'Everything got somewhat decadent': the making of Fleetwood Mac's punk epic

As the album Tusk’ turns 45 this week, Lindsey Buckingham speaks to Mark Beaumont about those storied sessions, and going his own way after the commercial success of Rumours’

- Mark Beaumont

For Lindsey Buckingham, making Tusk was akin to following Jurassic Park with some small indie cult flick. “Here we are in Spielberg-land,” he says of life after selling 16 million copies of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours in 1977, en route to its eventual 40 million global sales. “But if you’re willing to do what you want to do and lose nine-tenths of your audience, then you’re Jim Jarmusch or somebody. That’s what I’ve been valuing ever since Tusk.”

On its 1979 release, 45 years ago this week, Tusk was one of the boldest, bravest, and most bewildering records in rock’n’roll history, the very grandest of rock follies. Fleetwood Mac were following Rumours, the ninth-best-selling album of all time, with this experimental, often ramshackle double record full of junkyard clatter, Kleenex box drums and a full-on marching band. A record that was willing to risk the sort of monumental folk-rock success most bands can only dream of in order to stay creatively invigorated and relevant within an evolving post-punk landscape.

At the time, Tusk sold four million albums: a career-making phenomenon for most acts but a major knockback for Fleetwood Mac. However, as their late-Seventies era has been rediscovered and re-evaluated by subsequent generations, Tusk has become regarded as a triumph of art and creativity over the crass demands of mainstream commerce.