Pardon the holidays hiatus for my deep dive into the discography of the late great Christine McVie.
So … where’d we leave off?
That’s right: the dawn of ‘72.
March, to be exact, a mere six months since the release of their recalibrating Future Games, with Danny Kirwan now lead songwriter in the wake of Peter Green’s shell-shocked exit. Out of Fleetwood Mac’s communal home Benifold drifts this wintry afternoon of an album, landing with little impact until late April, when it dents the US countdown; in the UK it’s the second in a five-LP run that fails to crack the charts.
All the more astonishing to contemplate the platinum horizon that lie ahead of them.
Many Macolytes consider Bare Trees the group’s best from this post-Green/pre-Buckingham/Nicks era, their so-called ‘wilderness years,’ although I doubt that’s how Mick and the McVies viewed it at the time — even considering the misty starkness of John McVie’s cover photograph, far more decimated than the music within.
I’d argue individual highlights here — Christine’s two tunes, the first iteration of Bob Welch’s signature song ‘Sentimental Lady,’ several fine pieces from Kirwan — are stronger than anything on Future Games, yet it too has weak spots (‘The Chant’ screams for actual lyrics) and ultimately is less an improvement than an extension.
Given how rapidly one appeared after the other, they’d have made a solid gatefold twofer; cherry-picking the very best might have resulted in a flawless gem.
Either way, Christine’s contributions are keepers.
The cowbell-clanging foot-stomper ‘Homeward Bound’ is her first confession of disliking flying and touring, a topic that resurfaces later in ‘Temporary One.’ And ‘Spare Me a Little of Your Love’ is her first truly great song, a cornerstone of her catalog, a hint at what she’ll be writing by ‘75-‘77, and a justifiable staple of Mac shows to come.
Those galvanizing days are still a ways off. Right now, after a destructive show on the Bare Trees tour in August ‘72, Fleetwood is about to fire Kirwan over his alcoholism and alienating behavior. Adrift again, the band’s truly aimless period is about to begin.
More on ‘Sentimental Lady’:
If I were to use as a gauge most of the unsolicited-but-sage opinions and sage-but-unsolicited reviews I’ve ever read about Bare Trees, specifically discussions of ‘Sentimental Lady,’ it would seem the overwhelming majority prefers the original unvarnished version, as heard on this album, not Bob Welch’s polished and trimmed Top 10 remake from ‘77. Of course, the popularity of the latter means such logic doesn’t really hold up; surely millions made their preference known then, and still possibly now. And I side with them.
There is an undeniable charm to the original, despite Welch’s drab delivery, and I appreciate the completist desire to have the full song with all verses plus Christine’s rephrased high harmonies in the chorus. But I feel she’s more effectively used in the remake, where she’s spotlighted via a counterpoint line (‘all I need is you’) that, for my taste, absolutely lifts the tune next-level the same way the improved production and playing does. That romantic reply of hers sticks like googly eyes on an earworm of a melody; I can’t help but sing it to myself anytime I hear the original.
I also wonder if Welch and McVie didn’t consider it the better version as well — why else have taken a second swing at it? Why else would Mick Fleetwood want to lay down new drums for it? Why else would Lindsey Buckingham assist with the arranging? Apart from doing a favor for a former Mac member, methinks it’s because they knew it was a great song that nonetheless needed retooling.