Rhiannon Film Script And Demos That I Have Never Heard Of!!

[michelej1]

Originally Posted by CADreaming

I'm clueless to this conversation - can you elaborate or point me to where I can find it?

thanks

It's from this 1979 Rolling Stone article, here's around the time David mentioned, but I'm not sure what comment by the interviewer that he was focusing on:

A tiny poodle jumps into her lap. The puppy coughs, piteously. "Poor Ginny, she just can't get used to this air in Los Angeles. I'm real nervous about her."

She lifts Ginny, gently, by the neck. There is a thin, pinkish scar across the poodle's belly. "She just had a hysterectomy, and I'm afraid she's gonna open up the incision from all that coughing." A few minutes later, Stevie's younger brother, Chris, comes in. They confer briefly and come to a decision. That night, Ginny is put on a plane and sent to their mother's house in Phoenix. Stevie takes me downstairs to her music room because she wants to show me what her songs sound like before they are arranged by Buckingham. "I write my songs, but Lindsey puts the magic in, and there's no way -- well, I could pay him ten percent. I could walk up to him and thank him. If I were to play you a song the way I wrote it and gave it to them, and then play you the way it is on the album, you would see what Lindsey did."

The music room is dark; there are antique lamps draped with shawls, but she does not turn the lights on. And the tapes she ends up pulling out of her library are not rough Fleetwood Mac demos but works-in-progress for her solo project, a film and soundtrack album based on the myth of Rhiannon, the Welsh witch. Earlier in 1979, Nicks signed on as a solo artist with Modern records, a label headed by former boyfriend Paul Fishkin and Danny Goldberg. For a while the move prompted rumors that she was preparing to leave Fleetwood Mac.

"The legend of Rhiannon is about the song of the birds that take away pain and relieve suffering," she says. "That's what music is to me. I don't want any pain." She puts a cassette in the deck and sits down cross-legged on the carpet, between the stereo speakers. The music begins; a gentle roll of piano chords. Nicks' own version of "Rhiannon" is softer, more emotional than Fleetwood Mac's. "It's not a rock & roll song," she says, closing her eyes.

When the tape ends, she rummages in a drawer and pulls out a collection of photographs, her "private stash." "This is Rhiannon, without a doubt." The picture is of Nicks, onstage with the rest of Fleetwood Mac, in her witch costume. But it does not look like her, and I say so. "Well, you see, it turns. It goes right into..." She pulls out another photograph, of herself onstage with Lindsey. "This is the killer. And the pale shadow of Dragon Boy, always behind me, always behind me." She is speaking almost to herself, in a hoarse whisper. "You see, I just want to make you realize that when I get carried off, really carried off into Rhiannon, it doesn't necessarily mean I'm not carried off into Fleetwood Mac. 'Cause I'm just as carried off into them. Rhiannon has to wait. She just has to wait; that's all there is to it."

I ask Stevie why she refers to Rhiannon as she. "Well, because...I don't know why. She is some sort of reality. If I didn't know she was a mythological character, I would think maybe she lived down the street." Rehearsal starts very late tonight. When I get there, a little past 8:30, some powerful Afghanistan pot is being circulated, and a couple of people are trading long hits off a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream. Stevie is not around yet, neither is Christine, and the buzz around the crew is that neither of the women is feeling very well. John McVie shows up on crutches with a cast covering his left leg from the ankle to just below the knee. "I got drunk and kicked a door," he says whenever anybody asks. On a blackboard by the studio door is the schedule of rehearsals for the next two weeks; eight more left. Over this list, someone's scribbled: It's not that funny, is it?