'70s powerhouse still mythologically good (sans Buckingham)

At some point back in the '90s my sister blurted out, “They still love each other!” in reference to Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham during a televised Fleetwood Mac concert special (for this tour, Buckingham has been let go by the band, replaced by Neil Finn and Mike Campbell). We laughed, but honestly, that always felt like the best way to approach Fleetwood Mac. It was more soap opera than band, as you followed the loves and betrayals from album to album.

What elevated Fleetwood Mac beyond the unending, tawdry rumors was how good the band's hits were. The bandmates may not have been able to keep it out of some combination of their noses and pants, but human failings aside, you would be hard pressed to find a more talented group of musicians under one banner. The one-two punch of Fleetwood Mac and Rumours defined a whole swath of music in the latter '70s, the Hollywood cocaine cowboy-iest of all the Hollywood cocaine cowboys, while maintaining a degree of British frigidity under the surface.

The band was its own yin and yang, male and female, push and pull. Of course they were all sleeping with each other. Like something out of Campbell's mythologies, Fleetwood Mac needed the sacrifice of its love like the gods of yore. Wow, they must have driven ABBA right up the wall. (Safe bet)