"Everything seemed so ordinarily superb until the encore, when Fleetwood took over for an agonizingly long drum solo. At first, he kept to his kit, grunting some incoherent commands into his mike. It wasn't clear what language he was speaking, and at times, it sounded as if he was barking like a dog. For the most part, his eyes were closed, but every once in awhile he would bug them wide open.
It only got worse as he left his drum set to come to the front of the stage and play pattycake on a drum machine inside his vest, all the while screaming and grunting, intermittently asking, "Are you with me?" The response cheers grew fainter and fainter as he went. He might have lost his mind completely at the end, when he started twiddling his fingers on his nonamplified bald head. "
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