Fm – Greatest Hits

Let me tell you about the album that soundtracked a million divorce proceedings and somehow made everyone involved filthy rich in the process. Fleetwood Mac’s “Greatest Hits” isn’t just a compilation—it’s the aural equivalent of lightning captured in a cocaine vial.

You know that friend who claims they “don’t really listen to Fleetwood Mac” but somehow knows every word to “Dreams”? This collection is for them. And for you. And for anyone who’s ever found themselves driving down a coastal highway with the windows down, wondering where it all went wrong with their ex.

The Mac that dominates this collection isn’t the British blues outfit that Peter Green founded—it’s the California-dreamin’, partner-swappin’, stadium-fillin’ behemoth that emerged when Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham joined the fray in the mid-70s. From the moment “Rhiannon” kicks in (track one, side one for those of us who remember vinyl), you’re transported to a world where personal devastation somehow translates into perfect pop.

Nicks prowls through these tracks like a gold-dust woman in platform boots, her distinctive rasp somehow both vulnerable and commanding. There’s a reason why an entire generation of women twirled scarves and adopted her witchy aesthetic. When she sings “Thunder only happens when it’s raining” on “Dreams,” you believe her, even though meteorologically speaking, it’s utter nonsense.

Buckingham’s contributions here showcase a man who could channel romantic bitterness into guitar hooks sharp enough to draw blood. “Go Your Own Way” remains the most passive-aggressive kiss-off in rock history—a song so catchy that the person it was written about (Stevie, obviously) had to perform it night after night for decades.

And let’s not forget Christine McVie, the secret weapon whose silky vocals and keyboard work provided the emotional ballast for the band’s more theatrical tendencies. “You Make Loving Fun”—a song she wrote about her affair with the band’s lighting director while still married to bassist John McVie—demonstrates her ability to transform messy reality into something sublime.

I once met a roadie who worked on the “Tusk” tour who told me that during one particularly heated backstage argument, Mick Fleetwood separated Buckingham and Nicks by physically picking Stevie up and carrying her to another room while she continued screaming obscenities. The next night, they performed a flawless show as if nothing had happened. That is the miracle of this band—dysfunction alchemized into musical gold.

This collection, certified 8 million times platinum, is the perfect gateway drug for the uninitiated and a reminder for the rest of us why these songs have embedded themselves in our cultural DNA. The extended version of “Sara” alone is worth the price of admission—a dreamy, hypnotic track that supposedly references Nicks’ terminated pregnancy with Don Henley (though she is been characteristically mysterious about its true meaning).

If you’ve somehow made it this far in life without owning this essential piece of rock history, remedy that situation immediately. Play it loud enough and you might just hear the sound of heartbreak and harmony perfectly balanced—like teetering on the edge of a cliff while knowing you can fly.