Every kid who's ever had a half-decent record collection has their favorite overlooked, underappreciated, why-the-hell-haven't-we-devoted-the-entire-state-of-South Dakota-to-their-utterly-brilliant-and-amazing-career songwriter. Whether it's Richard Thompson, Sinéad O'Connor, Mark Linkous, Nick Drake, Patti Smith, Craig Wedren, etc., anyone who's ever cared has sat around and pulled out the wonderfully refreshing and naïve "Man, so-and-so is a genius. How come nobody else gets it? I mean, I know he/she's 'big' and all, but what the hell? How come I have to keep putting them on mix tapes?"
Well, the almighty king of this beautiful world is Lindsey Buckingham. Actually, let's just cut to the point. Lindsey Buckingham = fucking genius.
Have you thrown on Tusk lately? And no, not in some ironic-coke-party way. The real way, with headphones and all. Danced around and sung, sung, sung with Lindsey as he croons, "That's all for everyone. That's all for me. Last call for everyone." See? Absolute genius.
Former Fleetwood Mac brother in arms, Buckingham recently released Under the Skin, his first solo LP in 14 years, and, well—it's not that bad. Actually, it's pretty damn good. So good, in fact, that Buckingham is on the fourth leg of a tour in support of the record. In speaking with Buckingham, one gets the feeling that perhaps he's the finest songwriter outside of Dylan and Young—the man is still at the top of his game.
"You get to the point in your life where you just do what you want to do," Buckingham says. "I've shelved records like this before, just because I knew other people wanted Fleetwood Mac or something different. And I love Mac. They allow me to do this. But this is what I'm most proud of. It's like painting. I just sit at home and paint and create songs."
Lindsey Buckingham = genius painter.
He continues, "In the past, I've always tried to be a team player. I think I'm old enough now to push the boundaries and just let everything go."