I don't have the ability to be a diva. I can't flaunt. I don't have that kind of stage presence. I think of myself as just a band member.

I'm rather old-fashioned about this video business. It's all relatively new. We really don't do videos, Fleetwood Mac. We've only done two.

I tend to like the traditional sound: three-part harmonies, guitar, and piano. I mean, a well-played guitar is a joy forever... or something.

I find it hard to get excited by just a sound. I have to have a song there, then I'll find what used I can make of that sound within the song.

Learn your instrument. Be honest. Don't do anything phony. There is so much crap floating around. There is plenty of room for a bit of honest writing.

I haven't turned into some rich monster. I've kept my perspective. But I am a bit spoiled. It's hard not to be a little spoiled by having a lot of money.

I think there's a reason to go off and do something and experiment - splinter off and do something different. It keeps the nucleus of Fleetwood Mac fresh.

You get into your wellie boots and your Range Rover and, walking around with six inches of mud on your shoes, you get to forget about that more polished lifestyle.

I dearly remember the old days... Fleetwood Mac had this one-of-a-kind charm. They were gregarious, charming and cheeky onstage. Very cheeky. They'd have a good time.

When you're in the same band as somebody, you're seeing them almost more than 24 hours a day. You start to see an awful lot of the bad side 'cause touring is no easy thing.

I wouldn't think a blues album would be that commercially successful, but I don't really care. I'd do it for the love of blues, not for the money. I've got plenty of money.

The old Fleetwood Mac was much better; they did some beautiful and, to my mind, very authentic blues. Chicken Shack did pretty well in Europe, but after I left, it was over.

'Hold Me' was a nightmare! It was the middle of the desert in Palm Springs, in the height of summer. I don't know what possessed us to do that. But we sometimes do crazy things.

There's a whole bunch of unfinished stuff. Then I've got books of lyrics. I find it frustrating to finish a song and not be able to record it... so I don't write a million songs.

I suffered from some delusion that I wanted to be an English country girl, a Sloane Ranger donning the old Hunter boots and Barbour jacket to slosh around in mud with the Range Rover.

Before shows, we rub elbows and growl. It started once when someone had a cold, and we didn't want to hug each other. So we started rubbing elbows. And we don't kiss. We just go, 'Grrrr!'

I do ride a bicycle occasionally, but not those stupid stationary ones you see in gyms. I do have one of those, I must confess, but its quite literally a pain in the arse, so I dont use it.

We've always connected musically in Fleetwood Mac because we're the only people who play more than one note. I'm not the best pianist, but I know how to interlace around what Lindsey's playing.

There were a lot of bad feelings when Lindsey first left the band. But there's been a lot of healing going on, growing up, maturing. The bond is a great deal stronger than what we first thought.

I'd been virtually doing nothing in the country in 16 years of being a retired lady. Being busy walking my dogs - actually not doing anything very constructive. I made one little solo album in my garage.

I felt very at home in California, but the place is prone to earthquakes, and the one in 1994 scared the life out of me. For months afterwards, I felt that every time I sat down, I should have put on a seatbelt.

There are so many songs that have become massive hits merely because the video is great, while the song is pretty rubbish. From that point of view, I think I've always preferred to listen to a song rather than look at it.

I dont separate my work with the band from this solo project-Im sure the group could have recorded any of these, and they would have if the Fleetwood Mac project had come up at this time. I dont have any finished songs lying around.

It really comes down to Mick. He's the one who was constantly trying to get these five people in one room together. This is his love, his baby. It's his band, and there's nothing more he loves to do than get up on stage and play with us.

I was in Tower Records in San Francisco a few weeks ago, buying some cassettes, and a couple of people recognized me and ran up with albums, and I just wanted to cover my face and have a seizure or something. I want people to just go away.

I did make a solo album in my house when I was there. And because I was just afraid of flying, I wouldn't promote it, and I wouldn't tour. Actually, it wasn't a very good album anyway - it got buried underneath the pits of Hell, I suppose.

The chemistry was still there. To me, that was the biggest thing: Would the chemistry be there? Can we really go ahead and do this? And it was obvious within the first moment of plugging in the instruments that the magic was still there. It was a fantastic feeling.

I couldn't go anywhere unless there was a security guard with me. That spoiled my life. It was like being in captivity. Those days are gone, and I don't ever want to see that happen to me again. Now I can wander around the streets of Los Angeles on my own. I like it that way.

I wanted to restore an ancient house in Kent, and that's what I did. It was a heap - this Tudor building with the beams painted lime green, so hideous. And I had this idea that I'd love the small village life, with the Range Rover and the dogs and baking cookies for the Y.W.C.A. But then it got so boring.

You look out into the audience and you see so much joy on people's faces. You make eye contact with people who are almost crying because they can't believe they're seeing the Rumours five back again, they can't believe their eyes. It's almost like a family reunion on stage, there's no angst, there's no animosity, there's just tremendous amount of friendship.

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