Two continents, one girl
Things you should never believe:
The bank when they tell you your mortgage commitment letter will arrive any minute now, and me when I tell you I’m done traveling for a while.
Admittedly, I’m a hermit. A recluse. An enigmatic Howard Hughes-type without the money, fame, success, or fleet of Hollywood arm candy. No mystery either, for that matter.
The only thing that can still get me out of my house (sorry, apartment, STILL) these days is beautiful people playing pretty instruments while singing lovely songs.
It was announced this week that the band Crowded House will be embarking on a European tour next year, their first tour in a decade.
Before last year, I was not a fan of Crowded House so this announcement wouldn’t have registered on my radar.
Now, since his recruitment into that-band-I-swear-I-will-not-reference-in-this-post-but-rhymes-with-Meetwood-Flac in 2018, I have a greater-than-slight crush on Crowded House’s lead singer and guitarist, Neil Finn.
Exhibit A, Your Honor:
And touring next year in the states is Mike Campbell with his band The Dirty Knobs.
I adore this guy. I’ve had a greater-than-slight crush on him and his guitars since his recruitment into…that band in 2018.
Exhibit B, Your Honor:
This last tour by… you know who really took it out of me. I've been home for a month now and I’m still recovering from it emotionally.
Just last week I declared dramatically to my cat that I will not be going anywhere for a long while. Please. Don’t even look at me. I am not ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.
Right now I’m wondering how best to juggle two tours on two different continents.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Cover photo by Element5 Digital from Pexels.
Meeting Mike Campbell (When rock stars conspire)
March 20, 2019
The plan was for Fleetwood Mac’s tour photographer Justin to pick me and my sister Stephanie up at our seats at 7:20 and take us backstage to Mike Campbell's dressing room.
By 7:15, my blood pressure had plummeted from sheer anxiety, and I was starting to see spots. Just like in the cartoons. It’s no small thing for me to know I will soon be backstage at a Fleetwood Mac show, and breathing became a voluntary act. I was running the real risk of passing out before Justin even arrived, so I focused on inhaling and exhaling, deeply and slowly, and hoped for the best.
And the best, I got.
Everyone who knows me and anyone else unfortunate enough to come across my Twitter account in April through June of last year knows how crushed I was when Fleetwood Mac fired Lindsey Buckingham and replaced him with Mike Campbell of Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and Neil Finn from Crowded House and Split Enz.
CRUSHED.
It was an unholy occurrence in my world, and, when the news broke, I quickly declared I was finished with the band.
(I could write a complete dissertation on why I believed and still believe Lindsey deserved better from his four bandmates and friends—the entire situation made even more tragic by the news that Lindsey underwent emergency open heart surgery last month that resulted in damage to his vocal chords that may or may not be permanent—but I will spare you that here.)
Justin arrived a little after 7:20 and off we were to Mike’s dressing room, so, yeah, things have changed pretty significantly for me over the past year. I’ve come to truly adore the new guys in the band, not only as men and musicians, but also as members of Fleetwood Mac.
Breathing was a challenge but my eyesight was perfectly fine. My eyes miss nothing in this kind of heightened emotional state, and as we arrived outside Mike’s room (labeled simply “MC”) I saw the door directly next to it was labeled “NF” and realized that it was Neil Finn’s dressing room.
Okay. Maintain, Krissy…
Mike’s door was closed but Neil’s was slightly ajar. Justin was explaining that Mike was finishing up with a vocal warm-up and would be out soon when I heard Neil’s voice from inside his dressing room.
Neil is from New Zealand. Men with adorable accents get me anyhow, but men with adorable accents who sing and play guitar, and do those things in Fleetwood Mac? That’s... well, it’s very nice.
Once I heard Neil’s Kiwi accent in person, I really, really had to keep mindful about the breathing thing to avoid passing out right there on the dingy concrete floor inside the Times Union Center in Albany.
It was at this point that Mike’s beautiful wife, Marcie Campbell, emerged from his dressing room to greet us. She was so lovely and offered us both warm and welcoming hugs and my anxiety finally began to dissipate, which was a good thing because here’s where the night really started getting good.
Earlier in the evening, I’d checked in with Leilani from Tazzy Fund, Marcie and Mike’s animal rescue. The meet and greet experience came courtesy of Tazzy Fund, and Leilani was the one who coordinated the meeting. She is such a sweetheart. I’d called her once we got to Albany to get last minute details on where to be and at what time. She’d told me on the phone that when she told Marcie that I was their meet and greet for the night, Marcie exclaimed, “I know her!”
Cut to me blinking spastically…
I’ve become a fairly vocal supporter of both Mike and Neil as members of Fleetwood Mac on Instagram. In order to reconcile the loss of Lindsey from the band and accept Mike and Neil as a part of it, I’ve taken to referring to the latter as “the stepdads” on social media. And, as it turns out, the Campbells are, not only aware of my Instagram page, but appreciative of the support I’ve given to the men there.
As we waited for Mike, Marcie told me how they loved the whole stepdads thing and thought it was a really great way to look at the situation. As we were talking about this, as my mind was grappling with the fact that these people actually know of me, Neil appeared in the doorway of his dressing room, just off Marcie’s shoulder. He was completely stage-ready except for his suit jacket, which was hanging by the door, and the reason for him appearing before me. (Yes, just me. The rest of the world fell away for a moment.)
As Neil threw the jacket on, he glanced out the door and spotted me and did sort of a double take, as if he recognized me but wasn’t exactly sure how or why.
Could be a good sign, could be a bad sign when you're known for following musicians around the world...
I’d talked to Neil on Twitter a couple times previous to this night. A song he wrote with his son called “Ghosts” is featured in my short film, Murder Creek, and I’d used Twitter to reach out and ask for permission to use it. He also responded to an open letter I wrote to Mick Fleetwood and posted to Twitter last summer. (So when I said I could write an entire dissertation on the Firing of Lindsey BuckinghamTM, I meant I already had…)
Neil’s message to me was so kind and thoughtful. It touched me deeply. When nobody else in “my” band seemed to care about my pain, or even my existence, Neil took the time to, not only read my letter, but respond to it with empathy. His response to that letter is why I ultimately decided it was time to give him a chance, and I’m so grateful. He’s one of the greatest singer/songwriters in the world, and a true gentleman. In an ironic twist, his music further helped me through the Lindsey SituationTM.
Also, he is adorable:
Neil on stage with Fleetwood Mac in Buffalo, NY. March 26, 2019. Photo by me.
And there he was in the doorway of his dressing room. Looking at me.
The breathing thing became an issue again as I contorted my face into what I hoped was a smile. Only beginning to now grapple with Neil being right there, while still coming to terms with the fact that the Campbells knew of me, Mike’s door opened and out walked Mike-freaking-Campbell in the slickest suit I’ve ever seen any man wear. He, too, was completely stage-ready, which, of course, made sense since it was about 7:35 and show time is 8:00
Mike shook both our hands and kissed the tops of each one (omg) and escorted us into his dressing room.
This next 30 second stretch plays out in slow motion in my mind and will forevermore. With my hand inside Mike’s, being led into his dressing room, Marcie turned and poked her head into Neil’s room and I heard, “Hey, stepdad two, you want to join us?”
Join me in freaking out, won’t you?
It became clear that these beautiful people had conspired to make this the absolute most perfect evening for me by giving me the opportunity to meet, not just one of the stepdads, but both of them.
Inside, Mike offered us a drink “water or wine or whatever you want?” and I did my best to ignore the fangirl in me who was smacking me and squealing, “Ask him if he can turn the water INTO wine!”
I said yes to the wine and Mike got really excited. I might be paraphrasing, but he said, “My kind of girl! You didn’t even hesitate on the wine!” and set about pouring us each a glass.
Steph was drawn right away to Mike and Marcie’s little dog, India, who was chilling on the couch. This is the first time in my life I didn’t immediately seek out the pet in the room during a social gathering.
Mike handed the glasses around and we gathered in this sort of semi-circle around the coffee table in the room and, just as I took my first sip, in walked Neil Finn and completed our circle.
Neil Finn, with his eyes and the accent and the hair.
My first instinct was to chug the wine. This is too much. Chug it!
But I refrained. Instead, I set the glass down and smiled and extended my hand to Neil as I introduced myself and he said, with that voice and in that accent, “Oh, how about a hug?”
Well, IF YOU INSIST, MR. FINN.
Since I had already had my arm extended to shake his hand, I ended up hugging him under his arms, around his chest and torso and...sigh. That was really nice. As we withdrew, I managed to gesture to Steph and, I think, introduce her. I said something about her, anyhow. Steph can probably tell you better than me what was said by me here.
After intros, we edged back out into our circle: Steph, Neil Finn, the Campbells, and I, and Neil said, still with that voice and in that accent, “I thought that was you out in the hallway but I wasn’t positive.”
He had recognized me out in the hall. Neil Finn had recognized me.
Fangirl me was absolutely pummeling me at this point: “OMG ASK HIM IF YOU CAN TOUCH HIS HAIR!!!!”
Neil’s hair is a genuine work of art. That night, it was sticking out in every feasible direction as if he’d just rolled out of bed and called it stage-ready. The hair only adds to his boyish charm that is almost overwhelming and rivaled only by his obvious shyness.
Both men, in fact, were shy. It was the first time I didn’t feel insecure about my own shyness because I felt it from them too. Steph can back me up on this: it almost felt like we were the famous ones in the room. They acted as if they couldn’t believe we were there to meet them. Thank god for Marcie controlling the conversation or we might have just stood around blushing at each other and playing with India.
I’m not going to go into too much detail about the next few minutes because the things they said were so special and mean so much to me that I want to keep them for myself (and Steph and a handful of fellow fangirl friends I’ve already told every single detail of this to). Suffice it to say, they went out of their way to show their appreciation for the support I’ve given them and their gratitude for giving them a chance.
It was such a dream and time wasn’t really a thing I was aware of in the room. Part of me will always be in that room. But Neil stayed for about ten minutes and then he had to go because it was nearly show time. He held out his hand as he was leaving and so then I said, “How about a hug?” and he laughed and I laughed and we hugged and now we’re best friends.
Mike was in no rush at all. I’d gathered from his social media that Fireball whiskey was his drink of choice (if you’re in Fleetwood Mac, I’m going to know everything about you eventually, so just roll with it…) and so I’d snuck some tiny bottles of it through security with the thought that he might do a shot with me. I hate the stuff but obviously some things are worth the sacrifice.
When he saw I had Fireball he got really excited again and said, “How did you know??” I asked if he wanted to a shot but that I understood if he didn’t since it was so close to show time and he waved his hand dismissively at that and said, “Hell yeah, let’s do one!”
So, empty belly full of Mike’s wine and with the scent of Neil Finn still in the room, I did a shot of Fireball with Mike Campbell. It was right after this that Justin snapped this photo, as we washed the whiskey down with the wine like completely responsible adults.
After giving us the rest of the bottle of wine in Solo cups so that we could carry them with us out on to the floor, Mike took us to the stage to look at his guitars. On the walk, I told him I’d been waiting 20 years to get backstage at a Fleetwood Mac show and he laughed and gestured around the drab hall and dark rafters and said, “Glamorous, isn’t it??” I also had a wonderful conversation with him about writing along the way and I’ll cherish that always.
Literally in the back of the stage now, with an arena full of fans waiting for Fleetwood Mac to start, Mike showed me Neil’s guitars first. I asked if Neil’s red vintage Gretsch FireBird was nearby, because I love it, but figured it was probably up on stage by then because Neil uses it in the opening number. But it was still there, right there, perched alone on its stand at the base of the stairs, like a king, and I touched it.
Mike was very excited to show off his guitars. (Mike talking about his guitars is exactly like me talking about Fleetwood Mac.) I’d told him earlier that I had an affinity for his Gretsch guitars and so he made sure to show me those. When he got to “the white Gretsch” as I so ignorantly referred to it because I haven’t learned all the names of his guitars yet, I told him I loved that one and he says, he goes, wait for it: “Here! Wear it!” and he PUT IT ON ME.
(Research since tells me it’s a 59’ FALCON and MAN, I wish I had known that when I was in front of him. What a cool name.)
Fangirl me had passed out shortly after Neil walked into the dressing room so she was quiet, thankfully. Alone with my thoughts, I struggled to remember a chord to play, any chord, so I didn’t look like a complete fraud in front of Mike Campbell, and my fingers quickly found the D chord. Whew.
I wish I remember more of the conversation at this point, but I was just so excited to be in those moments. Mike told me something about the tab markers on the neck of the Falcon. He’s got tiny stripes of black electrical tape on them for some damn reason that my mind isn’t allowing me to remember right now. It was something about the stage lights.
He showed me his Gibson SG next and mentioned it’s the same model that Angus Young plays, and my unfiltered mouth blurted out, “That guy is so little!” and Mike and Marcie both laughed. Belly laughs. Like we were actually friends and I had made a real funny.
I told them that when I was a kid, I thought Angus played some sort of giant custom guitar because it looked so big on him but eventually realized he was just a little guy. Mike nodded and said, “Yeah he comes up to about here!” and held his hand up to his midsection.
Last came Mike’s Rickenbacker. Oh, it’s so pretty. Again, he put it on me and said I could “play it if you want.”
Again, I wish I could remember more of what he said in this moment but... oh well. Someday it will return to me. Probably at the worst possible moment, and I’ll blurt it out to whoever is unfortunate enough to be near me at the time.
By this time, it was well past 8 o’clock and the arena was full and Mike is still playing guitars with me. Someone came and told he really had to go now, and Mike seemed almost apologetic that he had to leave us. We took one last photo as a group, and then he thanked me again and KISSED MY CHEEK AND SAID I WAS BEAUTIFUL and then he was gone.
I’ve never felt beautiful for even a day in my life, but Mike Campbell said I’m beautiful, so I guess I’m beautiful now.
And that is the story of meeting Mike Campbell that, thanks to conspiring rock stars and a beautiful woman named Marcie, became meeting Mike Campbell and Neil Finn and playing with their guitars.
It was quite possibly the greatest night of my life.
Lindsey Buckingham at the Riviera Theatre
Originally posted to my Patreon page on November 29, 2019.
The night started with a snowstorm and ended after a blizzard of energy, excitement, and emotion.
Lindsey Buckingham, and it kills me to have to type this next part, former guitarist, singer/songwriter, and musical architect for the legendary rock band, Fleetwood Mac, came to the historic Riviera Theatre in North Tonawanda last night on a solo trek backing his newly released solo compilation, Solo Anthology: The Best of Lindsey Buckingham. It was his first trip to the Buffalo area as a solo artist; the first time I’ve gone to see him and gotten to sleep in my own bed afterward.
I should add a disclaimer here that it would be difficult for me to say that anything Lindsey Buckingham sings and plays is anything less than perfect. I simply adore him. That said, damn near everything Lindsey Buckingham sings and plays is perfect. It just is. Period. He is a musical force.
It isn't just what he plays either. It's how he plays. The finger-picking style of playing guitar is most often seen used by folk or country artists. Somehow Buckingham uses this style, adapted by him to include all five fingers of his right hand, to unleash rock and roll fire from his favored Turner model electric guitar, as well as the army of other guitars he uses throughout his set. He is both rhythm and lead guitarist, simultaneously. I’ve been watching him play now for 21 years and his playing never ceases to amaze me. It never will. I will never not appreciate how hard his guitar tech, Stanley LaMendola, a phenomenal guitarist in his own right, works just off stage to keep those guitars in tune and supplied to Buckingham on cue.
Buckingham didn’t mention Fleetwood Mac by name. The closest he got was when he explained how he’s someone who has always preferred to look forward instead of behind and how that’s what they were doing with this tour. His sincere appreciation for our support for him and the new record was palpable.
In the wake of his dismissal from the band that he helped steer into rock and roll infamy, much has been said in the media and the Fleetwood Mac fandom about Buckingham’s perfectionist nature as an artist and the sometimes abrasive temperament that rears its head because of it. Of course, it's a very different thing to be his fan than it is to be his band mate, but I had the great pleasure to meet him last night (and last month in Pittsburgh) and Lindsey Buckingham, the man, comes across as a soft-spoken, gentle sweetheart.
I interrupt this professional review by Writer Kristen for a few words from Fangirl Kristen:
I went into the meet & greet this time without thinking about what I was going to say to Lindsey. I beat my anxiety back for weeks and made a conscious effort to not examine to death what I would say to him and how I would say it. I was just going to be myself.
And it worked!
I explained to him that I was so excited to meet him in Pittsburgh that I acted like a moron and forgot to introduce myself, and he chuckled and told me he didn't think that makes me a moron. I finally told him that my name is Kristen. As we shook hands, he noticed his pick that I was wearing on a leather cord around my neck, which he gave me on my birthday down in Nashville in 2012. His eyes lit up and he tapped it, telling me he "liked that very much!"
We took our picture and then, noticing how out of place his healthy southern Californian glow was in a room full of pasty Buffalonians, I asked him if he was enjoying our weather. (It was a blizzard outside.) He rolled his eyes and grumbled and said sarcastically, "Yeah, it's really cool." I laughed and elbowed him gently and said, "Ha ha, cool, right?" and he did that dorky laugh thing that he does that was so endearing it would have made me cry if I wasn't this new and improved Kristen. I indeed held it together though and wished him a good show and that was that.
See, this is what happens when I don't agonize over what I'm going to say and just be myself. Good things!
Back to Writer Kristen...
Aside from a slightly overzealous fan in the crowd who shouted “F*ck the Mac when we got you, kid!” near the end of the night, transforming this Buffalo suburb briefly into Boston, apparently, Fleetwood Mac wasn’t mentioned at all.
It was on all our minds though. At least, it was on mine.
Fleetwood Mac is my forever favorite band. I will always love them. Their music is deeply ingrained in me. It’s a crucial element of my soul. They are my soul.
I made the decision to see them with their new lineup in Cleveland last month, and I’m glad I did. I still love them. Even after this. It’s impossible for me to not. I tried and I can’t do it. But it’s been a painful eight months coming to terms with the fact that Buckingham is no longer a part of them.
If it’s this way for me, I can only imagine how difficult this has been for Buckingham himself.
His quiet defiance while playing through the Mac song “Never Going Back Again” hit me hard. As was the case last month in Pittsburgh, it felt very final. The song that was once about a lost love is now about a lost band and lost friends. Four friends with whom he experienced and survived things that nobody else in his life ever can or ever will be able to understand.
It must be so isolating. His defiance during "Never Going Back Again" was clear and strong but it was also forced. He has no choice but to look forward. He has no choice but to never go back again. It was palpable on his face, as we cheered him through the final parts of the song, how much he needs us, and I think, I hope, our cheers let him know how very much we still need him.
His final song hit me the hardest. He chose the aptly-named ditty “Treason” off his brilliant 2008 solo album, Gift of Screws. “Deep down there’s freedom. Deep down there will be a reason. At the end of the season, we will rise from this treason.”
Written and released years ago, the song has never been more appropriate to play than now. Buckingham has been a prophetic writer for most of his career, starting way back on the highly-underappreciated in its time but now cult classic 1973 album, Buckingham Nicks. It’s almost as if he’s always known, deep down, that it would all come to this.
Apologies to Mr. Buckingham for standing right in front of him and sobbing as he played through this one last night. But it was like watching one-fifth of my soul floundering while it took special care to reassure me that everything would be okay, in the end.
Highlights of the show for me (if I can't choose the entire show) were the album versions of “Slow Dancing,” “Holiday Road” (off the National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation soundtrack), “Go Insane,” and the crushingly beautiful gems, "Not Too Late" "Down on Rodeo" and “Shut Us Down,” the last of which came from his 2006 solo record, Under The Skin.
This is another song that has new meaning now. “Oh, you and I we sure can dream of conversations that might have been... And even after all these years, I can't even see you clear... Oh, I won't shut us down. No, I will stay around. As long as I can. As long as I can…”
Two weeks ago during his set, after a long and thoughtful pause, Buckingham dedicated this song to Stevie Nicks, his childhood friend, former girlfriend, and now former band mate; the woman rumored to be responsible for his ouster from Fleetwood Mac, after allegedly declaring that she never wanted to share a stage with him again.
That dedication might be all that needs to be said about Lindsey Buckingham, the man.
Fleetwood Mac in Cleveland 10-26-18
Originally posted to my Patreon page on October 27, 2018.
Disclaimer: This is a conspiracy free review. To those who insist that the positive reviews coming out of these shows are somehow tainted, I received no money from Irving Azoff, Fleetwood Mac or anybody else to write this. In fact, I forked over approximately a shit ton of money in order to be at this show, to witness for myself what this new line-up has to offer. This is my honest review as someone who has attended a show.
And, to quote their closing song last night, I’d do it all over again.
As soon as I bought my ticket last week, I knew that I had made the right decision. I knew going to a show was the right thing for me. The black pit that had been anchoring me to angst for the last six months disappeared. I had to see John and Christine again. I couldn’t not, no matter what had happened with Lindsey. They’re too important to me. I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t go, no matter what other feelings I might end up having about the other people on stage with them, I knew that I had to go, at least for The McVies.
So, let me wrangle up and escort the elephant from the room: Topping my list of trepidations going in was how I would feel about Mike Campbell and Neil Finn once I was at the show. I have become a pretty big fan of both these men over these last six months, somehow, despite their new gig replacing one of the most important men of my life, in the most important band of my life, after it had been viciously torn apart without warning. (Dramatic enough?) It’s one thing for me to dig Neil’s music or enjoy Mike with the Heartbreakers, but witnessing them in the flesh on stage where Lindsey once stood, playing and singing the songs Lindsey once played and sang, his songs? I honestly wasn’t sure, man...
But those crickets.
As soon as the lights dimmed and the crickets ramped up, I felt that overwhelming rush of magic. It’s like Pavlov’s dogs. Fleetwood’s dogs? Maybe Mick’s just got subliminal messages hidden in those damn cricket sounds (loooove uuus buuuy moooore stufff), I don’t know, but my heart swelled and every feeling of apprehension I had going into the arena disappeared. Just like that. I saw their silhouettes appear in the darkness against the backdrop, six silhouettes, and I felt nothing but love. There was a time and a place for the anger and hurt and pain that came from the disbandment of the Rumours 5 but it wasn’t last night in Cleveland, Ohio. Because The Mac were back, and I was lucky enough to be there to witness it again.
And I'll fight anyone who claims Mike Campbell can't play the guitar.
These six tore through a set list that, on paper, hadn’t made much sense to me at first. When the set list appeared on social media after opening night, I thought it was a bit of a mess, to be honest. I couldn’t see how the show would flow smoothly with those songs in that order. Part of me thinks I was just being petty and looking for things to pick on. Actually, I know I was being petty, because I was disturbed by the fact that I wasn’t hating what was coming out in the videos of those first shows. In fact, I liked some of it.
And the show flowed just fine because it was over far too soon for my liking.
I was in section 3, row 1, seat 1, so I was closest to Mike and Neil. Yep. Smack dab between the stepdads.
I’ve made no secret lately that I’ve come to quite adore Neil Finn. I think he is just the cutest - always seemingly happy, always smiling, funny, and his music is beautiful. All signs indicate that this man is genetically incapable of writing a bad song.
I know that now. In April, I did not. I knew Don’t Dream It’s Over and knew of Crowded House, but I didn’t know Neil by name. So to go from angrily shouting, “Who the FUCK is Neil Finn?” six months ago when it was announced he was joining up in place of Lindsey to going without food (not really) in order to stand within reaching (and “woo hoo Neil!”’ing) distance of him last night? I’ve got a serious case of emotional whiplash. (Shout out to my friend Tracy for inventing, “You Make Loving Finn”.)
Neil has emerged as a leader in this group. As a new fan, it makes me proud to see him step up for these people that I've loved for so long. His voice is strong and his confidence is apparent. The crowd welcomed his Don't Dream It's Over, which was rivaled only by Landslide in crowd participation. His vocals on Danny Kirwan's Tell Me All The Things You Do were stellar. He and Christine teamed up for that one, and what a nice McFinn lovers treat. His I Got You, a duet with Stevie, was one of my favorite songs of the night.
Neil has a unique and spontaneous energy and style, he's down right bouncy at times, even stealing Stevie's signature twirl from time to time. That brought a genuine smile to my face. He reminded me a lot of Paul McCartney, especially with that floppy head of hair. I got a laughy-smile and a nod from him when he caught me watching him and I waved to him like a moron.
Not even Second Hand News, Monday Morning, or Go Your Own Way pissed me off. I thought for sure I would have some sort of a meltdown during those songs. But I didn’t. I thought Neil did a more than fine job on them. We can argue ad nauseum about the impact of him singing these songs with Stevie, as they don’t have the romantic history together or any history together, and those arguments have some validity.
But there seems to be a genuine chemistry developing between these two: band mates who appreciate each other. There will never be that intense, biting chemistry between them, no. But, hot damn, sometimes that tension was too much. It certainly was in 2015. It took seeing the freshness and freedom this new lineup enjoys together to really realize how much tension there was on that last tour. There were times when it was clear Stevie would rather have been anywhere but on that stage with Lindsey. We know now that was exactly true. And so yes the argument can be made that it should have been her to exit Fleetwood Mac. I’ve made the argument myself, more than once.
But this is where we’re at now. And as much as that woman can piss me off, she did her Gold Dust Woman dance right in front of me last night and I’ll be damned if I didn’t cheer for her. I didn’t think I did but I just watched the video and I sure did. At 70 years old, that woman is sexier than I ever have been or ever will be, and there’s something undeniably amazing about watching her that up close cast her spells on the crowd.
Props where they’re due but, you know...whatever.
Mick did his drum solo during World Turning, including coming out front of the stage with his bongo. So, there was that.
Stevie dedicated Landslide to the service dog of a woman she’d met recently at a hand doctor’s appointment. Neil finger-picked Landslide and sang along to himself, smiling every time the crowd’s singing roared. At the end of the song, the duo came together, arms outstretched toward each other. A roadie stepped right into my line of sight at this moment (grrr) but I think Neil kissed her on the cheek. Maybe they just squeezed hands but there appeared to be a leaning in. I wonder what it’s like to be these people whose every actions we scrutinize like this?
I’ve known of Mike Campbell for as long as I can remember, and I’ve never had anything but nice thoughts for him, but my focus was always on Tom Petty in that world. I knew Mike was a talented guitarist but I didn’t really appreciate it until he started playing “my” Fleetwood Mac’s songs. And come to find out, he’s an absolute sweetheart too. Halfway through Dreams last night, early on in the show, he handed me the pick he was playing with. He leaned over and held it out, waiting for me to reach up and take it from him.
Looking up at him as I took it, through his sunglasses, I could see that he was looking me right in the eyes. I can’t imagine he knew how much I adore Lindsey (unless he recognized Lindsey’s pick around my neck, heh) or how much I fought attending a show, but it sure did seem like a gesture of appreciation from him to me for giving him a chance. It was so touching. Later on in the show, he tossed picks out to other people but, as far as I could see, I was the only one he handed one to directly. I’ll remember that moment always. It was yet another moment in a long line of magical moments care of Fleetwood Mac.
This is going to be the hardest part for me. I’ve been saying since (reluctantly) getting on board with the new guys that, no, they aren’t Lindsey, but that doesn’t have to mean they’re bad. It’s just a different sound than with Lindsey but it’s... okay. I say now: Mike and Neil are good. Very good. Period. On their own and when they’re playing together. They deserve to be talked about in their own right without comparisons to Lindsey, but of course those comparisons are inevitable and understandable given the situation. In any case, they were a dynamic team and there's a genuine warmth between them. They seem to truly like each other and their roles in the band.
It felt like a Fleetwood Mac show to me. And I would suspect the capacity crowd felt much the same, judging from the cheers and applause they received. Cleveland brought the house down for all of Fleetwood Mac. I never quite understood what they were going for with the “new band” thing. I thought it was a slap in the face, frankly. But I get it now: Love us or hate us but do it because of what we are, not because of what was. I find myself hoping these six manage to make new music together so that we’re given a genuine opportunity to do just that.
Lastly: Was it a technically perfect show? No. I’m going back through the videos I recorded: Christine’s voice isn’t what it used to be. Stevie’s voice is strong but her range is kaput. Mick has Taku to supplement his sound. An amp blocked him from my view for most of the night, but I think John is still over there be-bopping away all on his own but he’s John. He's got this. He was even smiling last night?
But here’s the thing: These imperfections make it that much more special. And these imperfections would exist even if Lindsey was still in the band. And for this fan, that's okay.
I wasn’t even alive yet when Fleetwood Mac was in their heyday. I don’t recognize that Fleetwood Mac as my Fleetwood Mac. I’ve only ever known and loved an aging Fleetwood Mac. And like the Skin Horse tells the Velveteen Rabbit: “When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real...Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”
I understand. I heard none of these imperfections while I was in that arena. I felt only magic. Fleetwood Mac will never be ugly to me because they have become Real. I have loved them for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loved. I will adore them always. I will love them long after their eyes drop out and they become very shabby. I will choose to see Christine sing Everywhere, and Little Lies, and You Make Loving Fun with an imperfect voice over a perfect voice that is not Real.
So maybe it’s the music itself, in the end. I thought Fleetwood Mac meant Lindsey, Stevie, Christine, Mick & John to me. To the lost girl who discovered this band 21 years ago, it will always mean those five to me.
But grown up me gets lost too. It gets a bit chaotic in here at times and Fleetwood Mac has always been able to calm me down. It did it again last night. I had nothing but soul-cleansing tears left for them by the time they got to Free Fallin’ and that’s not even a Fleetwood Mac song. But it was Fleetwood Mac playing it, a Fleetwood Mac that now includes Tom Petty’s lifelong friend and musical partner. And with Tom’s image throughout the years flashing on the screen, a story high behind them, it was a glaring reminder that none of this will last forever.
So I’ll appreciate it. I’ll appreciate them, the five and the six, for as long as we are these energies here in this life together.
Nothing else really matters for me, in the end.
Lindsey Buckingham living is best life in Pittsburgh
Originally posted to my Patreon page on October 20, 2018.
I have to get the fangirl part of this out of the way. Apologies for those who only came here to read about Lindsey Buckingham’s show. I’ll try to be brief.
GUYS. I met Lindsey Buckingham! I’ve been waiting 21 years and it finally happened and it was everything I dreamed it would be.
To be perfectly honest, I was terrified to meet him. I’ve had a nasty habit of putting people on pedestals throughout my life and just about every one of them has come tumbling down in fiery ruins by now. In a Landslide, even. Ahem.
I was afraid I would finally come face to face with Lindsey and he wouldn’t live up to the ridiculously high standards I’ve held him to for two decades and a year (and two months but who’s counting?). What if he was cranky? I’d be cranky having to meet and greet that many people who have invested so much of their hearts and souls in me. How exhausting. What if he was cranky and it completely shattered my illusion (ahem) of him?
No need to worry. He couldn’t have been sweeter. He hugged me as I approached him and as we hugged, I told him I’d been waiting 21 years to meet him. We were cheek to cheek here. This is important. As we withdrew from the hug, he said, bless him, “well it’s so great to finally meet you,” in that beautiful voice. And as we situated ourselves for the photo op, he thanked me for coming and I think I thanked him for coming and then:
I wished him a good show and then retreated to the door, keeping it together just long enough to get out of his line of sight before I started sobbing.
I’ve yammered on ad nauseum why he is so special to me. I’ll spare you now. But this was...just incredible. And in the light of the current Fleetwood Mac drama, it was exactly what I needed to see and feel from him in order for me to move on. It was like dad telling me it’s okay to still love mom even if they couldn’t be together anymore. Now, I’m 38. I realize how silly that sounds, but it’s a good analogy, nonetheless. He’s doing fine. He’s happy. He’s at peace. Heartbroken, yes, but he has no hate in his heart for the other four. He’s genuinely happy to be moving forward as he is, and grateful to those of us who support him. And I feel like I can finally breathe again after six months.
Opening act J.S. Ondara did about six of his songs and it was only him and his acoustic guitar. He did one song a cappella and it was beautiful. He was a delight. Snappy dresser. Humble and quietly funny. Before each song, he’d tell us the name of it and then say, “You’ve never heard it”. It was a slow start to a rock show, something Ondara noted by saying it was his job to depress us so that Lindsey could cheer us back up, but his music is very pretty. He’s a talented guy, and how special to be given this opportunity to open for a man like Lindsey Buckingham?
Okay! On to Lindsey’s show. After a brief intermission after Ondara finished, Lindsey’s band walked out on stage, followed soon after by Lindsey himself. He was greeted to thunderous applause and cheers and about half of the theatre stood for him. Me included. Obviously.
The set list was perfect and they moved through the songs one after the other, with Lindsey pausing to speak here and there between the songs. What struck me most was how many times he thanked us for being there. He must have thanked us ten times throughout the show. His sincerity shown through and touched my heart and I’m so glad I was there to experience it.
ALSO, he barks. Yep. Literally. He literally barks along with the dog at the end of “Holiday Road” and he is such a nerd I can hardly even stand it. I love him. “Bark bark, BARK. Bark bark, BARK! Bark like a dog!” And of course I did. Duh. And then he did this, not even semi-erotic, but full-on-erotic moan at the end of the song and...let’s just say it was nice. He threw us one of those nerdy smile/laugh things as the song ended before he retrieved his next guitar for the next song.
Shout out to Lindsey’s guitar tech, Stanley, by the way, who was working his ass off keeping all those guitars in order and in tune and passing them off to Lindsey in time. I think Lindsey switched guitars for just about every song, save his three song acoustic set. But he might have even switched guitars then. I can’t remember. I’m still thinking about the barking. In any case, Stan is an unsung hero in Buckingham’s world.
I was worried how the acoustics would be in a theatre setting, but there was no need. The sound was incredible. The band was incredible. These guys were beasts. And Lindsey had an absolute blast. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him that free and relaxed and, dare I say it, spontaneous? It was so special. He received huge applause after every song and many people stood for him as well. The ones who didn’t stand, I attribute to the tightened security. Seriously. These guys were strict. I know they were just doing their jobs but... what do you mean I can’t stand? I get the no pictures thing but, really? We can’t stand? Honestly, these guys looked like they would toss you out if you sneezed. Who doesn’t let people go to the stage during Go Your Own Way?? You know Lindsey wants us to strum his guitar during it... right?
What stood out most to me was this performance of Never Going Back Again. Of course we were all thinking of Fleetwood Mac during it. Lindsey too, clearly. I’ve never seen such a passionate performance of that song. His final “I’m never going back again” was powerful, resolute, and it felt very final. Of course that made me cry. I needed a Gatorade after the show to replenish my fluids. Never say never, of course, especially with those five people, but this change feels permanent.
I noticed something during the guitar outro for I’m So Afraid, and I realize now that it was there throughout the entire show: A genuine happiness from Lindsey to be there performing for us. I have always, always felt angst and pain from him during his performances, like a palpable pain resided just underneath that unending jittery energy of his, and his performances were his only way to release it, if only temporarily.
Thursday night there was something different there. I think it was contentment. A full-circle completion that he is proud of, perhaps. The knowledge that he did everything he could to preserve the legacy Fleetwood Mac created over those 43 years together, and generate a different outcome for them and for their fans. A hopefulness, because he still has so much more to share with us, and a delight that we are still here for him, waiting patiently for whatever it is he has to share.
I’ll finish with this: Watching Lindsey Buckingham play guitar the way he does, watching him belt out songs and stomp around the stage with the energy of a man less than half his age, is the closest thing to what is called God that I’ll ever experience. That’s not hyperbolic fangirl nonsense. It’s truth. There is something wholly divine about that man’s talent. I am not a religious person. I believe in the Universe above all else. But if what is called God means awe and if it means love and peace and if God is the knowledge that there is something greater than me out there that can save my soul, this is as close to God as I will get. And I’m here for it, amen.
An open letter to myself
Originally posted to my Patreon page on July 23, 2018.
I embark on this letter knowing full well the reactions I might receive for it, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. This needs to be said for my own peace of mind and it's not easy to do. I speak only for myself and I ask that you bear with me and read this through in its entirety. Of course, your thoughts and comments are always welcomed.
I was deeply heartened by your many responses to my open letter to Mick Fleetwood. The night I posted the letter last week felt like a group therapy session, as you all shared with me your own experiences with Fleetwood Mac.
The next morning, feeling better but still off-kilter and anxious, I posted the link to the letter as a comment on one of Neil Finn’s tweets. I left it for him, with all due respect, in the hopes that he would read it and come to understand how hard this situation has been for some of us. Frankly, it had seemed for months like nobody in the Fleetwood Mac camp understood or even cared how we were feeling. They were just moving on without us, like we were discarded pets left behind at the old house.
That night, to my absolute surprise, Neil responded to me in a private Twitter message. To my greater surprise, it was an extended and gracious and thoughtful response to my open letter. One that, perhaps, I didn't deserve. One that has made me see things a bit differently.
I’ve been careful not to call out Neil or Mike Campbell personally in my anger over this reformation of Fleetwood Mac. From the start, I understood that the anger should not be aimed at them. They are well-loved and talented musicians and carry with them their own extended musical legacies and fan bases.
But I have been snarky on social media because humor and sarcasm are my defense mechanisms against emotion. Of the two new members of the band, Neil has been out in the media the most because of his work outside Fleetwood Mac. Of course, the subject of Fleetwood Mac has inevitably come up. It's been hard for me not to think, with every new interview, with every mention of the fact that this is a new band: WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHY ARE YOU RUINING OUR BAND AND OUR LIVES??
Neil reached out to me privately so I’m going to keep most of his message to myself, but this part feels important to share:
“I totally understand that the music is more than just a background for you. It is a fundamental part of your soul and well being. It's the same for me too. That's why I love it so much and would do anything to send out the best music I can with maximum love and hope attached. The connection between the fans and the music is what is at the heart of any artist’s work. I respect Fleetwood Mac fans for their passion and loyalty...I have the utmost respect and admiration for Lindsey Buckingham as an artist. He has left and will continue to leave an indelible mark on the world of music. That will not fade and the songs will live on. He can never be “replaced"...Of course there is a huge musical legacy to honour and I will put every ounce of effort I have into making those classic songs sound fantastic. I approach this new chapter of my life with a spirit of adventure and a sense of optimism. It was an honour to be invited in...I send my best wishes and love to everyone.”
Those last few sentences...they all made me rethink how I’ve been reacting, but those last few...reading them made me realize that perhaps I’ve been unfair. And childish. Bratty, even.
Neil's message brought with it a great sense of relief. To finally be heard and acknowledged...it was a gift, and I thank him for reaching out.
I’m not discounting the pain and sadness over the disbandment of the Rumours 5. It’s there and it’s real and it was, despite their sometimes volatile history together, greatly unexpected. It will remain a huge loss.
I've gone back and watched the interviews again, interviews I admittedly hadn't watched in their entirety, stomping away from my phone or computer, mid-interview, like a petulant child.
What I realize is: Neil's excitement is palpable. He, too, is like a child. He’s bursting at the seams with joy and awe to have been invited to join and play music with such a legendary band. Like any human being musician would be.
With a slightly refreshed perspective, I can now see these moments, not as negative or insensitive, but as endearing.
I realize now, objectively speaking, that I’ve been seriously harshing his mellow, and I regret this. He's been like a kid in a candy store and I’ve been the miserable store patron following behind him, smacking sugary treats out of his hands because my favorite candy isn't in stock anymore.
The Rumours 5 will always be my end game. Their music, their experiences together, the five of them on stage together--they are the ones who saved my life and they are over now. But I’ve finally been able to listen to the music again. This weekend, I watched The Dance in its entirety and, for the first time since April, it brought me peace instead of despair. Tears, yes. But peace, too.
My tantrums will continue, at times, I’m sure. I’m not perfect. On the opening night of this tour, October 3rd, Lindsey’s 69th birthday, I’ll undoubtedly be at home alone pouting into my glass of vodka. I'll continue to hope that Lindsey is faring okay emotionally in the wake of this disbandment. I hope he knows the abundance of love that exists for him out here. I'm glad he has his family's love and support, and I look forward with anticipation to whatever comes next for him.
I'll always long to see the Rumours 5 together on stage again. Just one more time. If I had only known the last time I saw you would be the last time...
But I listened to Crowded House this weekend too. Really listened to it. It really is beautiful music. And I've always loved Tom Petty and Mike Campbell's contributions to that music.
So if this new incarnation ends up saving someone like The Dance saved me...well, then I'm happy for that.
