or better or worse, we here at Stylus, in all of our autocratic consumer-crit greed, are slaves to timeliness. A record over six months old is often discarded, deemed too old for publication, a relic in the internet age. That's why each week at Stylus, one writer takes a look at an album with the benefit of time. Whether it has been unjustly ignored, unfairly lauded, or misunderstood in some fundamental way, we aim with On Second Thought to provide a fresh look at albums that need it.

What a way to close the seventies. Guitarist for one of the most successful bands ever freaks out, discovers new ways to record the band, records double album. With Lindsey Buckingham’s coked-up and sexed-out brain penning about half of the tunes on an ambitious double disc follow-up to one of the biggest selling albums ever, Fleetwood Mac turned Tusk into both their ultimate album and their downfall.

You see sexual tension is about as common to this band as guitars. In fact, when any lyrics are sung, one must suspect that they are written about a fellow band member. Keyboardist Christine McVie was married to bassist John McVie, they divorced; Singer Stevie Nicks was romantically involved with Guitarist Lindsey Buckingham, they fell apart also; Drummer Mick Fleetwood was dating Stevie Nicks in secret. It’s all very seedy seventies stuff. At any rate, it makes the story more interesting. Most of this album’s songs are about said relationships.

“The Ledge” is one of my personal favorite Fleetwood Mac tunes. The song is sparse and bouncy, the guitars are effortlessly layered. The band has never sounded so ecstatic as when they ‘sing’ along on the choruses. The sheer exuberance that they have managed to pull off in this song is unequalled among their contemporaries.

The Buckingham songs aren’t the only wonderful ones though. Christine McVie’s opener “Over and Over” begins the record on a light and whimsical tone. Her “Honey Hi” is a deceptively cutesy plea for attention. Stevie Nicks’ “Sara” (though criminally edited on the CD version) is a great song, with Nicks belting it out at the top of her game.

The album’s title track is another great ‘good ol’ crazy Lindsey’ tune. A simple but catchy guitar line plunks in. John McVie’s surgically precise bass comes in. ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? / Why don’t you tell me who’s on the phone?’ a multi-tracked Buckingham rattles out. This is him at the top of his mania. The guitar becomes increasingly fuzzed out. When the marching band comes in, it’s over. Fleetwood Mac have reached the end of where music can take them.

Selling a pitiful two million copies to Rumours’ 17 million, Tusk proved a relative commercial failure, tossing Fleetwood Mac towards (still excellent, but not as classic) territory such as Mirage /I> and the synthed-out Tango in the Night.