Lindsey Buckingham has worn many hats over the years; amazing guitarist and vocalist in several groups, one of which was one of the biggest groups of the 1970s, and most famously, former lover of one miss Stevie Nicks. But one of the aspects of his career that has been passed over is that of a producer.

Buckingham pretty much stuck to producing his friends, namely Walter Egan and former Kingston Trio member John Stewart. But what Buckingham lacked in prolificacy, he made up for in quality.

Riding the success of Rumours, Buckingham, a John Stewart fanatic, signed on (with Nicks in tow) to produce a pop leaning album for the former folkie, 1979’s Bombs Away Dream Babies. Buckingham delivered in spades. With the single “Gold,” he gave Stewart a modern rock shuffle mixed with a bit of the ‘60s California music sound and a little bit of funk for good measure. In the end, he came up with what amounted to….well…basically a Fleetwood Mac song with Stewart on vocals. But regardless, it’s a damn good Fleetwood Mac song, one that would surely be counted as one of their best had it appeared on Rumours. Nobody has a way with muted electric guitars coupled with a compressed bass like Lindsey Buckingham. It’s a unique sound I’ve rarely heard outside of Buckingham’s work and it works perfectly here. Those guitars married with an electric piano, Buckingham’s ringing lead guitar, and of course, Stevie Nicks’s perfect backing vocals takes this lyrical indictment of the L.A. music scene and recording industry to the next level and makes it downright swing.

Walter Egan made two albums, Fundamental Roll and Not Shy, and both albums are classics of the ‘70s California Rock genre that included Fleetwood Mac and the Eagles among others. Though listed as producer, Buckingham was only marginally involved with Roll, which is a little more country-rock than its successor (Egan had one of his original compositions recorded by Gram Parsons on Grievous Angel). “Only the Lucky” is a lost classic, a song that with its easy, breezy summertime pop quality could have just as easily shot to the top of the charts. But that just as easily could be said about any number of Egan’s songs—the man simply knew his way around a hit, even if they didn’t all reach that status.

With his next album, Not Shy, Buckingham became more directly involved, and the music became even poppier, with lyrics that echoed the carefree romantic lyrics of popular music of the ‘50s and ‘60s. Buckingham’s hand isn’t as heavy as on Stewart’s album. Buckingham simply lets Egan do his thing, but the producer’s clear love for ‘60s pop music is apparent, with Nicks’ at her best as the angelic backing vocalist on most all of the songs. This album actually gave Egan his one hit (“Magnet & Steel”) but with infectious, fun-loving songs like “Finally Found a Girlfriend,” one has to wonder what was working against this man to make him only a one-hit wonder.

Perhaps the best example of Buckingham’s production was Buckingham’s sprawling, overstuffed, probably cocaine-fueled Tusk. In 1979, with both Fleetwood Mac and Rumours under their belt, the band was able to indulge itself a bit. Only, the record company (Reprise) apparently didn’t realize that when you allow Lindsey Buckingham to indulge a little, he gives you a twenty track double-LP filled with music that has more in common with the Beach Boys’ Smile and the then-burgeoning New Wave movement than with “Rhiannon” or “Go Your Own Way.”

Tusk is a masterwork, and shows off Buckingham’s production skills at their best; the man would never be better or more out there than he was on these tracks. Giving even the most pop-oriented songs slightly off-kilter production and arrangements, Buckingham may have intentionally ruined his chances at another massive success. Calling it avant garde would be going too far, but it’s definitely not what the mainstream was expecting. However, listening to the songs now and its clear Buckingham was ahead of his time. With a track like “I Know I’m Not Wrong,” with its Africa by way of the Appalachians sound, Buckingham predates Paul Simon’s Graceland by nearly a decade.

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