This is an absurdly arranged bootleg compilation from 2019 that would require at least two more LPs to do justice to its misleading title. Yet it’s an almost essential addition if someone (like me) is attempting to acquire on vinyl every recording involving Christine McVie.
The problem is that most of the Many Faces presented in the set’s first half are relatively inconsequential when it comes to Fleetwood Mac’s lengthy list of lineups.
I adore Neil Finn and think Mike Campbell (of Tom Petty’s Heartbreakers) ranks among rock’s unjustly less-heralded guitar greats, but even they would admit their Mac involvement has been minimal, having forged a two-pronged substitution for Lindsey Buckingham since 2018. Still, here they are on Side 2, Finn supporting Jonatha Brooke (not Jonathan, as the back cover misstates) on ‘New Dress’ and Campbell represented via his instrumental rendition of Bob Marley’s ‘Jammin’.’
Dave Mason is another unnecessary figure — not historically speaking, of course, he’s a Hall of Famer for valid reasons, but his FM tenure was limited to the mid-‘90s when the band made its most forgettable album, Time (’95). Allotting him two tunes in this hodgepodge seems like two too many.
A stronger case can be made for Billy Burnette, who we’ll look at more closely in this series’ next post. His take on Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’ isn’t an ideal intro, though.
The bulk of this material, actually, hails from a lost Walter Egan album that probably should have remained missing.
Egan, as ‘70s radio and Boogie Nights fans will recall, hit big in ’78 with his sultry stroll ‘Magnet and Steel,’ inspired by Stevie Nicks, who sings backup alongside Lindsey — who incidentally produced Egan’s ’77 debut, Fundamental Roll.
By ’85, when Egan had become momentarily famous again as a game-show champion on Catchphrase, he recorded but shelved a set that featured contributions from Lindsey and Christine. Eventually released on CD in 2000, their songs are all included here.
Are they worth hearing?
In a word: no.
Buckingham provides serviceable fretwork while vocally floating around in the background of his two tracks, ‘Jean’ and ‘Someone Like You.’
Thankfully, McVie is more noticeably useful on her Egan tunes. ‘Only Love Is Left Alive’ seems like the one he maybe thought had hit potential (if he’d issued it five years earlier, maybe) as it has a catchy-adjacent chorus, synthetic energy and, best of all by far, Christine’s unmistakeable vocal counterpart, which at time has uncharacteristic bite to it.
‘Silvery Sleep’ is less intriguing despite its grander aim, fusing a rudimentary melody seemingly cribbed from a Christmas carol to production that wishes it were Spectorian. McVie harmonizes here and there and adds oohs/ahhs in the background, but she’s still instantly detectable.
Is that enough to suggest anyone else purchase this? Hardly. Nor is the second LP, comprising repeats and outtakes from their ’97 reunion The Dance. But, fanatic addict that I am, I’m still glad I got it. Plus I love flamingos, which means I appreciate the cover. Reminds you of Christopher Cross’s debut too, doesn’t it?