Fleetwood Mac’s Post-‘Rumours’ Drama Captured in These 3 Iconic Songs

Fleetwood Mac’s legacy often feels tied to the seismic impact of Rumours, an album that blurred the line between personal conflict and pop perfection. Its songs chronicled tangled romances, heartbreak, and betrayals with such raw honesty that the record became a cultural phenomenon. But to treat Rumours as the band’s only outlet for drama is to miss the chapters that unfolded long after the dust of that record settled.

The years following its release didn’t usher in peace or stability. Instead, tensions within the band simmered, transformed, and reemerged in new and equally compelling ways. Every tour, every lineup shift, and every recording session carried traces of the same combustible chemistry that had powered their earlier work. And as before, those struggles didn’t stay hidden behind the studio doors.

They poured into the music once again, resulting in tracks that stand as emotional snapshots of a group still wrestling with itself. These songs captured the bitterness, longing, and stubborn resilience that continued to define Fleetwood Mac long after Rumours had been canonized. Here, we look at three iconic examples where the band turned personal turmoil into unforgettable songs.

“Storms”

Stevie Nicks’ songwriting often worked as a mirror for her personal life, and Tusk gave her a chance to reflect on her fractured relationship with Lindsey Buckingham. While Rumours aired plenty of grievances, “Storms” took on a quieter, more introspective tone. It’s a song about loss—not just the end of romance, but the fading of intimacy and trust between two people who once shared everything.

Lines like “Every night you do not come / Your softness fades away” carry a raw ache that feels almost too private to share. Nicks no longer sounds defiant, as she often did on Rumours, but resigned to the idea that something beautiful has slipped away for good. It’s a subtle shift that makes the song one of her most vulnerable contributions to Fleetwood Mac’s catalog.

Listening to “Storms,” it’s easy to hear not just a breakup, but the heavy burden of having to relive that breakup night after night onstage with the same person. The song reminds us that for Fleetwood Mac, the wounds didn’t close quickly, and the music often became the only place they could process those lingering feelings.

“Everywhere”

At first listen, Christine McVie’s “Everywhere” doesn’t seem to belong in the same conversation as the band’s more openly bitter tracks. It’s upbeat, filled with warmth, and radiates a sense of lightness that made it one of the standout hits on Tango in the Night. But beneath the glossy production lies a personal history that added another complicated layer to its creation.

By the time the song was recorded in the late 1980s, Christine and John McVie had already gone through a divorce. That fact alone added some unspoken tension, as Christine sang about wanting to be with someone “everywhere” while her ex-husband stood just feet away playing bass. It’s the kind of dynamic only Fleetwood Mac could manage to carry off in the studio.

Christine co-wrote the track with her second husband, Eddy Quintela, which must have made the situation even more awkward. Imagine hearing your ex-wife sing a love song to another man while you’re helping to bring it to life musically. It’s a testament to the professionalism of the band, but also another example of how their personal entanglements always bled into their music.

“What Makes You Think You’re the One”

Lindsey Buckingham wasn’t content to let Stevie Nicks have the last word on Tusk. With “What Makes You Think You’re the One,” he pushed back against expectations that he’d remain her emotional anchor even after their breakup. The sharpness of the title alone suggests just how strained their dynamic had become in the wake of Rumours.

The song’s driving energy and defiant tone make it feel like a rebuttal, less wistful than Nicks’ “Storms” and more biting in its delivery. Buckingham’s lyrics—“What makes you think I’m the one / Who will catch you when you’re fallin’”—cut to the heart of his frustration. He seemed determined to establish boundaries, even if doing so came at the cost of reopening wounds.

As part of Tusk, the track reinforced the idea that Fleetwood Mac’s follow-up wasn’t about smoothing over the cracks but exposing them in even sharper detail. Rather than moving past their drama, Buckingham doubled down, proving that their music remained inseparable from the conflicts that fueled it.