Review Los Angeles and Austin Shows, 1976

[michelej1]

Fleetwood Mac: Universal Amphitheatre, L.A./Sunday Break II, Austin, Texas
Ken Barnes, Phonograph Record, October 1976

FOR FLEETWOOD MAC success is in the bag, and the bag is soft-rock. Progressive MOR, MOR/progressive, whatever your preference, it's the new formula for wide-acceptance 70's superstardom.

Your music (and your past credentials, of which Fleetwood have a surfeit) have to be hip enough ('Rhiannon', 'Over My Head') to secure the Top 40, and "Pop Adult" station listeners. Ever since Fleetwood Mac picked up Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham on waivers from Polydor, their music has fit the bill. 50 weeks in the Top Ten worth, to be exact.

So on opening night of a glamorous stand in home-base L.A., before a genteel post-teen capacity crowd – including many show-biz personalities and industry types – , you'd expect Fleetwood Mac to play it safe and soft. Wrong. Except for an exquisite acoustic 'Landslide', the set was uncompromisingly rocking, with a much harder edge than on the recent album.

The secret hard-rock ingredient is Buckingham. Without demeaning Peter Green, Jeremy Spencer or Danny Kirwan, illustrious Mac guitarists of the past, Buckingham is the best guitarist the group has ever had. He gets a jangly folk-rock sound out of one guitar that some groups can't get with three, and he's got those driving power chords down cold. 'Say You Love Me' sounded pure 1965, 'Spare Me A Little' had a new coda straight out of 'Wasn't Born To Follow' by the Byrds, and the solo on 'Rhiannon' screamed and soared like one of that Welsh goddess' magical birds.

Fleetwood's female front-liners were wonderful, too. Stevie Nicks gave 'Rhiannon' a raspier, rougher dimension, bordering on greatness; and Christine McVie was in sterling, velvet-voiced form throughout. Mick Fleetwood and John McVie, who comprise the rhythm section, were rock solid. Fleetwood's shattering percussive punctation on 'Rhiannon', in particular, added greatly to the songs' other-worldly edge.

In Austin, before 100,000 sun-stroked and rock-starved concertgoers who'd sat through Lynx (locals), Firefall, England Dan & John Ford Coley, Steve Miller, the Band, and Chicago, Fleetwood Mac did essentially the same set to wild response. It's a strangely structured set. Their three recent hit singles are disposed of within the first half-dozen songs. Old crowd-pleasers come either at the start ('Station Man', 'Spare Me A Little') or the middle ('Oh Well' and a ferocious 'Green Mannalishi'). Consequently, the end – the guitar-heavy 'World Turning', the lightweight though enjoyably Byrds-like 'Blue Letter', and the encores – don't hold up as well. In Austin, the last numbers consisted of the Buckingham/Nicks track 'Don't Let Me Down Again' (one of that fine duo's less noteworthy efforts) and a token bow to their departed idiosyncratic, flat-singing guitarist Bob Welch, 'Hypnotized' (whose chief function seemed to be lulling the crowd into a state of torpidity which ensured that no further encores would be demanded).

Anticlimatic and notwithstanding, Fleetwood Mac live display all the passion, instrumental fire, and vocal prowess anyone could want. Even more than on their superbly consistent album, in concert they prove their ascension to superstar-dom is deserved. The present lineup makes Fleetwood Mac one of the classiest, most versatile groups to hit the big time; their upcoming, crucial album should let us know whether they'll stay there.