LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM – GIFT OF SCREWS
Fleetwood Mac man’s punchy pop-rock manifesto
He was, incredibly, the new wave one in Fleetwood Mac, but Lindsey Buckingham’s much-tromboned love of the Gang Of Four, Prag Vec and the Delta Five (or similar) never really seemed to make it into his music. (Certainly very few people who ever heard Love Like Anthrax ever went on to make a double album like Tusk). But he’s always had more of an adventurous spirit than his fellow band members. And this presumably why Mick Fleetwood and the McVies invited Stevie Nicks and him to join their old blues band, effectively bolting a Mustang body onto an old Bentley.
In fact, Buckingham’s extra-curricular creativity has been something of a problem for him, in that he keeps writing a lot of the best songs in his old band, all the while initially intending them for himself. Thus the first incarnation of Gift Of Screws which he worked on between 1995 and 2001, and which was, in a way, his Smile. A double album, it never came out, as Buckingham was persuaded to stripmine seven of its best songs for Fleetwood Mac, who duly recorded them, had big hits, and went away again. Buckingham released instead the perfectly acceptable Under The Skin in 2006, and no more was heard of Gift Of Screws until, as they used to say on Tomorrow’s World, now, that is. Continue reading
The Sunday Times (UK)
September 14, 2008
Lindsey Buckingham: Gift of Screws
The Sunday Times review
Buckingham’s last solo album, 2006’s Under the Skin, was a thing of wonder and beauty, but Gift of Screws finds him on even finer form. Fated for ever to be thought of as the man who reshaped Fleetwood Mac into a world-conquering rock band, the guitarist issues albums that, if they bore the group’s name, would sell by the bucketload; and he’s fated, too, to have his unsung status as one of the great geniuses of American sonic architecture obscured by his talent for undislodgable melody lines and radio-friendly hooks (though the hits invariably contained some deeply eccentric music-making). Here, commercial Lindsey again does battle with his darker, more experimental side. Great Day is pure Tusk-era Mac, its refrain of “It was a great day” shadowed by the characteristically droll riposte “It wasn’t such a great day”. Time Precious Time finds him giddily looping and lapping his extraordinary guitar-playing; Did You Miss Me may be the most beautiful song he has ever written; Love Runs Deeper just needs Ms Nicks on harmonies to scoot up the charts; Underground bemoans an entertainment industry interested only in instant cash prizes (“They heard 15 seconds, and that was enough”); the title track’s yelps and howls are almost sectionable; Treason nails the neocon age of permissible torture and executive malfeasance, to the sweetest of tunes. Sensational.
Warner Bros 9362498334