we worked in Studio D, at The Village Recording Studios in Los Angeles.

The studio was custom-built to our exact specifications, which may sound extravagant but at the time we could well afford to plough our money back into our art.

We made it cosy, complete with wood panelling in all the rooms. Each room had its unique, ambient acoustics.

I even had remote controlled wood panels that could change position, further controlling the ambience.

On a recent visit there, recording with Stevie Nicks for her most recent album, I was amazed to find the studio unchanged!

While we were recording the song Tusk, my father died. I was in France, suffering from a terrible hangover, after tying one on in honour of my father the night before, when I heard a brass band playing in the square.

I was captivated by how it pulled all the villagers out of their houses to join them. This strange magnetism even worked on me with my terrible headache. I left the house and went to fall in with them. It was magical.

When I came back to the studio, I was so excited about the effects of a brass band that I wanted to put them on the song. That is how Tusk, the song, was born. We famously used a marching band at Dodger Stadium.

It was a huge production and the magnificent drama of their presence added so much energy to that powerful song. Not like now, when all you have to do to get some brass is touch a button.

Although Tusk was given a measure of approval from our peers, for the most part this crazy double album was met coolly by the press.

No matter. This album was our version of marching to the sound of our own drum as a band, as well as individually. It allowed our creative freedom to flow.

shackin'up · #26 03-30-2014, 05:02 PM

Cool piece. I Gree with Mick.

elle · #27 03-30-2014, 05:18 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by michelej1

I think Tusk was the most important album we ever made. It's also my personal favourite and now I can appreciate how it was a crucial platform for us all, especially Lindsey. It satiated his drive to try new things.

It was also a time when we each learned to find our own voice.

nice!