At least today, in their grief, everybody can listen to Christine McVie's music.
It didn't used to be this way. First and foremost because the record stores immediately ran out of inventory, and it would take weeks for new records to be pressed and shipped.
But that makes the point that we owned a limited number of records in the pre-internet, pre-Spotify era. Which is all to say there were groups we were aware of that we owned no albums of, like Fleetwood Mac.
Of course I knew "Oh Well," it was an FM staple when most people were still listening to AM. FM addicts were hipper, clued-in on certain tracks and bands that were unknown to the hoi polloi.
And ultimately "Oh Well" was stripped into the band's 1969 album "Then Play On," which I saw all the time in the bins, it had that unique cover.
And then Santana had a huge hit with "Black Magic Woman," which the same FM acolytes knew was written by Peter Green and done by Fleetwood Mac, even though in many cases we'd never heard the original, which we eventually did, you'd think it would have gained contemporaneous airplay on these same FM stations, but it did not. But eventually we were at somebody's house who had "Then Play On." That was a feature of going to a friend's domicile, to not only comb through their albums, but to play certain tracks you loved that you didn't own and probably never would.
And then Peter Green left the band and not only was there an endless succession of guitarists, one left the group to join the Children of God, and then there was that fake band put out by the manager and...
This was all news, I knew all this, but most of the music meant nothing to me, I'd never even heard it.
And then came "Station Man." Christine McVie neither wrote it nor sang the lead vocal, after all she wasn't even a band member, but she was unmistakable in the background vocals, it was the first Fleetwood Mac track I cottoned to, that I wanted to hear again, that I turned up every time I heard it on the radio.
And then Christine joined the band. I read that she'd been in Chicken Shack, but that band meant absolutely nothing in the U.S. Cool that she was married to the group's bass player, John McVie, but...
It was the early seventies. You could make a number of albums for a major label and never have a hit. Which was the case with Fleetwood Mac. They'd promote the records, you'd see them in ads, in the store, but chances are you never bought them. I certainly did not.
And then, five albums after "Kiln House," which contained the aforementioned "Station Man," came "Heroes Are Hard to Find."
I'm talking the single, the opening cut, not the entire album. Like "Station Man," you heard "Heroes Are Hard to Find" on the radio and continued to hear it. There was that groove, but even more there was that recitation of the title in the chorus that was so magical, actually the same magic Christine brought to subsequent Fleetwood Mac albums, but this was the first time I remembered it shining, hearing it shine on the radio.
And then came "Over My Head."
2
"You can take me to the paradise
And then again you can be cold as ice"
Let's see, it was my second year in Utah. At the end of which I realized I had to leave or else I'd be there forever.
You see I'd made friends with the freestylers the previous May in Mammoth, we were all gonna compete on the tour the following year. Jimmy Kay had competed the year before.
But Jimmy got aced out the following December, I choked and Jimmy went back to New Jersey to lick his wounds with his family, Al went back to L.A. and I stayed in the apartment with "Chang," a Vietnamese student who hadn't heard from his family in years.
This is when it hit me, what was I doing here? I didn't even want to ski. It made no sense. When I was in college skiing was part of my overall life, now it was everything and I needed more.
Jimmy said I could sleep in his bed while he was gone (I'd been sleeping on the couch before this). And therefore I could play his 8-tracks, he had two brand new ones, that he'd recorded from albums he bought, "Fleetwood Mac" and "A Night at the Opera." This is when I fell in love with "I'm in Love With My Car." And "39." My favorite song on the album was and probably still is "Your My Best Friend," but when listening to the album these two tracks surfaced. As for "Bohemian Rhapsody," it was just a cool novelty song, a track dedicated radio listeners knew, not a classic on the level of "Stairway to Heaven," that would take years, really it was the "Wayne's World" movie that made it iconic, the same way "Don't Stop Believin'" was made iconic by its inclusion in the finale of "The Sopranos."
Now I first heard "Over My Head" on the radio, I found it infectious, because contrary to seemingly everything else, it was understated, a track that set your mind free. You know, the kind that made you think you too could be in love, maybe even with Christine McVie.
Yes, I knew who she was. Stevie Nicks was just another woman in the band, one who did not play an instrument, Christine's single came out first. And I'd say Christine was the star, but that's just the point, she was an anti-star, she wasn't dolled up to look like a model, she wasn't asked twenty questions in a dumb magazine article, she was one of the guys, a boys' girl, and there were very few of those in rock and roll. Bonnie Raitt is the only other one that comes to mind. You felt like you could hang with both of them, that there was something below the surface, that they spoke your language, that they weren't prissy, you didn't have to be on guard the entire time, you could just be yourself. and isn't that what we're all looking for?
And on Christmas Day, my parents called. Jews do this, even though the holiday does not apply. Usually we eat Chinese food and go to the movies, maybe two, at least that's what we used to do, well, when I moved to L.A. But before that, every Christmas Day I went skiing, and my parents were in Vermont doing same and I told my mother I was at loose ends and she castigated me and told me to get a job. My father said he didn't know what was going on, but he was gonna send me twenty bucks and I should go for a good meal, that I'd figure it out.
And then I got back into Jimmy's bed and fired up "Over My Head," listened to it over and over again, which ain't that easy to do on an 8-track.