Fleetwood Mac, Rumours (1977)

This Musical Life: Essential Albums, Part 5 of 5

Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours (1977)

The Mac’s most successful lineup created by far their most beloved opus, Rumours. This smash megahit album provided the soundtrack to my early childhood, growing up in a tiny hamlet in a northern California river canyon in the 1970s. My mother was a single parent with an alternative lifestyle and great taste in music. Her vinyl record collection was our most prized possession and a constant in our unpredictable environment, filled as it was with wild and woolly characters, musicians, drifters, and working-class folks. We didn’t have much, but we had music. And it seemed between 1977 and 1979, Rumours was the prime subject of all the music gossip.

Who could resist? The cover itself intrigued listeners of all ages – a mysterious world created by a black-and-white, saturated still of Stevie Nicks in black ballet slippers and gossamer cape, a coy coquette cozied up to her 6’5” drummer and bandleader, a ponytailed Mick Fleetwood in Renaissance garb and strange, dangling wooden balls below his crotch. Were they a couple? one wondered.

The March 1977 Rolling Stone issue with the Mac cover by Annie Liebowitz found its way into our house. I overheard the adults talking about the band members breaking up, cheating on each other – sort of a free love, triangulation mashup that suited the lyrics perfectly. At age six, I was already mesmerized by the booty-shaking energy of rock. What a sound these people produced!

Rolling Stone, March 24, 1977. Photo of Fleetwood Mac by Annie Liebowitz.

I specifically remember lip synching to Stevie Nicks. My older half-sister and I would stand in front of a huge mirror and belt out “Dreams,” which drew me in with its imaginative and romantic lyrics. Lindsey Buckingham’s driving tune, “You Can Go Your Own Way,” further imprinted a love of radio rock, especially supported by Mick Fleetwood’s enthusiastic drums. There was so much passion in the guitar, and the lyrics pounded into my brain in a way that emblazoned rock and roll into my heart forever.

What makes Rumours a genius album is the subject of rock journalism year after year. It’s one of those things that the soul just knows. But, if I put my analytical cap on, I’ll venture to say that what stands out is its nature as the perfect pop-rock album. It lends itself to radio play, with its hooks and songs of digestible lengths. Three standout singers come together in varying harmonies, as well as solo standouts such as Christine McVie’s “Songbird” and “Oh Daddy.” The musicianship is clean and inspired without trying too hard. From Buckingham’s electric and acoustic guitars to John McVie’s grooving bassline that stays right in the pocket, to McVie’s bluesy keys on organ and piano, to Stevie’s trademark rock vocals, to Fleetwood’s percussion driving us all home, each instrument stands out on its own and doesn’t overwhelm the vocals or the other instruments. There is also the aura—the beautiful irony of a gold medalist team effort that is the result of a band fighting and failing romantically during its making.

The songs on Rumours - while all falling into the greater rock genre with pop, blues, and folk ingredients - are truly individual. Each song brings something unique to the fore and is simultaneously accessible enough to make every single track on Sides A and B captivating, a winner on its own. Finally, the sound engineering of the album is top-notch, and it shows. The levels and mixing are perfect.

Simply par exemple, Side B draws us in from the first note of Lindsay’s Dobro and Mick’s thump of the drum on “The Chain.” It’s one of just a few Fleetwood Mac songs accredited to all of the band’s members and has become a sort of alt-anthem for the ups and downs and all arounds of this supergroup’s career. The magic of the three-part harmony thrives alongside the extra touches of Christine McVie’s Hammond organ and harmonium; John McVie’s fretless bass; Mick Fleetwood’s drums and tambourine; and Lindsay Buckingham’s Dobro and electric guitar.

“The Chain” has an ominous feeling, giving a sense of watching film noir or a mystery movie. As we “listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise” and “run in the shadows,” we get the feeling a love affair is about to go awry, something dark is going down. As the harmonium contributes to the murky vibe, the beat of Fleetwood’s bass drum pounds along to keep everyone and everything in the universe going. This song exemplifies passion and insecure longing mixed with desire and need; it is captivating, countrified, folkified, pure pop-rock glory.

Rumours is clean, creative, down-to-earth. Inspired lyrics of aching, loving, losing, and loving again—the music takes hold in our hearts with no sign of letting us go. Combined with the captivating personas of the band members, especially the ethereal and gorgeous Stevie Nicks as the penultimate stage presence and an inadvertent symbol for the band’s very magic, Rumours continues to be breathtaking time after time after time again. It just never grows old.

I’ve never heard “Dreams,” “You Make Loving Fun” or any Rumours’ tracks in a supermarket or restaurant or elevator or on a car radio and felt it was overplayed. I can always find something in the album’s songs to relate to, and it will improve a mood every time. Even, perhaps especially when Stevie reveals her dark goddess self in “Gold Dust Woman,” I am smitten with positive love.

Rumours is the perfect pop-rock album, and I am confident that it will still be played in a hundred years by music lovers of all ages. It’s just so freakin’ good.

Extra credit: Watch the making of this essential album here: Classic Albums: Fleetwood Mac - Rumours (76 min.) on Amazon Prime.

Rest in peace, dear songbird Christine McVie (July 12, 1943-November 30, 2022).