This is far from the final installment in my deep dive into Christine McVie’s discography; there are 15 more posts to write after this one. But it is the last (thus far) of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘alternate’ albums comprising demos and different takes of material both beloved and overlooked.
That nothing from this wildly original musical was Oscar-nominated — most notably ‘So May We Start,’ which provides one of the most arresting movie openings in recent memory — is a travesty that, like so many other snubs, calls into question the judgments and motivations of voters.
Is this the last great Fleetwood Mac album or would that be the one before this, or even the one before that?
Revisiting A&M Records No. 34
Claudine Longet: ‘Love Is Blue’ (April ’68, possibly earlier)
Say this much for that ingenue de chanson then equally known as Mrs. Andy Williams: back in the ‘60s she had exquisite taste. Or, at least, the men (entirely men) shaping her sound and style did, though I can’t fathom even such a lightweight artist agreeing to sing just anything placed before her.
You tell me: should a collector be absolutely precise and file this under N for ‘National Lampoon’s Animal House’ or ease up on being so exact and stick it under A for how it’s commonly known?
All things considered — including her then-label’s rejection of an earlier version, a three-year delay and overhaul, virtually zero promotional support for a hodgepodge that would mark the end of her tenure at Warner Bros. — this is still a fairly solid Bonnie Raitt album.
For this 38th (!) splash within my deep dive into Christine McVie’s complete catalog, only one song from the soundtrack to Blake Edwards’s largely forgotten comedy A Fine Mess matters: her straightforward yet lovely cover of the Elvis Presley classic ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’
By now this sort of passed-over obscurity ought to be an unsurprising discovery to anyone still following my extensive peer into every facet of Christine McVie’s discography.
Danny Douma, Robbie Patton, Billy Burnette — these largely forgotten singer-songwriters all crossed her path at some point too, and in most cases wound up sharing credits on McVie hits. So it is with this fellow, Todd Sharp, who’d been lingering on the fringe of Fleetwood Mac circles since his time playing in Bob Welch’s band and contributing to Mick Fleetwood’s Zoo.
Revisiting A&M Records No. 32
‘Liza Minnelli’ (February ’68)
Despite its self-titling, this is far from the debut of Judy’s daughter. By the time she was about to turn 22 and relaunch her recording career via the auspices of Mr. A & Mr. M, Minnelli had already issued three LPs for Capitol Records, starting with ‘Liza! Liza!’ in ’64, the same year she embarked on her first national theatrical run as Luisa in the touring production of ‘The Fantasticks.’
But the reality remained that after four years of working her young tail off — including landing the lead in ‘Flora the Red Menace,’ her Broadway debut — Liza was still struggling to step out from her mother’s formidable shadow.
