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Billboard Magazine
by Timothy White
April 8th, 1998
On the eve of the release of “Enchanted” (Atlantic, due April 28) the engaging three-CD, 46 track retrospective – with eight unreleased cuts – of Nicks’ lengthy solo career, it seems the soon-to-be 50-year old sing/songwriter, who wrote the lovely “Long Distance Winner” as half of an early – ’70’s duo Buckingham-Nicks, has finally found the wisdom to learn from the intuition of her 25-year-old self.
“Back then, ‘Long Distance Winner’ was very much about dealing with Lindsey,” says Nicks, referring to Lindsey Buckingham, her artistic and emotional partner in the interval before their act merged with a subsequently revitalized Fleetwood Mac. “How else can I say it?” she wonders aloud, quoting a passage of the “Enchanted” track resurrected from the long out of print “Buckingham-Nicks” album: “I bring the water down to you/But you’re too hot to touch.”
“What the song is really all about,” Nicks confides, “is a difficult artist, saying ‘I adore you, but you’re difficult. And I’ll stay here with you, but you are still difficult” And the line ‘Sunflowers and your face fascinates me’ means that your beauty fascinates me, but I still have trouble dealing with you – and I still stay. So it’s really just the age old story, you know?” Meaning the inability to live with someone and the inability to live without them.
According to Nicks, who starts a 40-date US solo concert trek May 27 in Hartford, Conn., Buckingham’s stubborn but admirable streak lay in his unwillingness to compromise his composing to play in clubs, playing four sets a night in a steakhouse, whereas I was much more able to be practical.” That was then, and this is now, an era in which Nicks and the tempestuous Fleetwood Mac were able to set aside their collective differences, focus on teamwork, and reunite for the hugely fruitful “The Dance” live record and tour.
Stevie is quick to assert that the Mac now “plays way better than we did in the beginning” and readily agrees that the material selected for ‘The Dance’ boasts even better arrangements than the vintage renditions. Yet she admits her own personal and artistic intransigence of old: ‘Gold and Braid’, another song on ‘Enchanted’ is an unreleased track from my (1981) Bella Donna’ (solo debut) sessions, and it’s about Lindsey wanting more from me in our relationship. But wanting to know everything about someone, which goes hand in hand with being in love, was never something I’ve ever wanted to share with anybody. Professionally, everybody always wanted me to be their idea of what I should be. I’d flat-out look at people and say, “you know I’m not gonna do what you want, so why do you bother?”
“I’ve learned from mistakes,” she adds. “I got fat, and on the Dr. Atkins diet I had to lose 30 pounds I had been trying to lose for four or five years. But people have come into my career and wrongly told me, “Change your music, reinvent yourself! I just stayed what I am.”
Which is a real rock’n’roll character; a true one-of-a-kind piece of work. “Thank you!” she responds, erupting into giggles edged with her trademark throaty rasp. “People used to laugh at my musical style or my black handkerchiefy stage clothes, which make me look like an orphan out of ‘A Tale of Two Cities,’ and say ‘Oh, that’s very Stevie Nicks.’But now people in the fashion industry (like designers Anna Sui and Isaac Mizrachi) are giving me these accolades. If you believe in something and stick it out, it’ll come around, and you’ll win in the end.”
Other familiar criticism of Nicks center on her devotion in both composing and common-day activities to a heavily mystical life view. Possibly the single most recurrent image in her material, as illustrated by the “Sleeping Angel” cut that “Enchanted” retrieves from the 1982 “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” soundtrack, is a supporting cast of heavenly spirits. “I am religious,” Nicks explains. I wasn’t raised in any religion, because we were always moving when I was a kid and didn’t get involved in any church. But I believe there’ve been angels with me constantly through these last 20 years, or I wouldn’t be alive. I pray a lot. In the last few years I’ve asked for things from God, and he’s given them to me. And there were things I thought were going to kill me, and he fixed them. I felt that because I was fat I wasn’t talented anymore; I was destroying this gift God gave me and asked for help. Now I’m happy, even outside my music, and enjoying my life.
Stephanie Nicks was born May 26, 1948, the daughter of General Brewing president Jess Nicks and the former Barbara Meeks. “My mother’s mom and dad were divorced very early,” says Stevie, “and her stepfather worked in a coal mine in Ajo, Arizona, and died of tuberculosis. She had a hard life, was very poor, was 19 when she got married, had me at 20. My dad went after a big job in a big company, got it, did very well, and liked to move around and travel a lot. My mom got used to it and had a lot of fun, but she’s much more practical, frugal – she still sniffs her nose at my dad’s and my experience tastes – and she wanted more than anything else for her daughter and son (Christopher) to be independent and self assured.”
“I didn’t want to be married or have children,” Nicks confesses, “because then I couldn’t have worked as hard on all this. I would have split the whole thing down the middle, and I wouldn’t have been a good mother, or a good song writer either. If I got a call from the love of my life and a call from Fleetwood Mac saying you have to be here in 20 minutes, I’d still probably go to Fleetwood Mac. And that’s sad, but it’s true.”
Over the years Nicks has overcome substance abuse, serious eye surgery, the Epstein-Barr virus, and a host of detractors eager to diminish her musical contributions. Yet “Enchanted” documents a resilience and a wry candor – “I’m no enchantress!” she pointedly exclaims on the albums “Blue Lamp” – as well as a parallel path to her Big Mac experience, characterized by productivity and solo success equaling or exceeding that of her talented bandmates. Nick’s work is un-apologetically feminine in the face of the boys’ club that is rock. Consistently tuneful and sure in its spell-weaving , Nicks’ music also has surprising staying power, as show by “If Anyone Falls,” one of the best and sexiest pop/rock singles of the ’80s, and Enchanted’s” frank “Thousand Days,” which could close the ’90s on a similar note.
“‘Thousand Days’ was written about my non-relationship with Prince,” says Nicks, who had earlier composed “Stand Back” with him – although she notes he’s never called her back “to set up his payment on 50%” of the latter. “Days” recounts an abortive, all-night ’80s recording session with him at his Minneapolis home during a Fleetwood Mac tour, climaxing with Nicks “smoking my pot – he didn’t agree with my lifestyle – and going to sleep on Prince’s floor in his kitchen. I like him, but we were just so different there was no possible meeting ground.”
With current colleagues/collaborators does she most admire?
“Alanis Morissette, Joan Osborne, Sheryl Crow (who co-authored “Somebody Stand By Me” on “Enchanted”), and Fiona Apple, who’s very young and angry. I care about her and hope she’s OK. Fame is dangerous ground when you are young. You have gotta pace yourself.”
ICE Magazine
February 1998
Modern/Atlantic has March 24 slated for ENCHANTED, the new three-CD box set covering Stevie Nicks’ career (apart from Fleetwood Mac). The first two CDs present the best tracks from Nicks’ five solo albums: BELLA DONNA, THE WILD HEART, ROCK A LITTLE, THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MIRROR and STREET ANGEL. Also included are four non-album B-sides mixed in with the album tracks: “Edge of Seventeen” (the unedited eight-minute live version, only released promotionally), “Garbo”, “One More Big Time Rock and Roll Star” and “Real Tears”.
All tracks on the first two discs are being presented in their original mixes. At the beginning of the decade, Nicks remixed much of her best material for a greatest-hits disc called TIMESPACE. So the thinking was, ENCHANTED would be a good forum to re-present the original mixes.
The third disc of ENCHANTED contains all of the collector’s items, and its contents were still being finalized at press time. Tentative plans called for the following 15 tracks to be included:
“Crying in the Night” ~ from the coveted BUCKINGHAM NICKS album that Nicks recorded with lifelong collaborator Lindsey Buckingham back in the early ’70s. The marks the first official CD release of any track from that album, generally considered to be “America’s most wanted” missing CD. We asked a source closely involved with the project how this particular track was chosen. “We sat down with the tracks that had the bulk of her lead vocals on them,” our source says, “and we all agreed that this was the catchiest track, and the one that people would probably enjoy the most. It was also the first single from BUCKINGHAM NICKS back then.”
“Whenever I Call You Friend” ~ sung with Kenny Loggins, from the latter’s 1978 album NIGHTWATCH.
“Gold” ~ done with John Stewart, from Stewart’s 1979 album BOMBS AWAY DREAM BABIES.
“Blue Lamp” ~ from the HEAVY METAL soundtrack, a cult item itself which was unavailable on CD for years. A track from the BELLA DONNA era.
“Sleeping Angel” ~ from the 1982 soundtrack for FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH.
“Golden Braid” ~ unreleased outtake from THE WILD HEART. Fans may be familiar with it from Nicks’ concerts, but this is the unreleased studio version. Both “Sleeping Angel” and “Golden Braid” are outtakes from THE WILD HEART.
“Violet and Blue” ~ from the 1984 soundtrack to AGAINST ALL ODDS.
“I Pretend” ~ performed with singer-songwriter Sandy Stewart, from the latter’s 1984 album CAT DANCERS. “Sandy wrote and performed with Stevie during THE WILD HEART/ROCK A LITTLE era,” says our source. “She co-wrote, and performs on, ‘Nightbird.’ So this duet, from Sandy’s album which is out of print, is kind of a payback.”
“Battle of The Dragons” ~ from the 1986 soundtrack to AMERICAN ANTHEM.
“Thousand Days” ~ an unreleased performance.
“Somebody Stand By Me” ~ from the 1995 BOYS ON THE SIDE soundtrack.
“Free Fallin'” ~ from the 1996 PARTY OF FIVE album.
“Twisted” ~ Nicks’ songwriting demo of the song that wound up on the 1996 TWISTER motion picture soundtrack. “It’s her playing guitar, with something like a percussion loop, and Jesse Valenzuela of Gin Blossoms adding a little mandolin part,” says our source. “It’s structurally different from the version that ended up on TWISTER. It’s really nice, kind of pure and sweet. Recorded in her living room, by her, on 4-track.”
“It’s Late” ~ a cover of Ricky Nelson’s 1959 hit, also with Valenzuela on guitar. “It’s an unusual side of her,” says our source. “It has kind of a rockabilly feel.”
“Reconsider Me” ~ an unreleased outtake from ROCK A LITTLE, written by Warren Zevon, with vocal parts added by Don Henley.
The new box set will be housed in a 6×10-inch package with digitrays, much like the box sets by Abba, The Police and Bob Marley. Tentative plans call for a 64-page booklet with lyrics to all the songs, musician credits, liner notes by Larry Flick of BILLBOARD, an introductory essay by Nicks, and lots of unreleased photos, including some taken by the artist herself. Superimposed over some of the photos will be handwritten extracts from Nicks’ diaries, revealing personal reflections on particular moments in her career. Her brother, Christopher, served as art director for the project, and our source says that Nicks “has been extremely involved in every aspect of the box set.” Published reports also indicate that Nicks will tour this spring in support of the project.
Billboard, March 20, 1993
By Chris Morris.
FLEETWOOD MAC’S one time axe-slinger/singer/songsmith enchanted an adoring crowd of fans at his first-ever solo show in L.A. proper Feb. 22. Forging a live style that dramatically re-created the opulent studio architecture of his records, Buckingham alternated between solo performances of breathtaking intimacy and full-blown band numbers that showed off the well-drilled skills of his nine backup musicians. Performing with always apparent delight, the highly animated Buckingham received a local hero’s welcome. He kicked off the evening with richly detailed acoustic versions of “Big Love,” the last major hit he penned for his former group, and “Go Insane,” the title track from his 1984 solo album.
Proclaiming his intention to “reclaim some sense of creativity for myself,” he then introduced his truly startling group. Featuring five guitarists, three percussionists, and six singing voices, the tentet was adept at recreating the densely layered vocal and instrumental overdubs that have made works like last year’s Reprise release, “Out Of The Cradle,” such engrossing rococo pleasures. Buckingham led the group through its stormy paces on memorable Mac oldies like “The Chain” and “Tusk” and solo-album numbers such as “Trouble” and “You Do Or You Don’t.” The concert hit a raging midshow peak with “I’m So Afraid,” in which Buckingham constructed one of his few extended solos with near-mathematical precision and heart-halting emotion. After this show-stopping display, Buckingham dropped the energy level again with a couple of solo turns, then shifted into high gear again (with the remark, “All these guitars–give me a break!”), rampaging through “Doing What I Can,” “This Is The Time” (in which all five guitarists traded furious fours) and the inevitable set-closer “Go Your Own Way.” Buckingham obliged the crowd with a pair of encores that included a spirited “Holiday Road” and a wrenching solo “Soul Drifter.”
No doubt about it: One of America’s best-known studio hermits has acquired the band and the on-stage attitude to deliver his eccentric, ornate pop music totally live. Buckingham’s show is one of the best on the boards at the moment.
Article A14038762
Lindsey Buckingham is scheduled to lose his virginity tonight at 8 in front of 500 people. He says he isn’t nervous.
Before defenders of the public virtue take alarm, it should be noted that Buckingham’s rite of passage, while it may involve some loud noises and sweating, will be purely musical.
At 42, Buckingham is no blushing bride in the world of rock ‘n’ roll. To the contrary, he is a tremendously savvy pop-rock craftsman whose contributions as a singer, songwriter, guitarist and, most crucially, as an arranger and recording studio auteurwere indispensable in transforming Fleetwood Mac from a dogged band of hard-luck barnstormers to a paragon of pop success. This is one guy who chased after musical fame and fortune and found out what it was like to go all the way.
However, he has never played a show in which he had to go all the way on his own. That will change at the Coach House tonight, when he will play the first concert of his life in which he’ll be leading a band by himself (he and the band will be back again Friday). Continue reading LIFE AFTER MAC : At the Coach House, Lindsey Buckingham Will Be Playing His First Concert Since His Old Band Broke Up | LA Times
Other strange coincidences link the two: both, for instance, work with a sole collaborator; and both choose to preface some of their songs with little instrumental preludes which serve as plinths, the better to gaze upon the ensuing artwork. Both, too, claim their current albums showcase their guitar work more than previous outings. But from there, the two diverge, their musical differences signalled by their widely differing characters.
Frey is an outdoors kinda guy, an all-skiing, all-golfing, home- run-hitting sports nut whose obsession with games has run to caddying on the PGA tour and appearing on sports programmes as a trivia buff. The view from his Colorado home is reassuringly straightforward, comprising routine social griping like ‘Love in the 21st Century’ (impersonal sex); tired old sex-as-food metaphors like ‘Delicious’; and escapist fantasies like ‘River of Dreams’. At its most aware, a song like ‘He Took Advantage (Blues for Ronald Reagan)’ begins as a standard lament for love betrayed, and ends with a conclusion specifically aimed at ol’ sleepyhead: ‘And now he’s walking away / He doesn’t care what we say / We weren’t too hard to deceive / We wanted so to believe’. At its least aware, ‘I’ve Got Mine’ is Frey’s ‘Another Day in Paradise’, a scold for the rich in a world marked by poverty, another case of blasting away at one’s own foot in the name of self- righteousness.
Buckingham, on the other hand, is a shy, reclusive type. Many of his songs deal with loneliness and paranoia, without making grand claims for themselves as lessons to set the world to rights. Musically, Out of the Cradle is more varied and interesting than Strange Weather (and the last Fleetwood Mac LP, come to that), ranging from the Chris Isaak- styled rock classicism of ‘Street of Dreams’ to the Latin pop of ‘Soul Drifter’, an almost too deliberate stab at a summer-holiday song. There’s even a lighter re-run of Buckingham’s ‘Big Love’ riff, for a song called ‘Doing What I Can’ – which is only fair do’s, seeing as the original was a solo piece generously donated to keep the Mac’s Tango in the Night afloat.
Continue reading Lindsey Buckingham – Out of the Cradle review | The Independent
People Weekly, July 6, 1992
Out of the Cradle. (sound recording reviews)
By Craig Tomashoff.
You could drive a convertible down a bucolic country road on a sparkling summer day. You could take a stroll along an unspoiled tropical beach on a starry night. Or you could settle into your favorite chair and listen to this third solo outing from Lindsey Buckingham, former guitarist of the late unlamented supergroup Fleetwood Mac. Whichever you choose, you’ll soon be feeling that, despite its bad publicity, earth isn’t such a bad place after all.
Nobody in pop music these days creates better feel-good melodies than Buckingham (who wrote or cowrote 11 of the 13 songs here, including six with partner Richard Dashut). The only bad thing you can say about the project is that it took too long to arrive: It’s been eight years since Buckingham released his last solo record (Go Insane), five since he left Fleetwood Mac. If Out of the Cradle has had an unusually long gestation, it’s a very healthy baby.
The record is enhanced by quirky guitar intros and songs brimming with the sort of aural oddities that mark Buckingham’s style. Familiar and fetching hooks are turned into something new, thanks to the thick layer of guitar effects that replicate everything from harp to mandolin to power drill. Whether the song skips along like the sweet-natured, Top 40-friendly “Don’t Look Down” and “Countdown” or crawls like the quiet and contemplative “All My Sorrows” and “Streets of Dreams,” the melodies nuzzle up irresistibly against your brain. Buckingham titled Out of the Cradle well. Not only is his career reborn, the music has all the innocence, charm and energy of a toddler. (Reprise)
CRAIG TOMASHOFF
Review Grade: B
Rolling Stone Magazine
June 25th 1992
David Wild
I’m not trying to compete with Kris Kross now, just like I didn’t try to compete with Christopher Cross in the old days.”
Lindsey Buckingham – the pop genius and sonic architect behind Fleetwood Mac’s string of platinum successes in the Seventies and Eighties – is sitting under a velvet Elvis portrait in his home studio in the lovely hills of Bel Air, California. Buckingham has spent a substantial portion of the last four years in this room. Now, however, he’s finally on the verge of sharing with the public some of the music that he and Richard Dashut, his coproducer and writing partner, have been creating here, and he’s considering the question of how popular his eccentric brand of melodic pop will be these days.
“I guess it’s obvious that making this album hasn’t been an especially speedy process,” says the master of the understatement. “But I had to let a lot of emotional dust settle. People might think I’ve been off on some island getting my ya-yas out. The truth is, I’ve basically been here twelve hours a day. I’ve been goofing off only in the most productive sense.”
Asked if he’s grown sick of the windowless room, Buckingham pauses as if he hasn’t considered the issue before. “Well, I’m not really sick of it,” he says finally. “But I haven’t come inside here for a while, and I’m not sure why. A couple of weeks ago, I opened the door and just looked in. And I couldn’t relate to having spent the amount of time I did in here. This room became more my reality than the rest of the house. At times the whole thing seems like a weird dream to me.” Continue reading Lindsey Buckingham: Post-Mac Attack | Rolling Stone, Jun 1992
Spencer Bright
VOX Magazine
February 1992
I pull a Kleenex from its box and hand it to Stevie Nicks. She wipes a tear as it slides down her cheek. She cries when she speaks of Mick Fleetwood, she cries when she speaks of the babies she might have had and she cries when she speaks of the bullies in the record industry shoving her around. She’s like a damsel in distress in her castle, and we’re in her fairyland lounge. There is a warm glow from the chunky candles and the blue flame of the log fire, while outside in LA the temperature sizzles up in the 80s.
Stevie points out her favourite chaise lounge. Her favourite doll, which resembles her, sits regally upon it. One, a favourite 12-year old garment, is loosely draped around the chanteuse. Stevie needs the comfort of long-familiar possessions: they stress a continuity and equilibrium that have been sadly lacking in her emotional life.
To say that Stevie Nicks is considered flaky is a mild understatement. But, as with so many things Nicksian, it’s a mythical fog that masks the true woman. She isn’t just a mystical old crone running a witches’ coven in the Hollywood Hills: the fantasy world she appears to inhabit actually stems from her love of England, notably it’s history, kings and queens.
Her home is Encino- up the road from Dave Stewart’s house and over the brow of the hill from that of her former lover Tom Petty- is the sort of chocolate box creation you’d expect to find in a theme park. From the outside it’s a Tudor mansion with elephantitis: as you enter there’s a drained waterfall replaced by plants and flowers running alongside the winding brick staircase.
Climbing the stairs it changes from medieval to Hansel and Gretel, as the carved wooden banisters meander perpendicularly up three more stories. At the top of the house is an octagonal bell tower, but there’s no bell: just a viewing platform and windows where Stevie, her friends, and employees go to watch the sun set over San Fernando Valley.
I’m given a guided tour that the barman at my hotel would have died and gone to heaven for. There’s Stevie’s giant four poster bed with lace cushions and lacy covers. In the adjoining dressing room a sweet musty smell of perfume hangs in the air. All around are satin and silk nightgowns bunched on hangers.
Stevie says she bought this house because she could imagine Ann Boleyn living here. When Stevie Nicks first made money with Fleetwood Mac she was able to fulfill her Dickensian fantasies of looking like a “ragged doll”- she came out resembling between the Artful Dodger, Bill Sykes’ girlfriend Nancy from “Oliver Twist” and Miss Haversham from “Great Expectations.”
Stevie is not quite sure where this obsession with things English came from: “It was born into me. Maybe my last life was in England.” Thus when, in January 1975, a 6’5″ English eccentric named Mick Fleetwood came and asked Stevie and her boyfriend Lindsay [sic] Buckingham to join his band, she had to say yes “Just the idea that this band was English was reason enough to join. It was a dream come true.” At the age of 26, Stevie saw the new group as the perfect opportunity to learn about kings, queens, princes, and princesses.
Fleetwood perfectly matched her dreams. “The first time Mick walked into the room I thought I was witnessing the entrance of an English king, because that’s how he looked to me. He was wearing a burgundy-coloured, water silk vest (waistcoat) with a watchchain and a very long jacket that was really nipped in at the waist, and beautifully made pants. I was awestruck, and still am to this day of Mick’s presence. The whole air around him is power.” The people who saw Fleetwood’s performance on the Brits Awards with Samantha Fox may find this a little difficult to accept.
Previously, Lindsay [sic] Buckingham had dominated Stevie. He was the artist; he didn’t know how to do anything but music. “What was he going to do, sell shoes? I had a $50,000 education, I could do anything.” Her waitress job paid for the rent, the food, the car. “I knew it was going to take my strength to push Lindsay and I over the edge if we were going to make it in the music business.”
After Buckingham came a rogues’ gallery of powerful rock and roll suitors not known for their wimpishness: Joe Walsh, Don Henley, Tom Petty, and producers Jimmy Iovine and Rupert Hine. And the man who called his on the road dalliances an attack of “veal viper,” Mick Fleetwood. All get their individual tributes on Stevie’s ‘Best Of’ compilation album, “Timespace.”
In parallel with the last ten years of Fleetwood Mac, Stevie enjoyed the most successful solo career of the whole group. Her first solo album “Bella Donna” sold ten million copies, and subsequent collections have enjoyed less spectacular but still respectable sales. Now, though, with the apparently final demise of Fleetwood Mac, Stevie is suffering a personal and professional crisis.
The recent Fleetwood Mac troubles can be traced to an old Nicks song called “Silver Springs.” So taken was Stevie’s mother by this number that she was moved to open an antique clothing shop in Phoenix with the same name. Stevie made a gift of the song to her.
“Silver Springs” nearly became a classic, but was dropped at the last minute from the 20 million-selling “Rumours” album. Stevie thought it would be nice to resurrect the song and place it on “Timespace.” But Mick Fleetwood refused to give up the group’s performance rights: he wants the option of having the number on a boxed set due for this year’s commemoration of Fleetwood Mac’s 25th anniversary.
” I have told the world what a vile thing it was that Mick Fleetwood had done to me, who has fought like a dog to keep this band from breaking up. I don’t really know what’s going through Mick’s mind. He never returned a phone call, and he never felt it was his duty to sit down and write a letter to tell me why.
“He’s always been very English, and very proper and sometimes very arrogant, but to me, a very close and loving friend. And somebody that I always felt I could trust and love,” says Stevie, wiping away the tears.
“He has always been the boss of the group. He has always made all the decisions. And he has always made them without asking anyone else. So he had no reason to do this to us. To break up the whole band.”
In the tradition of rock and roll’s longest running soap opera, Stevie has Fleetwood’s soon-to-be ex wife Sarah [sic] on her side. “She’s singing with me now, she’s a very good friend. She’s divorcing Mick after being with him for 13 years: they are completely separated. She doesn’t understand.”
Stevie has included “Beauty and the Beast” on “Timespace,” a song written after her affair with Mick in the late 70’s. She explains that it is not a dig at him being a beast, but about the beauty and the beast within us all. The album’s sleeve notes are full of similar references to her ex-lovers.
Was there a common thread among her men? “They are all very smart and very loving, and they all had a difficult time with my life and the way that I live it and how busy I am.” For four lovers, a crucial test came when she became pregnant and opted for terminations. “It’s always been a tragedy. But they understood.” But they didn’t really. “Eventually, their hearts couldn’t take it, they couldn’t understand quite enough, how deeply embedded in this I was. And so it eventually hurt them too much and they had to leave, or face devastation on their own.”
She put her relationship with her fans before a relationship with one man. Ever since she saw Janis Joplin perform, she wanted to emulate her, to achieve that state of communion with the crowd. “I just wanted to be in love with my audience and I wanted them to be in love with me back.”
But now there is remorse at the havoc her abortions have wreaked on her psyche. “To give up four (babies) is to give up a lot that would be here now. So that really bothers me, a lot, and really breaks my heart. But they’re gone, so…” she composes herself. “But I couldn’t because I was too busy. And I had all these commitments.” She wants to adopt, but age and single-parenthood are against her.
“I’ve also thought about having one myself but I’m booked up for the next four years. I don’t know, at my age, if I can get pregnant right away, do an album at the same time, have a baby, promote the album, go on tour with the baby. So I’m going back and forth in my mind. At 43 years old, my time clock is ticking, so I can’t afford to wait around for very long.” Surely these are the same excuses she made on the last four occasions- with two important differences. There is no obvious candidate for the father, and even if there were, the decision remains totally in her hands.
In an epic inversion of the star’s role, she is subservient to the 40 people who depend on her for their livelihoods. “I don’t know quite how to walk away without hurting a lot of people- even though every one of those people would say ‘You’ve done a lot for us and we know that you love us, but go and do something for yourself for a change.’ But I just can’t.”
The determination, toughness and pragmatism that helped her achieve success now seem elusive, but what hurts most is being pushed around by business moguls. She is smarting from the inclusion- against her wishes- of Jon Bon Jovi’s aptly titled song “Sometimes It’s a Bitch” on “Timespace.”
“I was told at the beginning of this year that if I didn’t do a song by Jon Bon Jovi then my career was over. I don’t have any reason to hate Jon Bon Jovi. He wrote me a song, that was a very wonderful thing to do. I knew that just me singing that kind of a song wasn’t going to go over with a lot of my fans, which it hasn’t. But I was told by the industry, by management, by the record companies, and by everyone else, that if I did NOT do this, and reach this new audience, that my career was simply, finally, completely over.
“They exerted all the pressure you could possibly exert, they scared me to death. So I did the song, and is it a big hit song? No, it’s not.” She found it particularly distasteful to sing the word “bitch,” which she considers a swear word. Stevie concedes that she has difficulty challenging authority figures.
It all makes her appear so fragile. While we speak she only opens her doe eyes to wipe away the tears, preferring instead to look down when talk gets serious. There are no crutches anymore. She gave up the cocaine and alcohol in 1986 when she admitted herself to the Betty Ford Center.
Bad as she was, she still had the inner strength to take control of her destiny, probably because she was in mortal danger. One night while there she was inspired to write a personal creed: “I am not special. I am not infallible. I am dying.”
“I started crying really hard, and I wrote under it something to the effect, never forget these three lines. And so I feel that yes, I can write stories for people. I can tell stories to people, but that I’m not indestructible and that I’m not special. And that I was dying. So, that was a very big turning point at Betty Ford for me.”
If Fleetwood Mac had been told to do “Sometimes It’s a Bitch” she thinks she knows what would probably have happened. “Mick would’ve ridden in on his white horse and swept me up and told them all to go to hell and say I won’t let her do it.” The tragedy is that after all these struggles, Stevie Nicks is a victim once again.
VOX was privilaged to receive a guided tour of Stevie Nicks’s home. However, since several previous attempts at photographing the interior of her mansion had not matched up to her idea of how it should look, Nicks chose to recreate the interior in sympathetic lighting conditions.
Two days later later Ms Nicks summoned our photographer to a professional sound-stage at a studio near LA International airport. There, with the aid of two articulated lorries of furniture, clothes, dolls and assorted knick-knacks, she recreated her bedroom.
A staff of more that a dozen people – including caterers (note the bulging fridge), lighting men, set builders, make-up artists, hairdressers and a mysterious ‘personal assistant’ – spent a whole day recreating the authentic ambiance of Stevie’s home.
All of this was done at her own cost. But Ms Nicks is no stranger to excess. During the last Fleetwood Mac world tour she had every hotel room she stayed in redecorated to her personal taste – and at her own considerable cost.
Created by Sue Cole in May 1990
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