August 25, 2014
By Ann Friedman
McVie gave up her glamorous life as pop royalty for a quieter existence. Now, after taming her demons, she’s thinking about tomorrow.
Christine McVie looks into the camera and asks, “How does it feel being a sex symbol in rock ’n’ roll?” Hanging out backstage on Fleetwood Mac’s 1977 world tour, McVie, the band’s keyboardist, looks as if she’s had a few vodka tonics (and if this night was like most on the Rumours tour, probably a fair amount of cocaine, too). She pauses for the perfect comedic beat, then delivers: “I don’t know; ask Stevie Nicks.” Her blond shag and shiny caftan shake as she emits a husky laugh. “Oh, listen, Stevie’s gonna know I’m kidding,” she says in her proper English accent. The two women of Fleetwood Mac have always been friends. There’s no need for competition when their roles are so clear: Nicks in front, twirling seductively in her shawls; McVie in back, stealthily ruling the keyboards. If Nicks is the band’s witchy goddess, McVie is its warrior queen, strong and steady. She’s also one of its key creative forces, having written half the songs on the band’s Greatest Hits album. Continue reading