Mick Waxes Over his Love of Vinyl
 

http://www.scottishdailyexpress.co.u...reams-of-vinyl

Scottish Express, February 23, 2014 by Mick Fleetwood


Mick Fleetwood goes his own way: Dreams of vinyl

CALL me retro but I still love records. I have great memories of shopping for vinyl, playing amazing albums, listening to records with friends, trading music and discovering new sounds.

Records have always been a huge source of inspiration. To me there is nothing better than looking at the cover artwork, reading the liner notes and taking in the album’s entire experience.

The way they master music today, much of the integrity of the sound – the emotion and subtlety – is lost. Fleetwood Mac records have an organic sound that is more comfortable to the human ear. At least to mine!

I love listening. I am a great listener, although perhaps a few of my exes might not agree! But I repeat, I am a great listener. Being a drummer, I am well trained to listen. I am not playing a melody but listening to see where the beats come in, that is my skill. My hearing is sharp, acute, first rate.

When we were in the last phases of making the Rumours album, it dawned on the band that all that listening, playing, singing and writing, all that heartache and pain, time and poetry, was just sitting there on two reels of tape, totally vulnerable.

We realised that anything could happen to it. Of course, we never had a hard drive to back it up like you do now. It could all have been lost in an instant.

All kinds of what if? paranoia flooded our brains. What if there was an earthquake, a fire? What if a giant magnet came down from outer space and wiped out half of our reel? We made contingency plans and had copies made of the multi-tracks. Those we had locked up in a bank vault in Phoenix just to be safe.

We were like expectant parents with that album. We went so far as to accompany our “baby” to the “delivery room” and watched the first pressing of Rumours at the pressing plant. We stayed for hours, checking and rechecking to make sure the sound had kept its integrity.

We even hired an engineer whose only job was to watch over the quality of our sound. We were that protective.

My ears miss that analogue sound. Most people have no idea that what they are hearing on a daily basis is actually digital sound, or that digital sound has no sound waves, no high fidelity. All that compressing, in my opinion, takes a lot of the traditional dynamics out.

Fleetwood Mac released a full box set of vinyl recently and I know I am not alone in my fanatical audiophile ways. I just picked up a small, portable record player sold by Jack White’s Third Man Records. This record player actually has great sound.

I use it on the road so I can pacify my demanding ears and I have a lot of fun with it. At home I have a Thorens deck to play my beloved vinyl.

Did you know that you can actually play the gold ones, too? This, I discovered, after some hullaballoo in the late Seventies when people were complaining that their Rumours albums were not actually playing the album they had bought but a Frank Sinatra record instead.

I remember popping my gold record out of the frame to see what all the fuss was about. Sure enough, there was old Frankie Boy crooning away and my gold record spinning on the record player. Ironic after all the care we took at the pressing plant! I guess someone on the assembly line had gone to sleep on the job.

Of course Warner Brothers stopped the press but, hands down, I bet that Frank Sinatra/Fleetwood Mac album may be one of the most collectable we put out. Meet our precious baby, Frank. Isn’t he cute?

Amazing read! This gives me hope that they will put their next album out on vinyl. How groundbreaking for Fleetwood Mac would that be? A new album on an album!!! For some reason I feel Stevie won't go along with this idea......

I don't see why she would object. Vinyl has a loyal following. People go out of their way to get new music on vinyl, since it's usually done in limited quantities. It out-performs CD.

Still, the new batch of songs from the EP does NOT have that warmth he's talking about. Listen to your own latest work, you listener of listeners...

Dave Stewart recorded and put out a record on vinyl while in the middle of working on "In Your Dreams" with Stevie so I thought "IYD" would be on vinyl as well but no such luck...Stevie missed a great opportunity...

If Mick is feeling nostalgic and want's the bands next effort on vinyl then it should be an analog (No digital at all) project from start to finish like Vanessa Carlton did with her "Rabbits" album...With Dave and Vanessa both putting out vinyl on the "Razor & Tie" label (another reason for Stevie & FM to not stay with WB) in 2011 about the same time "IYD" came out you would have thought Stevie would have wanted to jump on the vinyl bandwagon...

The "EP" lacks warmth because it was not recorded on 2" tape...You can't get that 70's album sound from Pro-tools...

Completely agree. However, ProTools is the new industry standard. I mean, how many new songs on the radio sound like they were done on 2" tape? (Which is exactly why I don't listen to new music stations.)

I'm not so sure it's a matter of Pro Tools, but instead a matter of production & mixing. I cite this example endlessly, but listen to the albums Ken Caillat produced for his daughter, Colbie. They have that classic warm, breezy, southern California sound the 70s Fleetwood Mac albums are known for. Fleetwood Mac's albums have suffered ever since they parted ways with Richard & Ken.

As mentioned above, it's the recording engineering and production that really have the greatest effect on the "sound".

Vinyl and tape add imperfections and coloration. If that's what people enjoy, great... I like to salt my food, but I wouldn't want everything prepared with extra salt ahead of time.

A shame that Say You Will and In Your Dreams were not issued on vinyl. Maybe someday.

Mick Writes About his Love of Fasion
 

[Ok, this is Mick's second column for the Scottish Daily Express. I am going to dress like Mick for the next FM column. I will get a big colorful scarf and a white hat and a vest.]

http://www.scottishdailyexpress.co.u...Custom-fashion

Mick Fleetwood Goes His Own Way: Custom fashion, March 2, 2014 by Mick Fleetwood

IT'S NOT exactly breaking news, my many dalliances with addiction in my life, but one hasn't been well-documented, and that's my absolute love of fashion.

Not so much fashion per se, rather my personal pursuit of theatrical self-expression through my clothes and what I present to the world.

Here's a riddle for you: What can a broke, 18-year-old, 6ft 6in beanpole find to wear in a ready-made shop? Answer? Absolutely nothing. I was left to scour the markets, usually ending up at the Army and Navy surplus store.

Then I met Rod Stewart and the incredible blues artist Long John Baldry who, incidentally, was 6ft 7in. Imagine my initial envy, seeing this tall man in garb I'd only dreamt of.

I played with Rod for two years and I attribute much of my fashion savvy to him and John. Not only were they renowned for their style, they shared their secrets, showing me the ways of bespoke tailoring on the cheap in London's East End.

I saved up for one thing that fit properly - a pair of trousers, a shirt - at a time. I was hooked. Finally, I had clothes that fit.

Then I acquired a bolt of Levi's denim (fallen off the back of a lorry) and had my first pair of jeans tailor-made. I thought I was in heaven. They were my prized possession until my poor mum washed them and then put them in the dryer.

She actually cried when she saw how distraught I was. I spent the entire day on the verge of tears, lying in the bath, trying to stretch them back to their original size, to no avail.

I still love having my jeans tailor-made (at The Stronghold in Venice, California) but trust me, I'm a stickler for pre-washed, pre-dried denim.

I really wanted a costume that stood out when I played gigs.

It had to be original, not too hot to play in and cheap.

I still had my school gym kit and fencing gear. I wore the knickerbockers, tore the sleeves off the jacket to make a waistcoat, put my gym shoes on.

That was the start of my stage costume, captured on the iconic Rumours cover, and I've worn some version of that ever since.

In the early days of Fleetwood Mac we liked to push the naughtiness envelope. At one gig I came back from a toilet break with the lavatory chains, a ball attached at each end, wrapped around my waist.

I did a solo, hitting the balls into the microphone, just to make the lads laugh. Talk about spontaneous expression! The funny part is, my balls never went away.

I began wearing wooden balls in everyday life, attached to my belt - quite the conversation starter. To this day I never play without them.

I was only one of the pioneers for diversity. Sir Mick Jagger, David Bowie and countless others who wanted to be outrageous and self-expressed, pushed the envelope of what was considered "masculine". We opened minds by blowing minds.

I say hats off to the Lady Gagas of today's world, those who challenge society's expectations and encourage people who are different from the mainstream to stay that way. Bravo.

There are a lot of minds that still need opening and blowing and much work to be done.

I wanna see Mick walk on stage with Mickey mouse ears on his head. Just sayin':D

Mick Fleetwood: Sunday Daily Express Columns
 

By Mick Fleetwood

Mick Fleetwood: 50 years since the Marquee Club shaped and changed the course of my life.

IT WAS 50 years since The Beatles first played the Ed Sullivan Show, and 50 years since the Marquee Club shaped and changed the course of my life.
It was there I made life-long friends, saved sweethearts and survived fights. It was there I went from complete obscurity to learning the tools of my trade from the musical masters of our time.

The Marquee was the jewel of the London clubs. All the musicians wanted to play there. It was a jazz club until the brilliant, groundbreaking management of John Gee, who guided its metamorphosis into the seminal rock and roll/rhythm and blues club whose influence is still relevant today.

I have a first, stomach-turning memory of playing the Marquee with my band The Cheynes. We had no following and it was a miracle to have been asked to back the legendary blues star Sonny Boy Williamson. This giant of a man played a tiny harmonica and dressed in the coolest suits, all mismatched fabrics in wild designs. We had studied his albums and learned his every note by heart to prepare for this honour.

On the night Sonny Boy went totally off book, dropping into the middle eight at different places. We just didn’t get it and kept trying to play the song the way we had learned it. We even tried to correct him by corralling him back to the way the song was supposed to go.

This did not go over well. He stopped playing in mid-song and bawled us out in front of the audience for not following his lead, not listening or watching for his signals.

The Marquee Club relocated to Wardour Street, where I saw the greats: Zoot Money and Cyril Davies, Georgie Fame and the Blue Flames, the Stones, Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, Mick Taylor, The Yardbirds, The Moody Blues, John Mayall And The Bluesbreakers just to name a few. So many screaming fans, crammed into that tiny sweatbox!

Early Fleetwood Mac was actually banned for a time from playing the Marquee. We were opening for John Mayall And The Bluesbreakers. Jeremy Spencer and I had a running joke at every gig involving a sex toy (that we had named Harold) which would be ceremoniously hung on the top of my bass drum for the duration of the show.

People loved Harold but one night, Jeremy appeared on stage with Harold dangling out of his trousers! Suffice it to say that we were severely reprimanded and Harold would never again make an appearance at the Marquee. (Harold’s showbiz life came to a crashing end at an American Southern Baptist college, where we were very nearly arrested for his performance. Poor Harold was too much for them and, much to my wife’s chagrin, he ended his days on show, sitting on our pine corner cabinet).

It’s a funny thing, going back to an iconic place to commemorate the fact that something great happened there.

I remember walking into the Marquee on a rainy day in the early 1980s like a ghost, wandering through a unique moment in time. I was there at the club’s inception and became a part of its history. This was where I came up the ranks, this was where I met John McVie, this was where the rhythm section of Fleetwood Mac was born. I hold it in my heart with utmost gratitude.

Here is the page

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvbQKWAySh...rch+9+2014.jpg

The Scottish Daily Express has been doing a series of columns by Mick and here is the link to the Marquee Club entry dated March 9, 2014:

http://www.scottishdailyexpress.co.u...e-Marquee-Club

Mick's Motoring Nostalgia (MF Writes About Cars)
 

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.

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.

Mick Fleetwood Goes His Own Way: On the road
 

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

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

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

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

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.

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

Mick Fleetwood Column: Quotes Thoreau
 

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.

Cool piece. I Gree with Mick. :laugh:

nice! :thumbsup:

Yeah, that is one thing I don't think Christine will be saying any time soon. Tusk probably still isn't her cup of tea.

Michele

I don't know, the pig in poo attitude may have her come around to a great album.

Tusk has always been my favorite album. Masterpiece.

My favorite album also. It is a true Masterpiece!

Mine too! A masterpiece. :nod:

It would be interesting to hear Christine's current thoughts on Tusk, for sure. Last time she spoke about her favorite Mac albums, she cited the white (1975) album, and Rumours as their best efforts. I know you disagree, Michele, but I think Tusk contains some of the best material of Christine's career. I hate to hear her write off songs like Over & Over, Think About Me, Brown Eyes, etc.

Agreed. Tusk is in another league. I don't know that any album by any artist will ever be able to surpass it in my eyes.

I like 3 of her songs, espcially Think About Me. She probably doesn't dislike her own songs. Probably just doesn't like Lindsey's.

Michele

Mick Fleetwood on Running Away, Sunday Daily Express
 

April 13, 2014 by Mick Fleetwood, Sunday Daily Express

http://www.express.co.uk/comment/exp...y-Running-away

Mick Fleetwood Goes His Own Way: Running away

I WAS a three-time runaway as a kid from an English country boarding school. Early on, I decided to follow my dreams and made many, futile attempts to get the hell out.

I was 11 when I made my first escape. I had drawn a picture of what I thought a naked lady looked like and had determined the only way I could see one in the flesh was to become a doctor. Now a normal child would have waited, studied and gone through the necessary channels but, dreamer that I was, I resolved to find my way to London that instant to study medicine!

Each time I ran away, the goal was to get to London. The city held a mythic attraction; I'd stop there for a night or two as I went back and forth to boarding school.

I stayed with my art student sister and her boyfriend. They took me to Cafe des Artistes, where I had my first sip of champagne, contributing enormously to my fantasy world. I was obsessed by that place, with its brooding beatnik types listening to jazz and smoking cigarettes. It was dark, cool, the place to be and I was hooked. Above all, I wanted to re-create this place.

Since my nomadic inclinations showed no signs of slowing, my parents, in their infinite wisdom, finally got the hint and signed me up for a day school nearby. Once at home, I set about cleaning out the old stables at our house and Club Keller was born, my first stab at re-creating my adored Cafe des Artistes. We served cola and sandwiches. I had a radio and entertained local friends with music and by playing drums.

At 15 I knew I wanted be a drummer and, with my father's blessing, I flew the nest.

My first job was playing with my band, The Cheynes, at London's Mandrake Club, which in its heyday used to host the likes of Liz Taylor and Eddie Fisher. But when I had my nightly residency there, the only remains of that once-thriving scene were the yellowed, celebrity-signed portraits which adorned the walls. Still, it was a club, in a basement, thick with intrigue and underground seediness.

Today I own Fleetwood's, my lifelong dream realised as a combination restaurant/club in Lahaina, Maui (where I live when I am not touring). We have fabulous, rooftop dining and a stage. People come to enjoy great food and music. I play there often with my friends and part-time residents of the island, Steven Tyler and Billy Gibbons from ZZ Top and Willie K, a local talent.

I love it when people have a good time and enjoy themselves; it reminds me of those long ago days at Club Keller.

By the way, although I never stopped following my boyhood dreams, I let the "doctor" thing go. I soon learned that there are plenty of other ways to get to see naked women!

Ahh, the REAL reason he became a musician. LOL

This must be an excerpt from his upcoming book, I'd guess.

I think so too, but why release these beforehand, when there's no book to buy. It's a type of promotion, but I'm not sure what is being promoted. But that's a good thing I guess.

I wonder how long the Sunday Daily Express series is going to last. I guess I should have just started one thread on it and put all of his columns into that every week.

Michele

It's not too late for you to work your magic.

Eh, that assumes I can find all of them again. Michele

I wish the old fmlegacy site was still around, so I could look up what Texas festival Mick was referencing. Do any other fan sites that are still around document past tour schedules like the fmlegacy did? :shrug: