The Columbus Dispatch
Photos: Kristen Zeis
In sports, one player, no matter how transcendent, can’t single-handedly win a title: Just ask LeBron James. On the crowded classic-rock-nostalgia circuit, even two towering superstars might not cut it: Ask Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks.
So please welcome back Fleetwood Mac’s not-so-secret weapon, Christine McVie. As evidenced by last night’s transformative show in Nationwide Arena, her adoring fans missed her, but not half as much as the rest of her band.
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A shadowy back line of five singers and multi-instrumentalists quietly added any muscle the core quintet, rounded out by rock-solid bassist John McVie and incurably hammy drummer Mick Fleetwood, had lost over the years. (Nice gong, Mick.)
Nicks in particular deftly dodged the high notes on Dreams and Rhiannon, though her cuddly-goth charisma helped close the deficit: Nobody on Earth gets more applause just for twirling in a circle.
Still, Landslide, her colossally gentle acoustic duet with Buckingham, can always induce open weeping, and her entrancing Gypsy may be the band’s single most rapturous pure-pop moment. (The lost high notes on that one particularly hurt last night, though she did twirl a lot.)
Buckingham, meanwhile, is the mad virtuoso: His howling, classical-guitar-shredding, one-man version of Big Love (off 1987’s crazy-underrated Tango in the Night) is an awesome, terrifying thing, and his prowling, snarling, opera-length solo on the uncharacteristically heavy deep cut I’m So Afraid nearly knocked the audience unconscious.
Ultimately, though, it was Christine’s night: The show peaked with the Tango-era soft-rock classic Little Lies — featuring the night’s best harmonies by a long shot — and she closed out with the delicately strident solo-piano gem Songbird. Her bandmates appeared to consider carrying her offstage like a Super Bowl-winning quarterback. It’s not a bad idea.
SAY YOU LOVE ME
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