Uncompromising, poses Rob Trucks in The Warning Shot to his installment of Continuums album-didactic novella series, comes up missing in adjectives barnacled to 1979 Fleetwood Mac opus Tusk. Trucks own wagging member, Tusk, offers no less.
The authors feisty read notched only my second toe dipped into the 33 1/3 set, now up to 83 titles, including five reviewed in this weeks rock & roll Summer Reading. My debut inkling, John Darnielles immersion in Black Sabbath doom merchant Master of Reality, had more to do with the Mountain Goats singer-songwriter doing the spilling than the actual subject matter. Darnielles masterful pay-off and Trucks personal and reportorial case for the follow-up to one of the best-selling albums in music history Fleetwood Macs Rumors found me scanning Tusks endpage of further treatises (hello Joe Bonomo’s Highway to Hell) besides a 33 1/3 thesis to the Rolling Stones Some Girls, which arrived here at the paper alongside this particular volume.
Music is personal.
Tusk is a symbol.
So goes Trucks Tusk mantra, and beyond its expertly winnowed front and backstory including reminder that the LP title stemmed from band founder Mick Fleetwoods love of penis jokes the white elephant herders journalistic revelations and general insight add yet more layers to the double albums controversial standing. Foremost in evidentiary delights are testimonials from New Pornographer A.C. Newman, Wolf Parade, Kaki King, and Steely Dans Walter Egan, and even more so personally, a quote from a Chronicle Q&A in which Tusk architect Lindsey Buckingham becomes the Terrence Malik of rock!
Better still, the idea of Tusk as another of the eras punk and New Wave-influenced classic rock upticks see the Stones Some Girls, the Whos Who Are You, the Kinks Low Budget and Give the People What They Want further cements in Trucks interviews with Buckingham and his evocation of Pet Sounds in that both Brian Wilson and Buckingham created high art out of chaos that despite insane group dynamics was wholly individualistic. Tusks extreme left turn out of Rumors is analogous to the Clash sprawling out of London Calling with triple-LP Sandinista, a favorite citation personally.
Music is a symbol.
Tusk is personal.
Some of us got Tusk right away, even at 14. What was there to get anyway? Instead of 11 compositions divided among three preternaturally gifted singer-songwriters (Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, and Christine McVie), now there was 20 peak tracks with a lot less filler than on Exile on Main Street for example. Rumors was/is perfect, of course ubiquitous as wallpaper but two years after its 1977 release, a sea change in popular music was already washing away its sponsoring decade like so many bad Zeppelin bootlegs. In hindsight, the phenomenal success of Rumors caps its era, the 1970s, while its successor Tusk embodies the herky-jerky quirk of a New Wave.
And who says Tusk isnt Rumors II? Okay, everyone. Yet Macs ever fracturing romanticism remains rife in Buckinghams caustic What Makes You Think Youre the One and Stevie Nicks hit Sara, generally accepted as a chronicle of Mick Fleetwoods moving on from his liaison with the groups gypsy to her close friend and Sara Recor. Length, production, sequencing, and specifically Lindsey Buckingham unbound all fracture Tusk out of Rumors II territory, edging it closer to the realm of new sounds up inside the guitarists tweaking head the Talking Heads, Elvis Costello. Tusk was/is brilliant in a way Fleetwood Mac would never repeat.
Rob Trucks is a symbol.
Tusk is Tusk.
With admiration for Tusk the books interviewee chapter stops:
Raoul Hernandezs favorite track off Tusk: Not That Funny
Least Favorite track off Tusk: Beautiful Child
Favorite Lindsey Buckingham song off Tusk: Tusk
Favorite Stevie Nicks song off Tusk: Angel
Favorite Christine McVie song off Tusk: Brown Eyes
This article appears in July 15 • 2011.



