Rumours, Fleetwood Mac’s record of 1977, has become monolithic: a cultural landmark and a wellspring for generations of listeners to turn to. A staggering achievement, but even more staggering is that the band managed to make the album at all, considering the tensions, turmoil, and (also staggering) quantity of cocaine that defined its production. Yet the music prevailed, and now — with late-stage outtake “Silver Springs” rehabilitated to the Fleetwood Mac canon by 2013’s deluxe reissue — it’s time to rank the twelve tracks that make up Rumours.
- I Don’t Wanna Know
“I Don’t Wanna Know” plays like a composite of all the other tracks on Rumours, and their pleasures endure better than the ephemeral, waspish fun on show here. Which is still a lot of fun, mind, with John McVie’s bass riding up high in the mix, butting between Nicks’ and Buckingham’s harmonising hatred. - You Make Loving Fun
Here’s a foretaste of the Tango in the Night album, all lush and glittering with sensuality. The architect of that sound was Christine McVie, and here she got her husband John to play on a song about her sleeping with the band’s lighting director. No wonder the sighing soundscape sounds so charmingly illicit. - Second Hand News
Scrappy, scatty, loose, but my: dropping the needle on an old vinyl copy to hear those first acoustic chords summoned and strummed out of nowhere, is like an timeless conjuring trick. The final chorus ebbs away just as pleasingly, setting up all that’s to come with perfect nonchalance. - Gold Dust Woman
“Take your silver spoon, dig your grave”. The most thematically opaque song on Rumours is also its most atmospheric, as the dusky, downright dangerous Fleetwood Mac of “The Chain” emerges again, and Stevie’s sensational lyricism sends us off in the final whirling tempest that closes the album, leaving us all to “pick up the pieces and go home”. - Oh Daddy
Whisper it quietly, but this is Rumours’ most underappreciated track — the emotional pillar of side two — and it sounds like a slice of smoky nighttime, with Christine’s wracked storytelling blending with John’s melodic bass and Buckingham’s flickers of finger-picked guitar. Less showy than other songs, but for the album to flow — it’s essential. - Don’t Stop
Perennially overplayed, “Don’t Stop” is ubiquitous enough that Bill Clinton picked it as his campaign theme (though “You Make Loving Fun” might’ve been more apposite). But none can argue with those opening chords, nor the bouncing, rollicking, joy of the whole thing. It’s deeply contagious. (This is Lindsey and Christine singing a song she wrote for John after divorcing him, if you’re having trouble keeping up.) - The Chain
It’s rare that a band captures their entire mythos in a single song. ‘The Chain’ — the only one where they all cash a writing credit — is, in words and song, this incarnation of Fleetwood Mac. It’s a five-way Mexican standoff, a monster of emotion and vigour. When John’s bass cues up that unforgettable final coda, they sound like a band tearing themselves to shreds. What would happen without that chain? - Go Your Own Way
“Packing up, shacking up’s all you wanna do”. Gee, talk about shooting from the hip! Buckingham’s anger finds a prime receptacle. He smarts, and the guitar shows it, storming off in raging spirals. Fleetwood’s offbeat percussion in the verses underlines the mood. The chorus can’t be denied: that refrain will never age. This is still the Mac hit most likely to whip a crowd into a frenzy. - Never Going Back Again
Those opening strums still roll in as fresh as the North Sea breeze through an open window. Buckingham puts his wounded ego to the side to bring us just over two minutes of golden-toned, meticulously strummed, airy guitar. It’s a strong vocal take, too. “Never Going Back Again” is a tour-de-force in musical technicianship, and Lindsey’s best moment on the record. - Dreams
Perhaps it’s overplayed, but as a thrilling counterpart to ‘Go Your Own Way’ — and as a cultural touchstone still brimming with virality — ‘Dreams’ remains a worthy icon: the groove it sets down as mellifluous as ever, crowned with Nicks’ honey-daggers voice and wise words. And of course it’s Stevie’s song, but the supporting musicianship is strong as ever, with her vocals breaking pleasingly against the banks of McVie’s bass. All these years later, ‘Dreams’ still shimmers with celestial quality. - Songbird
If every other track might be more intricate or blazing, there’s still no denying “Songbird” and its simplicity: not to mention, Rumours’ strongest melody. Christine McVie explained that this song really did come to her in the middle of the night, as in a dream — and it sounds spectral, and heavenly; barely believably so. In the howling tempest of Rumours, some respite, some salve, is needed. Here is that ghostly oasis, the sweetness at the chaos’ heart, the jewel of a lake in the crown of the mountains. - Silver Springs
Buckingham got all his jabs in: Nicks was forced to spike her finest riposte. But “Silver Springs” cannot be denied: not when its big refrain begins, electric and acoustic guitars melt into one, and the bass perfectly ramps up over them, driving the song on, pushing it to the heavens. Presiding over it all is Nicks: determined and desperate, such a star, never better, never bettered.
“FLEETWOOD MAC, RUMOURS,” by badgreeb RECORDS – art -photos is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.