Play On: Now, Then, and Fleetwood Mac: The Autobiography

by Mick Fleetwood

  Once she did, she was on her way. She did the gig with us, but to allow her the comfort of backing out at any point up until the last minute, I didn’t announce that she would be performing with us. Rick and I brought a piano round to her hotel suite that day and sat with her and rehearsed the songs she wanted to do. We played ‘Rattlesnake Shake’ and ‘Don’t Stop’ and I could barely contain myself thinking about how the audience was going to go bananas. On the day of the gig I alluded to a special guest, knowing that I could always say it was Steven Tyler, but Chris came through. She did more than any of us expected–in addition to ‘Rattlesnake’ and ‘Don’t Stop’ she did one of her old ones, ‘Get Like You Used to Be’, and even stayed on stage for ‘World Turning’. She’d flown six thousand miles and got on stage for the first time in seventeen years and she wasn’t fucking frightened, in fact, she was amazing.

  Her next step was in London at the O2 arena. You can imagine how excited I was to tell Lindsey about what had gone on in Hawaii, but both of us knew that this didn’t mean Chris was ready or willing to come back completely.

  Lindsey kept me in check, reminding me that we should find out whether Chris was coming back for good or not. We were all fine with her coming out and doing a song, maybe two, but until we knew she was serious, we had to be sceptical. As she had before, Chris started phoning us, and we started phoning each other.

  ‘Linds, have you spoken to Chris?’

  ‘I have, what’s going on? She’s talking about doing the European tour and playing music again.’

  ‘I know. What do you think?’

  ‘She’s talked about doing this before.’

  ‘I know. Maybe she’s reconnecting. This really could be it.’

  ‘Yeah, but she can’t mess around.’

  ‘I know, Lindsey. No, she can’t.’

  ‘Yeah, but what if?’

  ‘I know!’

  Our worry was that Chris might not want to commit to the degree of work we were talking about. We had a three year plan for the band so before we got our hopes up, we had to be sure she understood what coming back meant.

  ‘Mick, do you think she realises what we’re looking at if we do this?’ Lindsey asked.

  ‘Sort of.’ It was the best I could do.

  A day or so later each of us got a call from Stevie, who had just spoken to Chris.

  ‘Is she kidding?’ Stevie asked. ‘Is this some fantasy she has, about what this is?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ I said. “I believe she’s really thinking about it.’

  After that Stevie spoke to her again and said unabashedly that she wanted Chris back. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘it would make life easier for me!’

  Chris had tremendous deference about coming back to the band and when she’d call me to talk about it, she had that same humble, little girl tone to her voice. She wanted to be sure everyone wanted her and that she wouldn’t be taking away from what we’d done in her absence because she’d been gone nearly fifteen years.

  We flew Chris to Ireland to rehearse with us and it was a lot of fun, as if no time had passed. We decided she’d make an appearance in London and do another few gigs and then we’d address the situation again. We had practised a handful of songs, but in the end we thought it best that Chris come out and do just one, which is what we did. We waited even longer, after the tour had ended, to let the cat out of the bag and announce that she was back for good. But the truth was that after London, in our minds, the band was back together.

  During the European shows that Chris came out for, we started exchanging song ideas, and watching her and Lindsey reactivated as a creative pair was invigorating. We started talking about getting into the studio and working on a new record and discussing how we would–and should–give it another go together.

  At the end of that tour, I went to her room in Amsterdam and told her the news that John had cancer. She was devastated, no matter how much I assured her that the prognosis was good. We had one last dinner together and the next time I saw Chris was in the studio in Los Angeles in April 2014. She has transformed from the fly trapped in a wine glass of her own design to a world traveller. After that first trip, she went on a huge safari in Africa, flying all over the continent in single-engine Cessnas. She went straight from there to live in LA with us for two months. After we’re done with the last date of our next tour, she’s going to South Africa on holiday because she was there once and loved it so. She’ll be away from home for seven months! I’d say she has faced her fears and then some. It’s amazing how much she’s changed her life. I might have worried about her considering all the road work we have in store, but she’s already done it. She’s ready to go.

  Chris, Lindsey and I spent two months working on what will be the next Fleetwood Mac album this spring, with John, Chris and me sharing a gorgeous house in Santa Monica and all of us recording in Studio D at the Village Recorder where we did Tusk. Chris and I were like the odd couple sitting around the pool, joking that there would be a new rumour that we were emotionally involved. We had the greatest time. It was rock-and-roll boot camp; for two months we’d get up at 7 a.m. and do yoga and exercise, then head to the studio for the day. Quite a different routine to the way we used to prepare to record.

  I say without hesitation that this has been altogether different and altogether wonderful. The chemistry between us has never been better and it’s all coming together so easily and enjoyably. I’m not alone. Chris has been saying lately that it all feels like a dream, and I know exactly what she means. It is a dream. It’s the same one we’ve been having, all of us, apart and together. But now we’re having it together again.

  We will start rehearsing for an extensive tour in August 2014. By then we will have the makings of what I hope will be a new album by Fleetwood Mac written by all of us, as it should be. Our tour is already sold out and we’ve just sold another forty dates well into 2015. That will probably become sixty shows. And that is all before we go overseas.

  We have no intention of running our ensemble into the ground the way we used to do; we’ve learned to look after ourselves. Stevie takes great care of her voice and for the first time Chris is using Stevie’s voice coach to take care of hers, as well. Lindsey is a unique creature; he sounds perfect whether he’s just finished a tour or hasn’t sung in months. I think he could not sing for fifteen years and get on stage and still sound flawless out of the gate. John is a perfectionist and he was back up to speed in no time, cancer be damned. As for me, my job is pretty physical and I’ve learned my lesson. I need to stick to a healthy regime or none of this will be possible.

  Sometimes I think about how I used to carry on and it amazes me that I’m still here. Back then, most of my days off were spent repairing myself. If I knew I had two days off, after the gig I would stay up, organise a party, then go round to some other hotel where another band might be in town. Before I knew it, my days off were gone and I’d been up the whole time. I’d end up backstage pretending to sleep for two hours before our next show, but I wouldn’t be sleeping. I’d be way too wired. So then I’d have to really do myself in by drinking heavily just to get through the gig.

  As fun as some of those memories are, it’s not a healthy business model, and the romance for me is gone. I used to find the lunacy of it electrifying, but now the thought of those scenarios coming to life again makes me feel physically ill. There is a real sense among us all that this is our victory lap, and though we haven’t said as much, I’ve known all of these people long enough to know they feel it too. The mood in the studio–the vibe that John hit upon in that email–is tangible. It’s just so wonderful that we’re all together again and making such great music that even Lindsey’s generally aloof demeanour has been challenged. I’m the first one to shed a tear and bear-hug everyone, but this time around that’s been Mr Buckingham! He’s been more available emotionally than I’ve ever seen him. I found myself walking around the studio snapping photos like a tourist: ‘Oh look, there’s Lind
sey and Chris riffing on the couch, happy as two pigs in shit!’ This rebooting of our relationship with Chris has brought us all back and reminded us from whence we have come–and it’s been awesome.

  All of this, of course, is in preparation for Stevie, who will join us in the studio later this year after she finishes her last solo album for Warner Brothers. She won’t be distant from the process; rather, we will be ready for her. The truth is that Stevie is a vocalist, while the rest of us are musicians, so we will set the stage for her entrance, and together we will work out what I believe will be a fitting return for this line-up of the band.

  One thing I do know is that whenever this band ends, no matter what, that won’t be the end for Stevie. I believe she will perform until her very last breath, much like Edith Piaf, whom she reminded me of the first time I heard her sing. The first gift I ever gave Stevie was a boxed set of albums by Edith Piaf, because those two are one and the same in many ways. Edith was on stage only twenty hours before she dropped dead and I think Stevie will go in much the same way, because as much as she claims she’d love some time off, the girl never stops. I picture Stevie in her eighties, writing gorgeous romance novels and finally telling her incredible life story. Like Edith’s, Stevie’s fans will be there because they are devoted and they will follow their Gypsy wherever she goes.

  And me, perhaps I’ll be the same.

  CONCLUSION

  I SOLD MY SOUL TO THE COMPANY STORE

  Looking back, that is truly what I’ve done–I sold my soul to the company store. I have to accept that reality and make peace with it. For the most part I have, because I’ve realised that I am the store and the store is me, but there is a sadness in truly understanding the collateral damage that caused, from the emotional suffering brought upon my children, to the lifestyle that inadvertently injured people I loved. Reflecting on my life has helped me to understand how all of that happened, as it has made me realise that I probably wouldn’t have done anything differently; mostly because I was truthfully, and somewhat blissfully, unaware. I’ve done all that I can to repair that damage with my children and I’ve tried to be the best father and grandfather that I can be. My daughter Lucy lives with me in Hawaii and we spend more time together now than we did during the first twenty years of her life. I’m so happy I get to share her life with her, at this stage in mine. Her sister Amelia and I are also closer now than ever. We write a weekly column for an English newspaper and are very much connected. I’m glad that I’m able to give them real time now, since I didn’t when they were young.

  I have a new partner in my life now, Chelsea Hill, who has a wonderful daughter, and I love the both of them very much. My relationship with Chelsea is a reality that I am learning to integrate properly into my life and my children’s lives. Chelsea and I were friends for a few years during the final days of my marriage to Lynn and when Lynn and I parted, I began to spend more time with Chelsea and fell completely in love with her.

  I’m a different man than I used to be but often I feel that I’m still the same soul I was as a child; the young boy who adopted the simplistic philosophy that in order to survive he would do the only thing he thought he was good at. I still have the same sense of adventure that urged me to leave home and follow my dream. For better and for worse I’ve chased that muse around the world and back again, somehow knowing in my heart that it would all turn out alright.

  As a young chap, sitting in my sister’s garage playing drums, I’d sometimes ask myself, ‘What are you doing? How are your parents going to feel?’ But I had no answer. I didn’t understand then that it had ramifications. I did realise that if I ran away and disappeared into the countryside, it would be the worst thing I could ever do to my parents, because they’d think I was either dead or in danger, and I didn’t want to make them suffer. But short of running away, I was only going to play drums, come what may.

  I’m sure my mother did suffer, and worry, and I’m lucky that I still have her here with me at my age so that I can make it up to her. She’s got a great perspective on my life because she’s seen the little drummer boy grow up and make his dream a reality. She’s seen the entire Fleetwood Mac drama, every single bit of the whole story. Her comment when I told her that we were getting back together? It was priceless. There she was, ninety-seven years old, sitting on her veranda in Maui, the day I went to say goodbye before flying to LA to meet the others. We had a lovely lunch and as I got ready to go, she called me back.

  ‘Son,’ she said, ‘good luck out there, and play well. Make a great album. There’s nothing like the songs you did when you were all together.’

  ‘I will make you proud, Mum, I promise.’

  ‘But one more thing,’ she said, and her eyes lit up.

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘Now Mick, you must listen to me. This time, they’re going to behave themselves, aren’t they?’

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  It is with a great-full heart that I thank every one of the players, family and friends, past and present, and acknowledge, with deep gratitude, every person who took part in this wonderful journey by my side.

  Sincerely,

  Mick Fleetwood

  Three years ago I had the pleasure of meeting Anthony Bozza when he interviewed me for a Playboy article at a very pivotal point in my life. I invited Anthony to stay with me at my Maui hill top farm and from there, while we talked, a firm bond of mutual understanding and respect was established. It was the first time for me, that I so openly admitted my abandoned hope for the continuation of Fleetwood Mac. What he witnessed was my quest, my holy grail, which has really been my driving force my entire adult life, fading away into the distance. In the end, the article proved to be a catalyst for the next chapter of the play. When deciding to write my memoirs Anthony was naturally my first choice as a partner in crime. With his easy cadence and parallel sense of humour we unravelled, pieced, knocked and strung together the adventures that constitute my life.

  Photographs

  First steps, Hayling Island 1948.

  Mike and Biddy on their wedding day.

  My family, Hayling Island, 1949: Susan, Sally and Me on Mum’s lap.

  At five taking in the sights.

  At thirteen in Gloucestershire wondering what’s coming next.

  The Bo Street Runners, Baby Never Goodbye Promo Shoot, back when I was called “Mike”.

  The lads of Fleetwood Mac: Jeremy, John, Me, Danny and Peter in 1968.

  An early Fleetwood Mac TV appearance, Denmark, 1968.

  Steering the course with John, Peter, Danny and Jeremy.

  Rave on! An ad for our headlining show at the Lyceum, midnight ‘till 7am.

  Rehearsal at the Royal Albert Hall in 1969.

  Fleetwood Mac with Cliff Richard, 1969.

  Spring is in swing: an ad for a 1970 gig in Reading with Chicken Shack.

  Ready for kickoff, 1960s.

  At Kiln House, 1970.

  Danny Kirwan, Bob Welch, Me, John and Christine McVie, on a rock at Kiln House.

  Danny and John sitting in the garden at Kiln House.

  Peter Green during his time with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers.

  John Mayall in the studio.

  With my trusty portable tape recorder, on the road, 1970.

  My first marriage to Jenny, 1970.

  Ready for the beach, somewhere in America.

  Jenny and I on holiday in Corfu, Greece.

  Our first winter. Taken at Benifolds with the band and friends, 1970. Jenny heavily pregnant with Amelia is on the left with Bailey the dog.

  Jeremy and I - and my balls. Backstage at the Boston Tea Party, 1970.

  Walking with my balls sometime in 1971.

  Seedy Management: Me and John McVie during a promo shoot for Penguin. What good are gold records if you can’t pawn them anyway?

  Gone west: John, me, Bob Welch and Christine, Hollywood, 1974.

  With my daughter Lucy, Napili Bay, Hawaii, 1975.

  Who invited the rabb
it? Mo Ostin, Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Joe Smith, Me, Chris and John at the Beverly Hills Hotel in 1975.

  My daughters Amelia and Lucy with me, my sister Sally and my parents in 1975.

  The Rumours crew, 1977.

  Here we are in 1977. Lindsey, me, Stevie, Chris and John.

  For the sake of the U.S. Government: Me, Mickey Shapiro and Jenny at our second wedding.

  At it again! Award show fun, 1977.

  Get Tusked: with our gold records for Tusk, 1979.

  Star treatment: having our star added to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, 1979.

  Me, John and his wife Julie at their wedding in LA, 1978.

  Best man for “The Man”! John and I at his wedding.