When asked to describe the recording of Rumours to Rolling Stone, Christine McVie had one word: “Drama. Dra-ma.” Rumors is one of rock’s most famous, unhappy love stories, yet one of the most adored and replayed albums even 45 years after its release.
Fleetwood Mac created this album that turn them into a cultural phenomenon in the twilight hour of rock n’ roll in the late 1970s. It encapsulated the essence of a time where everyone was on a different path to discover their personal freedom- 60s rock was the past, disco was the present, and the future seemed to be somewhere up ahead in a fog of burnt out hippies, social power, and a balance of love and destruction in all of its forms.
It would be easy to say that today's listeners are drawn to the drama of the Fleetwood Mac band members as if they were characters on their favorite reality T.V. show- the millennial generation has an overwhelming addiction to the dramatic lives of complete strangers- but that’s not quite it. New and old listeners alike find comfort in Rumours’ timeless lyrics, soft jams, the seamless flow of genuine story-telling and the way that it sets itself apart from all other forms of popular music.
Disco was the driving force of pop music in the 70s. The Bee Gees were riding high with “Stayin’ Alive,” and it seemed ABBA had everyone up on their feet grooving to “Dancing Queen.” Lindsey Buckingham reportedly went into the studio to make “a pop album” in 1976, but came out with something totally incomparable to the hit records of the time.
The sound of Rumours was new and fresh when it was released in 1977, and never got stale. The album has a hippie soul that mirrored the folk/rock essence of that generation; an essence that has not been erased, but has evolved over the past 45 years. We see it thriving in bands like Fleet Foxes, The Lumineers, and the Avett Brothers. Rumours almost feels like the wise grandfather of all of this great music that followed, and just like we would a grandparent, we pay it a visit every so often.
The stories told on this album are complicated and heartbreaking, but shared in powerful harmonies and acoustic guitars. You can blast this album alone in your room and treat yourself to an emo singalong, or play it as mood music to your Friday night pregame if you’re looking for a crowd pleaser- I’ve done both, and can say they’re equally satisfying.
This album had its fair share of hits, the biggest being the warm and omniscient “Dreams,” followed by the cathartic “Go Your Own Way.” But it was a deeper cut that ties this album together with the loop of a messy bow. “The Chain” kicks off the second side of the album like a major on-stage production opening act two, with the raise of a curtain and a jaw-dropping performance. Not only does this song rock a little harder, but it is the only song on the album credited to all five band members.
The song came together from a bunch of different pieces, which is why they called it “The Chain.” Christine McVie came in with a partial keyboard arrangement. Buckingham decided the song needed a bridge, and they settled on an ominous bass line brought in by John McVie. Stevie Nicks worked backwards to plug in some lyrics after the song sat untouched for some time. “The Chain” might have been the most messy track to put together, but it bloomed into something perfect, as the rest of the album did, and as everything great usually does.
Rumours’ lyrics, melodies, and stories are simply timeless. This album will always be great, and we’re glad it made it through the “dra-ma” of the 1970s and into 45 years of music-loving life.