Lindsey's arrogance...?
 

I guess at this point there's no real argument about Lindsey having a bit of an ego. I say it goes with the territory and, quite frankly in most cases, his extreme confidence in his own abilities is right on spot. However, when reading this review from the recent LA show, the one fan named Kevin appears to be an insider on Lindsey and claims that he has let it all go to his head.

So all I want to know is, as Kevin claims, prior to 2003 was Lindsey somehow less of a (as the fan puts it) "self ed egotistical showoff?" I thought he had somehow always showed off his guitar prowess and had incredible stage presence, but now that I think of it he was quite, quite mellow/calm on The Dance dvd.

Granted, I never saw Fleetwood Mac properly live prior to 2003. I basically became all about LB in that year thanks to his amazing-ness on the SYW tour. He just seemed to have such command, of his instrument and of the stage.

To those who have sort of been there for many years...has Lindsey changed in terms of his live performances? If so, how? And would you boil it down to arrogance or just the gift of having honed his craft for so many years? I want to hear what anyone has to say about this because I always feel more educated on a topic once it's been discussed a bit.:)

Lindsey wasn't even as mellow and calm on the Dance tour as he was on that Dance DVD. He was always confident, always commanding and always a little crazy. But you had Christine there, so with the 3 of them you couldn't say it was the Lindsey show, as they're saying now. You had 3 focuses.

But he'd certainly have guitar solos on his songs, Stevie's and Christine's. And he'd be all over the stage. He was never standing quietly in the shadows and never really not showing off. He may not have been raising his guitar over his head in victory like the writer said recently, but he was certainly dominating attention with it and no one spent a lot of time not letting him do whatever he wanted.

Actually, if I had to describe how he's different now I'd say that he seemed to be more direct and forward before. To me, he does things in a roundabout, reverse-psychology, falsely humble way today which he didn't bother with in the past. He used to be more brooding. He'd be as likely to scowl on stage then as he is to smile now. He might be more confident in his life and in his talent today, but I think he's less arrogant and much more diplomatic now than he used to be.

Michele

Not that this addresses your point exactly Nico, but here's an October 16, 1997 review in the San Francisco chronicle talking about LB's performance that is so much like the reviews we get today.

http://fleetwoodmac.net/penguin/archive/chronicle1.htm

This band's enormous appeal has always been based in a delicate chemistry -- three entirely different lead vocalists switching places at the front of the powerhouse rhythm section. While vocalist Stevie Nicks has usually served as the main focus -- with McVie offering a more earthy foil -- it was Buckingham who edged the massive sound toward any kind of intensity in the 2 1/2-hour show.

Nicks looked tired, a fatigue that her heavy layer of cosmetics couldn't disguise, but the crowd's adoration appeared to energize her as the proceedings progressed. Behind his drums, bug-eyed, mugging and grinning, Mick Fleetwood was obviously thriving. But, time and again, it was Buckingham who put the fire in the music.

The carefully orchestrated guitar choruses he tagged to the end of his first solo number, ``I'm So Afraid,'' synched with Fleetwood and bassist John McVie, built toward an explosive climax that drew a standing ovation. His solo acoustic reworking of ``Big Love'' was a wrenching, driven performance. Whether whipping the edge of the music with his big guitar sound or pumping passionate vocals into the mellifluous harmony blend -- his ``bom-bom-bom-bom'' vocals on ``Second Hand News'' throbbed with the feeling -- Buckingham pushed the band to its boundaries.

This from a Memphis Review in November 1997:

Thanks so much Michele. All these reviews are very interesting to read. I really appreciate your posting them as well as providing some insight. So he let loose on the Dance tour? Hmm...so it may be that shack'n up (I hope I spelled his name right) was right in saying he stiffens up before the camera because, no matter how amazing he was on that dvd (and he was so, so amazing) it's like a completely different person. He's all reserved and kind of, uh, a little nervous at points. How cute...:xoxo:

I really love the way he performs. He has no reservations and so much audience interaction. I love that he is the way he is, but I also have to agree that some stuff- as you put it- could be "falsely humble."

Those reviews are a great read, thanks Michelle.

And OP, let me just say, if I was as skilled a guitarist and as amazing a showman as Lindsey, I would be arrogant too. :laugh:

He most definitely HAS got something to be arrogant about! :thumbsup:

In my first live experiences with the Mac, LB, and Stevie (this year and last year), my observations surprised me. First, Stevie seemed like she would rather be somewhere else, or severely preoccupied. Also, it seemed as if she was a bit turned off by the fan adulation, although not ungrateful.

Lindsey's solo show, he definitely gave off the "false humble" vibe...which is a ton more palatable than the arrogant, egotistical attitude he possessed at the Mac show. Honestly, as much as I love him, it made me cheer louder for Stevie. I can't stand that.

Although, I was swept off my feet with everyone else during ISA. Then, he went back to being falsely humble to receive his applause, which was nice.

I can't blame LB for it though...it's really Stevie's fault. She's the one who told him he was "beautiful" and a "genius" who "could play anything"...she totally created that monster we see today. ;)

my thoughts exactly! at least he as something to back it up with!!


I didn't pick up on the "falsely humble" vibe....
and he IS a beautiful, genius, who CAN play anything!
am I letting my bias show? :D

It's been so long since the heyday days, but the thing I remember the most is that none of them -- Chris or Lindsey or Stevie or even Mick -- ever seemed nervous. When I watch them perform on TV or YouTube these days, they all seem nervous, or twitchy, or not completely confident, & so they seem to overcompensate for that with unusual masks, which might make them seem aloof or self-trumpeting or something negative. Maybe when you're a big rocker standing in front of thousands of people & you're not really much of an extrovert, age will make you nervous. In 1980, for example, the last trait you would ever see in any of them was nerves, in either their singing or their speaking. They were coasting in those days on so many things: youth, good bodies, popularity, money, etc. Time & change wreak havoc on everyone. So I think the big difference in their performances is nerves.

Honestly, those 2 performances on Leno they seemed so uptight and nervous I actually hurt for them. It was almost pitiful. I mean, I hated them looking like they felt they had so much to prove because, of course, I think they own everything. So, it made me nervous to see them seemingly so insecure.

Michele

Without knowing much about Lindsey's home life, except that he was the youngest of 3, I just get the impression that all 4 of the people in his family must've spoiled him rotten, before Stevie got to him. Michele

I should say that what I think about what Lindsey does in concert -- which has turned at least 2 reviewers off -- to me is something other than arrogance. When he is stomping around, waving his guitar after one of his songs going, "Whoa!" I don't think he is saying, "I'm so wonderful." I think he is saying to the audience, "I'm excited that you're excited."

On the other hand, when people are telling him he's a guitar god (like Little Big Town did) I think he is thinking, "Well, yes. In fact, I am."

Michele

Oh, very true. Being the youngest in my family, I can understand.

LOL! :nod:

Thanks everyone for your responses! I still have to come to terms with the fact that showing arrogance doesn't necessarily mean a person is arrogant nor is it always a bad thing. It could always be an appearance, but I still kinda think LB knows he's great and, as Michele says, is apt to agree in his mind with the assessment of his greatness from others. ;)

David, thanks for the response. I think you are spot on because I would say Stevie and Lindsey from The Mirage concert are a different kind of wild and crazy than today. Especially Stevie, obviously, because I wouldn't even use those adjectives to describe her these days.

Also, a lot of what they did back then, and that extra coat of confidence, was easily produced by their love for all things white and powdery. It can be said about a lot of people...and I do find it endearing that they get all nervous these days...

Incidentally, without sounding too mean, I've always felt their "Today Show" performance where Lindsey was wearing a shirt and a leather jacket in the middle of, like, 32 degree temperature one of the most AWFUL things I have ever heard. I'm pretty sure Lindsey forgot the song he was playing, started late, and was singing off-key in the most screeching voice ever. Yet, a girlfriend of mine was there in the flesh and said they were great.:shrug: Go figure.

OT, but I was surprised to read in Q that Lindsey was the best man at Mick's second wedding to Jenny.

Michele

Me too...I wonder when that took place and where John was??

Peruvian Nose Candy

That'll shoot any nervousness right out of a person.

Why they're nervous in '97?? They weren't used to releating between themselves or an audience without their "crutches".

Being there is always different, and usually for the better! But yeah, what I saw on TV that morning was pretty..um...well, not good! First song was Go Your Own Way and Lindsey very, very briefly plays the first chord of Peacekeeper before realizing the rest of the band is 25 years earlier...vocals were off-key and his guitar sounded out of tune. Of course, all of these should not be too surprising given the weather. Not sure why anyone in the band or at NBC thought planning an outdoor concert in NYC in April would be a good idea.

There was some glitch there that was not entirely Lindsey's fault. And I can't quite remember what it was. Either Matt Lauer announced Peacekeeper was next, even though the band was scheduled to do GYOW, or something along those lines. I was kind of to the side and Lindsey immediately turned around (to Mick, I believe) and gave him this look like, "WHAT??????" Not angry, just an "oh, ****!" kind of look.

But, in any case, it was great to see (and hear) live. I didn't notice a thing wrong and was SO pissed when I came home and saw the couch reviews that declared the band dead and gone before they ever hit a real stage.

I'm sure the outdoor concert was NBC's idea. A day before--it would have been a fine one since the weather was gorgeous and near 90. Overnight, it had dipped about 45 degrees. I remember wanting to huddle into this man's wool coat, just for warmth, but didn't have the nerve to ask him. And I WAS wearing a fairly warm jacket. Looking at Lindsey made us all cold, but he didn't seem worse for wear. Stevie, even in her non-PC fur, looked like she was freezing.

I don't know, I think you can trace Lindsey's cockiness and arrogance all the way back to 1978, when they were ramping up to record Tusk. Ever since he decided to hack his 'fro off and take a sharp left musical turn, he's been very confident. I've listened to interviews from the Rumours and Tusk eras where he talks about being the sole architect and crafter of the band's famous sound. What about the rest of the band, and Richard Dashut and Ken Caillat we might ask? He also certainly commanded the stage from 1979-1982 (though Stevie certainly had her moments during that era too). I think his breakup with Stevie seemed to really empower him, and he changed his physical appearance, demeanor, and approach. Case and point: look at the New Zealand incident from 1979... he mocked and physically attacked Stevie onstage.

All that being said, I still don't know I necessarily agree with the notion he's arrogant. I absolutely believe he's got a chip on his shoulder for not getting more universal recognition for being one of the guitar greats, and sonic architect of one of the most influential and successful rock bands of all time. He certainly resents/did resent Stevie for finding more solo success than he did. I would even go so far as to say he probably has envied her notoriety... because I bet he feels without him, she wouldn't have gained it. While I agree that sometimes his over the top performances can annoy me, I must say I'm grateful for them, because we sure aren't getting much passion out of Stevie lately!

I wish we could. But we've never heard from anyone who actually saw it first-hand, & we had never heard about it at all until 1990.

Her greater success was only financial & demographic, never aesthetic. He was always a rock press pet, a critics' darling. She never was -- until fairly recently as a rock "elder."

For every star in RS Stevie would get Lindsey would get double... at least the reviews I read...

And when Stevie first described the incident (following Mick's book) she (like Mick) was quite vague as to what exactly happened. LB did something to her, but there were no specifics as to whether he kicked her, licked his tongue out, set her on fire . . .not sure exactly.


And it's funny, because Lindsey doesn't even seem to like those of his own songs that would have given him more commercial success. I think he resented the fact that the masses weren't into the kind of music that he most liked creating and that what they liked best was what he considered least complex and challenging. Rather than wishing he could have had a hit like EO17 of his own, he seems to wish we would be as open to Red Rover as we are to EO17. He could have moved more towards mass appeal. Certainly, he was capable of doing more of that than he did, capable of more Trouble, but I think he wanted us to move more towards what he preferred instead. And, of course, we never did.

Michele

For all of LB's arrogance, he also has (or at least had) a massive case of insecurity. There was that one Rolling Stone interview where all he did was fret about being interesting enough and kept asking the guy whether he wanted to play pool or croquet. :laugh:

Being on drugs and having just broken up with Voldemort Carol Ann might have had something to do with it. I wonder if Lindsey believes his own hype. I think the arrogance is a mask for his insecurity, with or without the help of coke/booze/fame/whatever else he used to get by.

Then, the next thing I know he was bragging about all the people who wrote to RS wanting a date when they found out he was single.

Michele

^ I agree with what you're saying. There's this really awesome quote by LB that I can't find, where he was responding to why he double-tracked his voice on Under the Skin. The interviewee compared it to something John Lennon would also unnecessarily do on his songs and Lindsey says something like, "Well, he (JL) and I are both Libras and both insecure so that's why we do it..." Something like that, but I thought it was an interesting statement. And he basically admitted to being insecure, which I never read/heard him do before.

I wonder if anyone else read/has this article and could post the actual quote. I hate that I have no clue where it is.

That was really smug too. He did that eyebrow-raise/eyelid flutter thing where he looks all cocky and conceited and then chuckles...same thing he did where he said that he found it funny that they (Fleetwood Mac) had to replace him with two guitarists.

I sound bitchy about it, but I secretly find Lindsey's obvious insecurities and blatant arrogance endearing. They're just a few little glitches that add character to a very fine package.

And Jeff told Rolling Stone that Lindsey had always been a little unsure of himself. That there had always been a bit of self-doubt.

Also, in that older Rolling Stone interview I think they discussed Lindsey's shy, hesitancy, but that was more along the lines of going out, socializing and picking up girls, rather than talking about music.

Michele

I believe it all the way about the shy stuff. But it's weird that he had trouble picking up girls when it seems there wasn't a time when he wasn't in a relationship with one. :shrug:

Yeah, well once he got one, he just tried to hang onto her for as long as possible:laugh:.

I always liked how Christine described him after the break up:

That's funny. I remember reading he was kind of loose shortly after his breakup with Stevie and right before jumping into it with Carol Ann. I think he said he was just sleeping around with anyone he could find. Dirty little whore.:D

Back then he was so hot it probably took no effort on his part.

Or was he just MISTAKEN for one?? :wavey:

:laugh: Sigh...always the victim...

:thumbsup: Ah, and therefore giving credence to his arrogance. ;)

Absolutely.;) I mean, right, because anyone who says "I guess I had to prove
I was someone hard to lose" is the personification of meek humbleness.:laugh:

ROFLOL! :laugh: Excellent point.

My friend and I refer to Lindsey's jumping/pumping/spazzing moments as "fits of awesome". Like, in those moments, he cannot contain/get over his own amazingness. We always find it funny, mostly because it doesn't really change yet still seems like a total "OMG I ROCKED THAT!" moment. Which... since we're usually feeling the same way at the time he does it, it just kinda adds to the fun.

Here's the Lindsey article I was referring to

Rolling Stone, October 25, 1984

Lindsey Buckingham, Lonely Guy
Handsome millionaire rock star, 34, seeks soul mate for long-term relationship. Must be willing to relocate to L.A. No drugs.
by Michael Goldberg

Lindsey Buckingham wants a girlfriend. The handsome, intelligent and reclusive musical mastermind behind Fleetwood Mac is living by himself these days. A solitary man. And he doesn't dig it. He's a millionaire at thirty-four, a rock star and, actually, quite a charming fellow. But: "My personal life is fairly barren," he says, sitting in his $2 million home, which is hidden near the end of a dead-end street, far above Los Angeles in exclusive Bel Air.

Buckingham would seem to have it all. Nice house, nice car, nice pool. Nice twenty-four-track recording studio right across the hall from his bedroom. Yet, since the painful breakup of a relationship that had lasted six years, his life has become, well, not so meaningful. He'd like nothing better than for a "wonderful, sensitive, soul-mate girl" to knock on his door.

He glances around his expensively furnished living room, complete with a six-foot-high statue of King Tut and several small glass pyramids. "A house full of new furniture doesn't mean a whole lot," he says in his slightly high-pitched voice. "It doesn't mean ****. It just means you have a nice place to watch TV. But so what?"

He stares at a color TV a few feet away, where Frank Sinatra is crooning his way through a new video, "L.A. Is My Lady." "Yes, it's lonely," continues Buckingham, munching on some potato chips. "I feel pretty isolated at the moment. I'm sort of like a guy on the top of a hill in a little castle of his own. I hope that won't last forever."

The hot Southern California sun streams in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up at least one wall of nearly every room in the house. It's bright, airy, spacious. Palm trees outside; bamboo plants inside. It's as if the house itself were attempting to pull its owner out of the emotional slump of a failed love affair.

The phone rings. Buckingham chats about how his new album "Go Insane" is doing, then says to the caller, "You've got a nice girlfriend, I've got a nice pool table." He laughs dryly. "It's gotten hard to be shallow. Hard to just bring a girl in. How did we used to do that?"

When he wants to, Buckingham can look just like a genuine L.A. rock star. Not affected, but slightly larger than life. Nouveau riche. A bit arrogant. Very cool. This is just how he looks today, strolling into his classy living room. His curly brown hair is stylishly cut a la Eraserhead, and his expressive blue-gray eyes are hidden behind large tortoise-shell shades.

He's the kind of millionaire who wears the same black shirt, blue denims and scruffy gray cowboy boots for days on end, and who mixes those jeans with an expensive black-and-white striped sport coat. He has few friends, but greets the ones he has with a casual "Hey, dude." A down-home kind of rock star. A guy who hangs framed stills from Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock" in his bathroom, stocks his Seeburg 200 Select-O-Matic jukebox with records like the Marcels' "Blue Moon" and Frank Sinatra's "I've Got You Under My Skin" and the Beach Boys' "I Get Around," and leaves a platinum album celebrating the multimillion sales of "Rumours" shunted aside in the corner of a room, as if it didn't mean a thing.

The Lindsey Buckingham the world never sees is the one who spends much of his time by himself in his home recording studio. "He's a studio rat," says his manager, Michael Brokaw. On a typical afternoon, sounds waft down a long hallway from the direction of the studio --- strange, syncopated sounds. A plucked violin string. Electronic drums. A funky synthesizer. Spacey, high-pitched chipmunk vocals. Very rhythmic, very oddball. Very Lindsey Buckingham. "I love to be in the studio," says the shy rock star, surrounded by instruments and electronic equipment. "That's what I like to do best."

He takes his music making very seriously. It was his obsessive desire to do something new that led him to pull away from the formula Fleetwood Mac had developed on the albums "Fleetwood Mac" and "Rumours." His offbeat work on "Tusk," the band's next album, confounded many of the 15 million people who had purchased "Rumours." On "Mirage," the group's latest LP, they returned to the less adventurous sound that had characterized their earlier success. One senses that Buckingham derived a perverse satisfaction from the failure of the album to match the sales of "Rumours."

Here in the studio, away from the realities of day-to-day life, Buckingham seems confident, at ease. This is where he has been creating a sonic world of his own. Inspired in part by the unconventional late-Sixties work of Beach Boy Brian Wilson and the spirit of the Seventies punk movement, but playing by his own rules, Buckingham has been stretching the traditional idea of a pop song, turning strange sounds into hooks, slowing down or speeding up his voice to create intricate, otherworldly harmonies, experimenting with a drum machine and a Fairlight computer, attempting to find new sounds, create a truly new song. "I'm trying to break down preconceptions about what pop music is," says Buckingham, who played nearly every instrument and sang all the vocals on "Go Insane." "I'm struggling to be original."

Out of the studio, it's another story. Fleetwood Mac may have sold millions and millions of records, and Buckingham may be a rock star, but behind the shades he's plainly insecure. "That's something that's always been there," says his forty-one-year-old brother, Jeff Buckingham, an insurance broker. "Just a little self-doubt."

His manager describes him as "private" and "introverted." His brother Jeff says he's always been a loner. Growing up in Palo Alto, a suburb less than an hour south of San Francisco, Lindsey used to spend hours by himself, listening to Jeff's 45s, hits by Elvis and Buddy Holly and Little Richard. Later, after Lindsey learned how to play a few songs on a plastic Mickey Mouse guitar, his parents bought him a real instrument. He taught himself to play be accompanying Kingston Trio records. In high school, he joined Fritz, the only band he has ever played in besides Fleetwood Mac.

He is still unsure of himself. He wonders aloud if he's interesting enough to be written about. Reassurances don't help. "Do you think you have enough for a feature story?" he nervously asks on several occasions. He worries visibly about being the good host. "Can I get you anything? Are you sure everything is all right?" And later: "I don't really do that much. I told you it was going to be boring. Want to play a game of pool? Croquet?"

Even in his own home, Buckingham seems the outsider.

"I've been trying to get to you.
Hey, little girl, leave the little drug along.
I just can't seem to get through.
Hey, little girl, leave the little drug along."
------LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM, "I Must Go"

His house didn't always seem so empty. For six years, Lindsey Buckingham lived with Carol Ann Harris. "Go Insane" is about their relationship and is dedicated to Harris. An attractive blond who grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Harris was a twenty-three-year-old receptionist at Producer's Workshop, a Hollywood recording studio, when Buckingham met her while mixing "Rumours" in 1977. "At first, she was just another conquest," he says, sipping a light beer. "And then later, obviously not."

"I had been in Europe, and it was my first day back at work," says Harris in a separate interview, recalling how they met. "I walked in and saw Lindsey and that was it."

Friends say the relationship was an intense one. The two were inseparable, and as Fleetwood Mac producer Richard Dashut, a close friend of Lindsey's for over ten years, puts it, "They were both very much in love. They saw things in a very serious way. I can't say either one of them had a real sense of humor together. For the first two or three years they were very, very happy and very close. In fact, I think that was one of the happiest times in his life."

Buckingham and Harris kept to themselves. "We lived in seclusion a great deal of the time," she says. "Even on the road, when everyone would be out partying, Lindsey and I would close ourselves off and stay together. He needs a lot of peace and quiet."

But living with a rock star who spends so much of his time in the studio became difficult --- especially for a woman who didn't have a life of her own. "It was very lonely," says Harris. "I think I lived my life for Lindsey. I really felt it was important for me to be there for him, whether or not he was there physically, but for him to know I was there at home. He needed me there emotionally. It was rough. I don't think I can remember relaxing the whole time I was with him."

Life in the rock & roll fast lane also took its toll. There were "personal problems" that neither Harris nor Buckingham will talk about. There were drugs, especially cocaine. "That was a problem," admits Harris. "For him, too. It's very easy to get lost, and I'm sure I did. But I'm in much better shape now than I've ever been. And I still like cocaine. I must admit to that vice." (Buckingham says cocaine was never a problem for him.)

"She was a sweet young girl, very pleasant," recalls Lindsey's brother Jeff. "But she changed to a music [scene]-hardened, drug-hardened person. It just wasn't the same."

"Probably, if I had known what I was getting into, I would have thought twice about it," says Harris. "That was right before "Rumours" broke. So when I met him, it was entering a world that was, to say the least, a little bit hard-core. But I fell in love with him. I had no choice. It's not a life I would have chosen for myself. Thinking back, I've been through the worst of times and the best of times. But it is a very rough world. Especially at the top. A lot of people are changed by it, not in a good way. It leaves a lot of victims. A lot of it's not very pretty. It's easy to get very cut off from reality. Trying to keep one foot in the real world and one foot in the rock & roll world is not easy."

"She got pulled into this whole little world that maybe she wasn't ready for," agrees Lindsey. "She's a girl from a small town who found herself in a world of people who were not particularly responsible." He is silent for a few moments. "I don't really want to talk about that. I don't think it would be very fair. I think it would hurt her."

About a year ago, after much soul-searching, they separated. Buckingham helped Harris move into a place of her own. She has been studying acting and, as she puts it, "finding myself." "It got to the point where she had to move out," he says quietly. "She's still not working. I'm still supporting her, for the time being. We worked out an agreement where I would sort of keep her afloat for a couple of years. I don't mind doing that."

His former lover has mixed feelings about having their relationship turned into "Go Insane." "Some of it makes me angry...sad. A lot of it is upsetting," she says. "But I think there's a lot of love there. It's hard for me to listen to it."

Buckingham doesn't regret writing about something so personal. "I didn't have too many second thoughts, mainly because it was either that or go to a shrink," he says. "I know that sounds a little flippant. I think it was something that had to be addressed. People who write things that mean something, usually they're a little too personal for somebody else. That's a risk that has to be taken."

Lindsey Buckingham seems to thrive on taking risks. He is doing his best to leave behind the band he helped turn into a superstar act and establish a successful solo career for himself. After recording the critically acclaimed solo album "Law and Order" (which contained the hit single "Trouble") in 1981 for Asylum, Buckingham hired high-powered manager Brokaw, signed a multi-album deal with Elektra, spent a year recording the eccentric but excellent "Go Insane" and flew to London to make a surreal video. "Punching out of the Fleetwood Mac microcosm," he calls it.

What he has not been doing is spending any time with the other members of Fleetwood Mac --- in or out of the studio. Aside from a brief, inconsequential meeting backstage at a Christine McVie concert, it's been two years since he's seen any of them. Yet, despite his intentions, Buckingham can't seem to let go completely of Fleetwood Mac. One finds the platinum albums and old magazine photos around the house. Stevie Nicks just sent him a tape of a new song that she wants him to hear. Mick Fleetwood called this morning, asking if he could use Lindsey's studio for a few hours. And as he talks, with or without prompting, Lindsey often refers to Fleetwood Mac.

Ten years ago, Lindsey and then-girlfriend Stevie Nicks, who were performing together as a folk-rock duo and had recorded one unsuccessful album, "Buckingham-Nicks," were asked by Mick Fleetwood to join his relatively unsuccessful British blues band. The rejuvenated Fleetwood Mac's first album, "Fleetwood Mac," was a big hit.

Attempting to follow up their success, Fleetwood Mac spent nearly a year recording the pop-rock soap opera "Rumours," which documented the breakup of both Buckingham and Nicks' relationship and Christine and John McVie's marriage. Even then, there were musical differences. "I can remember during "Rumours," recalls Buckingham, "saying to Mick, 'Well, things don't seem to be going exactly the way I would like them to go.' And he said, 'Well, maybe you don't want to be in a group.'"

Despite the conflicts, Buckingham was the major force behind "Rumours." "His contribution to the album was tremendous," confirms Richard Dashut. "If any one person had the most to do with the production and the arranging and the inspiration, it was Lindsey." Although Fleetwood Mac is listed as the producer, along with Dashut, Ken Caillat and Cris Morris, Buckingham now says, "I can't figure out why I didn't ask for production credit."

"Rumours" went on to become one of the biggest-selling records of all time. Yet for Buckingham it was a bittersweet experience. "When "Rumours" went crazy, I just couldn't bring myself to feel that strongly about the album. At some point, all the stuff surrounding it started to become the main focus. There was a gap between what I felt was important internally --- what I had accomplished musically --- and the popular acclaim."

"Tusk" was "a rebellion against that." For Buckingham, who had become excited by the spirit of punk and New Wave --- Dashut remembers Lindsey playing him records by the Sex Pistols, the Clash and Talking Heads --- it meant abandoning the pop formula that had made "Rumours" such a success and plunging into the unknown. On tour he began using a portable studio to record in his hotel rooms. Back in L.A., he put together songs by himself in a spare room at his house, taping vocals in the bathroom. His efforts were not well received by the band. Still, Buckingham got his way. "Basically, if Lindsey hadn't been allowed to do what he did on "Tusk," I think that you wouldn't have had a band," says Dashut. "Or that they would have got another guitar player. I think that everybody else went along to save the band, as opposed to really agreeing with where his head was at."

Buckingham remembers things differently. "I would bring tunes in, and everyone would go, 'Oh, that's great.' When Mick took the "Tusk" album down to Warner Bros., everyone was jumping up and down going, 'Oh, this is really one of the neatest things we ever heard' --- although I have subsequently heard that when a lot of those people at Warner Bros. heard that album, they saw their Christmas bonuses flying out the window. I do think there was a time when everyone in the band was quite carried away with the spirit of experimentation. But when it began to become apparent that it wasn't going to sell 15 million copies, then everyone from the band looked at me and went, 'Oh, you blew it, buddy.'"

Today, Buckingham feels removed from the other members of Fleetwood Mac, though theywere never close socially. "We never hung out. Never," he says. "We were never friends in the sense that I would call Mick up and go hang out." Now there isn't much of a creative bond, either. "What used to keep them together was the music," says Dashut. "These days he doesn't share much in common musically with everybody else."

Buckingham is plainly bored, and a little disappointed, with what his colleagues have been up to on their own. "I've seen Stevie's show, I've seen Christine's show. To me, they both bordered on being lounge acts, simply because they were resting so heavily on Fleetwood Mac's laurels. But I think you owe it to yourself and you owe it to your audience to try at least."

He is vague about his future with Fleetwood Mac. He might make another album with the group. Still, as he says, referring to "Go Insane," "If this album becomes quite successful, everything's going to change radically."

"I've heard rumors that if I was not ready to do an album in the next three or four months, or at least talk about it, they were going to seek out somebody else," he says. "Like Pete Townshend. That's probably an idle rumor that's somehow gotten around. But at the same time I can't say that doesn't more or less coincide with the kind of psychology I've seen go on in the group at certain times. If something needs to get done, they'll get it done one way or another. And if Lindsey doesn't want to play ball, **** him. They'll fire him and get somebody else. That's the way the band works."

Lindsey Buckingham is standing in the "rain room." This is his favorite room in the house --- other than the recording studio. The room has a glass ceiling. Flip a switch and a gentle shower of water begins pitter-pattering against the roof --- as if it were raining. "It's great for freaking people out," he says, smiling. "You just turn it on without saying anything, and you're in here talking, and suddenly they think it's raining." the room also contains an immense pine tree growing right out of the floor and up through a hole in the ceiling.

As he stands in the kitchen, there is a knock on the door.
A moment later Mick Fleetwood breezes in, followed by a couple of guys lugging boxes of recording tape. Fleetwood wants to use the studio to listen to live recordings of his band, Mick Fleetwood's Zoo. The two members of Fleetwood Mac greet each other warmly, but there is a slight undercurrent of tension. Fleetwood finds himself a beer. Lindsey doesn't ask Fleetwood about those Pete Townshend rumors.

The phone rings, and as Lindsey answers it, Fleetwood wanders out of the room. He returns a moment later with a novelty item, a life-size rubber hand with a wire running from it to a button. When the button is pushed, the fingers move. "I've got to have this," says the drummer. Then he unzips his pants and arranges the rubber hand so that it sticks out of his fly like a mutant phallus. Pushing the button, Fleetwood grins like a maniac as the fingers wiggle.

Chatting on the phone, Buckingham appears oblivious to Fleetwood's antics. Eventually, the drummer and his entourage move back to the studio and the Zoo tape is played. The music is bluesy, meat-and-potatoes rock & roll. Lindsey stays in the studio for just a few minutes, then slips away. The next day he says, "I didn't feel comfortable with the music they were playing. I was almost getting embarrassed. So soon we forget. You see Mick, and all the chemistry comes back, and then all the down-side comes back, too."

As it turned out, Mick Fleetwood and his buddies kept Lindsey up until five a.m. "Finally I had to say 'Mick, I have to go to sleep now. Mick!' It brought back being in the studio and wanting to leave," said the lonesome rock star. "Only I really had nowhere else to go. I mean, this is my house.

It's like the writer decided to go with the Miss Lonelyhearts angle of the story.

Goodness, who could have guessed that Lindsey would still be talking about the isolation of his house on the hill today in 2009. The alienation. The echo. The belief in the power of change. When the tour started, he wasn't doing a Big Love intro, but he couldn't really help himself for too long. Every time I try to let it go, it keeps coming back again.

Michele