Was this the lowest moment of Mick Fleetwood’s life?
The highs and lows of Fleetwood Mac can rightly be traced through its founding member, Mick Fleetwood.
As his name should suggest, he has been the stalwart in this ever-changing merry-go-round of dramatic rock stars. Be it in the heady days of the London blues scene, where the band first cut their teeth as a band. They followed the charismatic lead of Peter Green, a musician so talented and alluring that their place in the future halls of fame was practically a given until they weren’t, when Green spiralled into a state of drug-induced madness and left the band, without a frontman and without a discernible sound.
Having been kicked out of a band himself, and now having the ticket to greatness scratched from his grasp, Fleetwood would have rightly been despondent and unsure of whether a long-term life in music awaited him. That was until fate threw him one last Hail Mary and delivered Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks on a plate. Together, the pair shifted the band’s flight path and pushed it into the spacey realms of dream pop, where music immortality awaited.
After two triumphant albums – their 1975 self-titled record and the timeless Rumours – it seemed as though the days of career destitution were well and truly behind Fleetwood. But fame and success have a wicked way of humbling musicians, and in the early 1980s, when the sparkle of Fleetwood Mac’s dream machine began to fade, Mick Fleetwood realised that.
Their latest album, Tusk, hinted towards what might be a slow creative decline for the band, expedited by their relentless drug use, which had been around since the days of Rumours. In a bid to salvage the situation, Fleetwood took on the role of band manager. A job which seemed suited to him as the founding member, but as a rampant drug addict, was anything but. He left the band broke and was subsequently fired as manager.
That led to a series of questionable financial decisions, which included the lavish purchase of a home in Los Angeles and a 1000-acre farm in Australia. Eventually, he declared bankruptcy and entered what he will always remember as the darkest period of his career.
“Everything about him became little,” Christine McVie said in 1997, remembering the desperate sadness that came with seeing her friend like this. “He wasn’t walking with his shoulders straight like he always used to. It was sad to see that. He didn’t seem happy, didn’t know how to function unless he was high. He would just sleep the whole time – just hooked on drugs, about as low as he could get.”
The expensive life of his LA home felt worlds away, as his financial ruin resulted in a rapid decline in living standards. McVie said, “I remember him telling me he was living in somebody’s basement with a damp carpet.”
Adding, “The carpet was soaking wet, and the bed was damp, and he used to lie in bed watching soap operas all day long.”
Eventually, it was a record that brought Fleetwood out of his slump. Tango In The Night may not have been the band’s best work, but it was a project that brought the five musicians back together, and suddenly, the renewed sense of purpose that came with being the band’s spiritual leader revitalised Fleetwood.
