Gift of Screws: A Quirky Lindsey Buckingham Sampler

I don’t think it needs declaring that I am a Lindsey Buckingham fanatic. If you know me at all well, you know who Lindsey Buckingham is and what the man’s music has meant to my life, my musical taste, and often, my mood.

Months ago, I did a post about Peter Green, the first guitarist for Fleetwood Mac and one of the greatest to ever live. In terms of sheer skill and authority with an instrument, the man has no comparison. He is undoubtedly one of the greatest guitarists to ever live. I wrote that post to pull the man’s story and talents out of musical limbo and to expose new people to his sound. I hope many of you found it enjoyable! This post is a bit different, however.

In 1975, Lindsey Buckingham joined Fleetwood Mac with his then-girlfriend, Stevie Nicks. They helped make rock & roll history with classic songs such as “Landslide,” “Rhiannon,” “Go Your Own Way,” “The Chain,” and so, so many more. Lindsey’s aesthetic was a perfect match for the group, and he helped create some of the most popular, enduring music from the ‘70s.

But those songs aren’t why I love Lindsey Buckingham’s music. They aren’t even a good representation of his full spectrum of skills and approaches to the song as a form. In 1979, he took creative control over the Fleetwood Mac album Tusk, playing every instrument on some of his songs. He became quirky, experimental, and even a little punk. But the record’s sales were not what the execs wanted, so he was forced to find a new avenue for his creativity.

In 1980, he released his first solo album, Law and Order. From that point forward, he’d have a love-hate relationship with Fleetwood Mac, bouncing back and forth between solo work and band work. Inevitably and famously, he quit the band in 1987, following the release of the Tango in the Night album and just prior to hitting the road for a supporting tour.

In the 1987-1997 interim period, Lindsey released only one solo album, Out of the Cradle, in 1992. Fleetwood Mac reunited in 1997, put out a new studio album in 2003, and have toured three times. From 2006 to 2011, Lindsey himself has released three solo albums, a live album, and three live DVDs—not to mention three solo tours (one currently still in progress in the UK).

Many people know Lindsey Buckingham’s sound and style, but few people know some of his more provocative songs. My goal in this post is to share a few of my favorites, provide some context and comments, and maybe pull some new fans to his ever-growing roster!

“The Ledge”

The quintessential quirky Lindsey song is track two off Fleetwood Mac’s 1979 Tusk, “The Ledge.” This song defiantly takes all Lindsey’s talents for crafting a radio hit and chucks them in the trash. The song is a two-minute, cacophonic blitzkrieg of monotonous snare drum, thumping bass, crunchy guitar, and, yes, moans and howls.

“Johnny Stew”

1980’s Law and Order provides this rocking gem with some of the catchiest guitar licks the man has ever put out. A fan favorite, every Lindsey fan is dying for the day he dusts this one off and plays it in concert. Dig the grunts and screams in the bridge.

“Come”

“Go Your Own Way” may be one of the greatest break-up songs ever written, but Lindsey certainly tops it with “Come.” He wrote this song after his break-up with Anne Heche and bitterly declares, “Think of me, sweet darling, every time you don’t come.” From Fleetwood Mac’s 2003 Say You Will. The guitar solo at the end is meant to be played ear-bleedingly loud.

“Go Insane”

The title track from his second solo album, “Go Insane” captures the man’s seeming decent into madness a few years before quitting Fleetwood Mac. Although he has since reworked the song into a beautiful, Spanish-style solo guitar piece, the original is catchy, quirky, and just a little disturbing at times.

“What Makes You Think You’re the One?”

Another Tusk gem, this song is one more brilliant Lindsey break-up piece. Rumor has it, he wrote it during the Rumours sessions in response to Stevie Nicks’s sleeping with drummer Mick Fleetwood. No wonder Stevie’s harmonies are absent on this track . . .

“Gift of Screws”

Pure madness. Mr. Buckingham here takes the words of a troubling, somewhat cryptic Emily Dickinson poem and turns them into a song rife with sexual innuendos, climaxing ultimately in a . . . well, a climax.

“Murrow Turning over in His Grave”

Imagine a song as catchy and rocking as “Black Betty.” Now imagine that song as a nightmarish horror story of corporations controlling the media and entertainment industry. That’s what Lindsey Buckingham offers in “Murrow,” long before the Occupy Wall Street movement. And the guitar solo at the end? About as close to the sound of a human scream as an instrument can get and still sound good.

“That’s How We Do It in LA”

But the man isn’t always crazy and obsessive; sometimes he’s merely eccentric. “That’s How We Do It in LA” is another great track from Law and Order, and it has the distinction of being the only song he’s ever sprinkled with a foreign language. But then again, it’s pretty hard to know what he’s saying even while singing in English on this track. Notice especially the intentionally unenthusiastic, monotone backing vocals. Listen carefully for the introduction of kazoo halfway through!

“Loving Cup”

This song blends everything campy about the ‘80s with everything Lindsey Buckingham does best. If you ignore the slightly-dated sound, this song is pretty awesome. The background “Hoo! Haa!” throughout is a cool refrain, and the creepy low-register voice singing backup during chorus is Lindsey’s own voice, the frequency slowed. But the best part of the song is the impressive arrangement and layering of both acoustic and electric guitar parts—especially the intense part roughly three minutes in.

“Wrong”

Never afraid to be a little obscene, Lindsey Buckingham calls his old pal Mick Fleetwood (about whom he wrote this song) “Mr. Rock-Cock.” It’s a standout track from his 1992 Out of the Cradle and it talks about corruption in the record industry. Don’t miss the sirens at the end!

 “Not that Funny”

The song that divides more fans than any other, “Not that Funny” is another Tusk track. It is rough, crude, and brilliantly simple. But the anguish in his voice makes it a gem. “It’s not that funny, is it? No one to turn you on; all your hope is gone. It’s not that funny, is it?” Bitter break-up lyrics at their finest here.

A Peter Green Primer

 As a guitarist and avid blues fan, I like to use Peter Green as my litmus test for how well other musicians really know the blues. Everyone has heard of B. B. King, and the man is undoubtedly a god in his own right. But only one man, he once said, can send shivers down his spine while playing the guitar, and that man is Peter Green. An unfortunate life plagued with mental illness quickly snuffed him from the public sphere, just as he was beginning to make a name for himself. As a result, he’s become largely forgotten. I’d like to offer a Peter Green primer for anyone interested in this post today.

Green’s story begins with the departure of another great, and much better known, guitarist from John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, a band famous for discovering talent. In the mid 60s, Eric Clapton left the band, and John Mayall held auditions for his replacement. The young Peter Green stood out above the rest—so much so that Mayall proclaimed him to be “someone better” than Clapton himself. At first, nobody believed it was possible; Clapton was the guitar god everyone was talking about in England. But as soon as anyone heard him play, they agreed he was indeed an uncommon craftsman.

With the Bluesbreakers, Green recorded only one album, A Hard Road, but it secured his success as a guitarist. He especially shined with such tracks as “The Stumble” and “The Super-Natural,” both of which were instrumental powerhouses foreshadowing Green’s future.

He became friends with the band’s rhythm section of Mick Fleetwood on drums and John McVie on bass, ultimately leading to their spending some time together in the studio working on a short instrumental piece as a trio. This song Peter titled “Fleetwood Mac” as a humble nod to his two friends. Before long, the three broke away and added guitarist and song-writer Jeremy Spencer to their ensemble to form one of rock and roll’s most famous bands. When it came time to name the band, Green famously insisted his name not be a part of it, as he knew he’d eventually leave. Instead, he wanted the rhythm section to have a name to carry with it. Sure enough, through four decades of personnel changes, Fleetwood Mac’s rhythm section of Fleetwood and McVie has been the only constant.

With Fleetwood Mac, Peter Green recorded a mere four studio albums in just over two years: Fleetwood Mac (often referred to as the “Dog and Dustbin” album), Mr. Wonderful, The Pious Bird of Good Omen (released as English Rose in the US with a slightly different track listing), and Then Play On. Growing increasingly disillusioned with his fame and fortune while simultaneously experimenting with heavy drug use, Peter Green was already becoming a controversial member of the band, which had expanded its lineup to five members with the addition of brilliant young guitarist Danny Kirwan. He began wearing his hair and beard long and donning long, loose robes, striking an unmistakable resemblance to Jesus. When he began demanding the band give away all its money to charity and embark on relief missions to help starving children, the band suspected he was losing interest in music all together.

In a now infamous incident in Munich in 1970, Fleetwood Mac went to a bizarre party at an enormous, secluded home. Multiple witnesses have suspected it was the home base for a cult of some fashion, although it remains shrouded in mystery. What is certain is that Peter Green and Danny Kirwan were both given a powerful, LSD-based drug. When the band’s manager found Peter playing bizarre music in the basement in a disturbing mindset, he insisted on getting the band out of the scene as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Within months, Green would announce his departure from the band he made famous.

Eventually, Green formed a new band and released his first solo album, the controversial End of the Game album released under his own name. The entire work is an unstructured jam session, heavily percussive, and lacking the masterful feeling once present in Green’s guitar playing. He was losing touch with reality, it was later discovered, due to the onset of schizophrenia.

Over the next decade, Green moved back in with his parents and went in and out of mental hospitals, regularly receiving electro-shock therapy. During one particularly famous bout of instability, he threatened to kill his accountant, supposedly because he did not want to receive royalty checks any longer. He grew his nails out, let his hair and beard turn into a wild, unkempt mane, and apparently would at times get on all fours and howl like a dog.

Today, Peter Green is somewhat more mentally stable, but still clearly fragile and a bit difficult to follow at times in conversations. He plays with his long-time friend Nigel Watson in the Splinter Group, a prolific blues band. But his medication saps his energy and makes it difficult to concentrate, leaving him with little interest in playing guitar at times.

Peter Green’s fame rests almost entirely with his output with Fleetwood Mac. From the very beginning, his songs demonstrated a tormented mind wrought with anxiety, evident in his solo number, “The World Keep on Turning,” from their first album. His clear, saturated voice and explosive guitar playing combine to make the song a haunting listen.

 

 "The World Keep on Turning" would be the precursor to other, similar songs of mental anguish, such as the beautiful “Man of the World,” in which he proclaims “There’s no one I’d rather be; I just wish I had never been born.” The gentle guitar playing of this piece and the powerful melodic structure paired with some of his finest lyrics produce a piece not easily forgotten. 

The final song he recorded with Fleetwood Mac, “The Green Manalishi,” finishes the evolution from straight-forward blues guitarist to poignant, experimental genius. The song documents his hatred of money and greed, which he felt haunted his every move. It is a clear precursor of the punk rock and heavy metal that would begin developing throughout the decade and is often cited as his masterpiece.

For straightforward blues, too, Green was able to deliver a powerful punch. His “I Loved Another Woman” is a brilliant example of economical use of notes and thoughtful bending, offering a unique sound to a standard chord progression. 

“Stop Messin’ Round,” meanwhile, is a standard, feel-good blues-rock number with his unmistakable sound infusing the genre with unprecedented life. 

Today, the three songs he is best known for are Fleetwood Mac’s biggest hit ever, the instrumental “Albatross;” a song Santana would make famous, “Black Magic Woman;” and arguably one of the greatest blues-rock songs ever recorded, “Oh Well.” All three capture the essence of the blues without sticking to the typical blues sound. “Albatross” is one of the most gentle, simple songs ever recorded, yet it is a complex listening experience that communicates between the notes at an almost primal level. 

“Black Magic Woman” adds a supernatural feeling to a standard blues sound with shrill tone and a thumping rhythm, producing a piece of surprising sophistication.

And “Oh Well” is a sort of spiritual Bildungsroman in song, contrasting the starkness of Green’s voice with the sharp edge of his guitar.

If you like what you've heard here, I strongly recommend getting your hands on some early Fleetwood Mac recordings to see the full spectrum of what Peter Green had to offer. His fall from fame is a tragic story, a sort of musical cautionary tale, as there is little question that he was in 1970 just starting to demonstrate his genius.