When people think of Fleetwood Mac, they usually picture Stevie Nicks in a top hat or Lindsey Buckingham aggressively shredding a guitar. It’s the drama. The capes. The cocaine-fueled arguments. But if you actually look at the charts, the real engine of that band—the person who basically kept the lights on with a steady stream of hits—was Christine McVie.
Honestly, she was the "normal" one.
While her bandmates were busy having public meltdowns, Christine was sitting at her piano, cranking out the melodies that defined soft rock for five decades. She didn’t need the mystical persona. She just had the hooks.
The Hits You Didn't Realize Were Songs by Christine McVie
Most casual fans are shocked when they realize how many of the "big" songs were hers. We’re talking about "Don’t Stop," "Everywhere," "Little Lies," and "You Make Loving Fun."
She was the band’s most consistent hitmaker. Period.
Take "Over My Head." Released in 1975, this was the track that finally broke Fleetwood Mac on American radio. Before this, they were a struggling British blues outfit. Christine changed the trajectory of rock history with a breezy, three-minute song about how Lindsey Buckingham was "cold as ice" but also "great." It’s relatable. It’s simple. It’s a masterclass in pop songwriting.
Then you’ve got "Say You Love Me." It hit number 11 on the Billboard Hot 100, the exact same spot as Stevie Nicks’ legendary "Rhiannon." People forget that. They see the leather and lace and assume Stevie was the lead, but Christine was right there, matching her beat for beat with soulful, piano-driven stompers.
Why "Songbird" is the Most Important Track She Ever Wrote
If you want to understand the heart of the band, you have to talk about "Songbird." It’s the outlier.
Most of the songs on Rumours are about people being mean to each other. It’s an album of spite. But "Songbird" is pure, selfless love. Christine reportedly wrote the whole thing in about 30 minutes in the middle of the night. She was so afraid she’d forget the melody that she stayed awake until morning just so she could record it for the producers.
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To get that specific, "haunting" sound, they didn’t record it in a studio. They went to the Zellerbach Auditorium in Berkeley. They put a bouquet of roses on her piano, dimmed the house lights, and let her play into the void of a 2,000-seat theater.
It’s the only song on Rumours where no one is fighting.
The Scandal Behind "You Make Loving Fun"
People love the Stevie/Lindsey drama, but Christine’s life wasn’t exactly a Hallmark movie.
While the band was recording Rumours, her marriage to bassist John McVie was disintegrating. To make matters weirder, she started an affair with the band's lighting director, Curry Grant.
"You Make Loving Fun" is about him.
Imagine being John McVie. You have to stand on stage every single night and play the bass line to a hit song your ex-wife wrote about the guy who fixes the spotlights. That is a level of professional awkwardness most of us couldn't survive. Christine, ever the pragmatist, told John the song was about her dog.
He didn't find out the truth until years later.
The 80s Resurgence: "Everywhere" and "Little Lies"
A lot of 70s icons faded away when synthesizers showed up, but Christine just leaned in.
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Tango in the Night (1987) is basically a Christine McVie showcase. "Everywhere" is arguably one of the greatest pop songs ever written. It has that shimmering, crystalline intro that feels like a fever dream. It’s been covered by everyone from indie bands to EDM producers because the structure is basically perfect.
And then there's "Little Lies." Co-written with her then-husband Eddy Quintela, it’s a song about the comfort of denial. "Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies." It’s catchy as hell, but it’s actually pretty dark if you listen to the lyrics. It perfectly captured the glossy, slightly hollow feeling of late-80s production while keeping her signature bluesy vocal grit.
What Most People Get Wrong About Her Solo Career
Because she was so synonymous with the Mac, her solo work often gets buried.
That’s a mistake.
Her 1984 self-titled album is actually great. "Got a Hold on Me" was a massive hit, peaking at number 10 on the Hot 100. It’s bouncy, it’s fun, and it features Steve Winwood. If you like the Mirage era of Fleetwood Mac, this album is basically a lost chapter of that sound.
She also released an album with Lindsey Buckingham in 2017. It was supposed to be a Fleetwood Mac record, but Stevie Nicks wasn't available (or interested), so they just put it out under their own names. Songs like "Feel About You" prove that even in her 70s, Christine hadn't lost her ability to write a melody that stays in your head for three days.
The "Overlooked" Heavy Hitter
If you look at the stats, Fleetwood Mac had 17 top-20 singles in the U.S.
Christine wrote and sang lead on eight of them. She co-wrote "The Chain." She was the "glue."
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While Lindsey was experimenting with weird drum sounds and Stevie was twirling in the corner, Christine was the one making sure the songs actually had a chorus you could sing along to in the car. Her voice—that husky, alto-contralto hybrid—provided the grounding for the band's famous three-part harmonies. Without her, the "classic" lineup would have just been two very talented, very loud people screaming at each other.
How to Appreciate Her Legacy Today
If you really want to "get" her contribution, don't just listen to the Greatest Hits.
Dig into the deep cuts.
- "Brown Eyes" from Tusk: It’s moody, atmospheric, and features an uncredited Peter Green on guitar.
- "Spare Me a Little of Your Love" from Bare Trees: This is pre-Buckingham/Nicks era, and it shows her soulful, R&B roots.
- "Why" from Mystery to Me: A gorgeous, heartbreaking ballad that sounds like a precursor to "Songbird."
Christine McVie wasn't interested in being a "rock star" in the traditional sense. She didn't want the spotlight; she wanted the song to be right. She was a classically trained musician who fell in love with Fats Domino and spent the rest of her life trying to bridge the gap between elegance and a rock-and-roll groove.
She succeeded.
The best way to honor that legacy is to pay attention to the craftsmanship in her work. Every time you hear that opening piano riff of "Don't Stop," remember that it wasn't just a political anthem or a radio staple—it was a woman trying to convince herself that the future was going to be okay while her personal life was falling apart.
To truly dive into her work, start by creating a chronological playlist. Move from her early blues days in Chicken Shack through the experimental Tusk era, and finish with her final solo collection released in 2022. You’ll hear a songwriter who never stopped evolving but never lost her soul.