Edge of Seventeen

Forty years ago, Stevie Nicks struck out from Fleetwood Mac, launched a solo career – and created a truly iconic song in the process. Nick Levine explores its power and influence.

For even the greatest rock and pop stars, striking out from the band that made their name can be a major challenge – just witness Mick Jagger's solo career. But one musical legend who had no trouble asserting her independence is Stevie Nicks. 

When she went solo in earnest 40 years ago, the woman who had been integral to Fleetwood Mac's transformation into the world's biggest band carved out an identity as a star in her own right. She didn't just make a chart-topping album, Bella Donna, but came up with a stunning anthem that only seems to grow more popular with age.

Edge of Seventeen wasn't the first or highest-charting single from Nicks' debut record Bella Donna. It was preceded by Stop Draggin' My Heart Around, a melodramatic collaboration with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, and Leather and Lace, a more delicate duet with the Eagles' Don Henley, both of which cracked the US top ten. 

But more than any other Stevie Nicks solo moment, Edge of Seventeen has entranced subsequent generations and helped to define the singer's standing as a rock icon: not just as member of Fleetwood Mac, but as an artist in her own right. 

It's a song that operates on several levels – at once an instant hit of rock drama and a heady meditation on death – and seems to yield something new every time you play it. Its distinctive 16th-note guitar riff – played by Waddy Wachtel, a legendary session musician who also worked with Cher and The Rolling Stones – remains electrifying every time you hear it.  READ MORE

1967 Rock

 From Far Out Magazine...

1967 is the year that the ‘Summer of Love’ fully blossomed into a psychedelic flower. The epicentre of the golden age of counter-cultural psychedelic rock began in San Francisco but found its influence spreading all over the world like wildfire.

The heart of the movement found its perfect symbolic representation on March 31st when Jimi Hendrix burnt his guitar on the stage for the first time. Setting yourself apart in 1967 was no easy feat, perhaps Hendrix knew this and decided to go through with an outrageous act, or perhaps he knew he was teetering on the precipice of greatness, and needed that extra nudge to free-fall with the gods and goddesses of rock.

In March, Jimi Hendrix was on a British tour with an eclectic mix of acts, including The Walker Brothers, Englebert Humperdinck, and Cat Stevens. The tour had made a stop at Finsbury Park Astoria in London and Hendrix was hanging out backstage with his manager and ex-Animals bass player, Chas Chandler, along with music journalist, Keith Altham. After Altham had suggested to Hendrix that he include his song ‘Fire’ in his setlist that night, a roadie was sent out to fetch lighter fluid according to Ultimate Classic Rock; Chandler had suggested to the fledgeling rock god that he literally set fire to his guitar.

After Jimi Hendrix and his fellow Experience band mates, Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding burnt through an electrifying set of ‘Fire’, Hendrix distracted the crowd while Chandler doused his white Fender Stratocaster with butane. Shortly thereafter, Hendrix knelt beside the sodden axe and performed his timeless act. The stunt wasn’t without consequences, however. Hendrix burnt his hands, as well as burning the emcee who went to extinguish the fire.

More than that, however, the most defining consequence was that rock ‘n’ roll had witnessed an apex of rock perfection, a stunt that was truly hard to outdo at that point.

Perhaps it was because of impassioned acts like this that incentivised the best musicians of the time to create their masterpieces. Jefferson Airplane had released their sophomore Alice-in-wonderland esque masterpiece, Surrealistic Pillow; Jim Morrison and The Doors changed the musical landscape by allowing people the means to expand their minds; The Beatles and The Rolling Stones were going at it head to head to see who could create the worlds greatest ‘summer of love’ paragon. 

Ultimately, it was unanimously decided that The Beatles won that title, with their defining record, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, beating out Pink Floyd’s kaleidoscopic debut, and Love’s dystopic yet liberating message of Earth’s imminent demise in two years; an album whose title defies the boundaries of time and space, called Forever Changes.

It was no easy task creating this definitive list of the six best albums released in 1967, and by no means will everyone agree with it, simply because there are too many great albums from this year. Nevertheless, below you’ll find the list.  TO SEE THE TOP 6 ALBUMS FOR 1967, CLICK HERE...

The Devil's End