| # | Track Title | Artist | Composer | Time |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Rhiannon | Stevie Nicks | 4:12 | |
| 2 | Don't Stop | Christine McVie | 3:12 | |
| 3 | Go Your Own Way | Lindsey Buckingham | 3:39 | |
| 4 | Hold Me | Christine McVie, Robbie Patton | 3:46 | |
| 5 | Everywhere | Christine McVie | 3:42 | |
| 6 | Gypsy | Stevie Nicks | 4:25 | |
| 7 | You Make Loving Fun | Christine McVie | 3:32 | |
| 8 | As Long As You Follow | Christine McVie | 4:10 | |
| 9 | Dreams | Stevie Nicks | 4:15 | |
| 10 | Say You Love Me | Christine McVie | 4:10 | |
| 11 | Tusk | Lindsey Buckingham | 3:30 | |
| 12 | Little Lies | Christine McVie, Eddy Quintela | 3:38 | |
| 13 | Sara | Stevie Nicks | 6:23 | |
| 14 | Big Love | Lindsey Buckingham | 3:39 | |
| 15 | Over My Head | Christine McVie | 3:35 | |
| 16 | No Questions Asked | Stevie Nicks | 4:41 | |
| Total Time: | 1:04:29 | |||
Album Notes
Cover Concept by Dennis Dunstan
Art Direction by Fleetwood Mac
Design by Larry Vigon Studio
Photo by Herbert W Worthington III
Liner Notes by Stephen Davis
Studio Coordinator John Courage
Guitar Doctor Ray Lindsey
Keyboard Programming Dan Garfield
Studio Crew Tim McCarthy and Reedo (Belt Man) Reed
Special Thanks to:
Clyde Bakkemo, David Bloom, John Branca, Colato, Tom Cobleigh, Bill Cooper, Jerome Cohen, John Courage, Steve Crowes, Tony Dimitriades, Dennis Dunstan, Don Gehman, Gibson/Epiphone, Mario Gonzales, John Good, George Hawkins, Jeri Heiden, Michael Huber, Brian Jackson, Ray Lindsey, Gerry Margolis, Dennis Mays, Mo Ostin, Michael Ostin, Glen Parrish, Paiste, Richard Podolor, Chris Polis, Mark Ryden, Remo, Alex Scott, Tama, Lenny Waronker, Steve Wax, Judy Wong, Keith Wren
Love and Happiness to Lindsey from all of us.
Wembley, northern London, late May of Eighty Eight. England plays Scotland for UK football bragging rights on Saturday and huge colored banners wave smartly in the wind atop the parapets of the stadium. Tango In The Night is the number one record in England for the second time, and Fleetwood Mac has sold out ten nights at Wembley Arena, eight years after last playing in its native land.
''Thirty minutes'' calls Wayne Cody, continuing his traditional countdown to showtime. An hour earlier Fleetwood Mac (Mark XI) had convened onstage for the day's soundcheck and a brief rehearsal. For twenty minutes the great band burns away to the giant empty hall, stopping to re-weave the three voice harmony to their current British hit single: ''Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...''
Now the band and its corps of rock soldiers are pacing and chatting and waiting out the anxious minutes right before a show. And there's cause for some nervousness. A royal prince has tickets tonight and has been invited backstage after the show. And there are the fans, some of whom have been paying to see Fleetwood Mac for more than twenty years. The backstage consensus is that tonight would not be a good night for a less-than-magic show.
Twenty minutes!
John McVie sits in the dressing room, smoking, relaxed, tight but loose. He says that when he was asked to join Fleetwood Mac during the summer of 1967, he declined and took a kif holiday in Morocco instead. Mick Fleetwood, six feet six inches of King Lear intensity, studies his costume and makeup in the mirror, issues many vague orders and great oaths, and says something about the wild days of the young Mac in the sixties. Christine Perfect McVie slips into the men's dressing room with a knowing smile. Slender, beautiful and elegant, she banters with the boys, her regal but unassuming demeanor instantly grabbing the moment.
Stevie Nicks is in the dressing room she shares with Christine; she is not to be seen, preferring to prepare for Fleetwood Mac's return in seclusion, like a bride.
Ten minutes...
Back in the boy's room Billy Burnette is trying on a black silk shirt from a shop in Bond Street. Three hundred and fifty quid for a shirt, but Billy's band has sold out 10 nights at Wembley so it's OK. With a laugh and a flash of black eyes, Mr. Burnette, a real gentleman, accepts the B12 shot offered by the comical English tour doc. New guitarist Rick Vito sits next to Mick at the mirror. As a teenager in Philadelphia he paid to see the original Mac in 1968 when they were just becoming known in the States. Playing here in London Rick Vito has a strange feeling, as thoughhe were stepping into some pretty heavy shoes indeed.
Five minutes!
Etc. etc.
Art Direction by Fleetwood Mac
Design by Larry Vigon Studio
Photo by Herbert W Worthington III
Liner Notes by Stephen Davis
Studio Coordinator John Courage
Guitar Doctor Ray Lindsey
Keyboard Programming Dan Garfield
Studio Crew Tim McCarthy and Reedo (Belt Man) Reed
Special Thanks to:
Clyde Bakkemo, David Bloom, John Branca, Colato, Tom Cobleigh, Bill Cooper, Jerome Cohen, John Courage, Steve Crowes, Tony Dimitriades, Dennis Dunstan, Don Gehman, Gibson/Epiphone, Mario Gonzales, John Good, George Hawkins, Jeri Heiden, Michael Huber, Brian Jackson, Ray Lindsey, Gerry Margolis, Dennis Mays, Mo Ostin, Michael Ostin, Glen Parrish, Paiste, Richard Podolor, Chris Polis, Mark Ryden, Remo, Alex Scott, Tama, Lenny Waronker, Steve Wax, Judy Wong, Keith Wren
Love and Happiness to Lindsey from all of us.
Wembley, northern London, late May of Eighty Eight. England plays Scotland for UK football bragging rights on Saturday and huge colored banners wave smartly in the wind atop the parapets of the stadium. Tango In The Night is the number one record in England for the second time, and Fleetwood Mac has sold out ten nights at Wembley Arena, eight years after last playing in its native land.
''Thirty minutes'' calls Wayne Cody, continuing his traditional countdown to showtime. An hour earlier Fleetwood Mac (Mark XI) had convened onstage for the day's soundcheck and a brief rehearsal. For twenty minutes the great band burns away to the giant empty hall, stopping to re-weave the three voice harmony to their current British hit single: ''Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...''
Now the band and its corps of rock soldiers are pacing and chatting and waiting out the anxious minutes right before a show. And there's cause for some nervousness. A royal prince has tickets tonight and has been invited backstage after the show. And there are the fans, some of whom have been paying to see Fleetwood Mac for more than twenty years. The backstage consensus is that tonight would not be a good night for a less-than-magic show.
Twenty minutes!
John McVie sits in the dressing room, smoking, relaxed, tight but loose. He says that when he was asked to join Fleetwood Mac during the summer of 1967, he declined and took a kif holiday in Morocco instead. Mick Fleetwood, six feet six inches of King Lear intensity, studies his costume and makeup in the mirror, issues many vague orders and great oaths, and says something about the wild days of the young Mac in the sixties. Christine Perfect McVie slips into the men's dressing room with a knowing smile. Slender, beautiful and elegant, she banters with the boys, her regal but unassuming demeanor instantly grabbing the moment.
Stevie Nicks is in the dressing room she shares with Christine; she is not to be seen, preferring to prepare for Fleetwood Mac's return in seclusion, like a bride.
Ten minutes...
Back in the boy's room Billy Burnette is trying on a black silk shirt from a shop in Bond Street. Three hundred and fifty quid for a shirt, but Billy's band has sold out 10 nights at Wembley so it's OK. With a laugh and a flash of black eyes, Mr. Burnette, a real gentleman, accepts the B12 shot offered by the comical English tour doc. New guitarist Rick Vito sits next to Mick at the mirror. As a teenager in Philadelphia he paid to see the original Mac in 1968 when they were just becoming known in the States. Playing here in London Rick Vito has a strange feeling, as thoughhe were stepping into some pretty heavy shoes indeed.
Five minutes!
Etc. etc.