There’s something unshakably magical about seeing Fleetwood Mac live. Even in 2015, nearly four decades after their most seismic creative period, the band could still fill an arena and turn it into something that felt intimate, emotional, and timeless. On this March night at the Toyota Center in Houston, the energy was nothing short of electric. The band — Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Mick Fleetwood, John McVie, and the long-awaited return of Christine McVie — performed a show that blended nostalgia with renewed vigor, the kind of night where every song carried both weight and warmth.
This wasn’t just another stop on a reunion tour. It was a victory lap for one of rock’s most enduring families — fractured, healed, and still capable of breaking hearts and raising roofs in equal measure.
The Chain: A Perfect Beginning
The show kicked off with “The Chain”, a fitting opener that has become something of a Fleetwood Mac anthem for resilience. The first rumble of John McVie’s bass line and Lindsey Buckingham’s churning guitar riff immediately drew a roar from the packed house. Stevie and Lindsey’s harmonies still cut through with the same edge they had in the late ’70s, and when that iconic bass break hit, the crowd went absolutely wild. The tension, the fury, the passion — it was all still there.
The chemistry between Buckingham and Nicks was palpable, their glances alternating between affectionate and wistful. “The Chain” set the tone for the night: this was a band that has lived, loved, lost, and somehow kept going.
Classic Magic and Vintage Warmth
Christine McVie stepped up to the microphone next for “You Make Loving Fun,” her voice as warm and clear as ever. The crowd greeted her like a long-lost friend, and she responded with that familiar calm grace, smiling as if she’d never been away. The harmonies felt complete again; the missing puzzle piece was back.
“Dreams” followed — Stevie Nicks’ voice still haunting, raspy in the best way, with just enough wear to remind you of everything that song has been through. The crowd swayed, some even teary-eyed. When she sang, “Thunder only happens when it’s raining,” the audience echoed every word.
Lindsey took command next with “Second Hand News,” infusing it with punky energy and a grin that said he was having the time of his life. His guitar work was impeccable, sharp and percussive, and by the end of the song, the whole band looked locked in, having fun, playing loose but tight — that rare combination only they seem to master.
Then came “Rhiannon,” and the room transformed. Stevie twirled, shawl flowing under the soft red stage lights, channeling the mystical presence that made her a legend. Her performance was otherworldly, a hypnotic spell that had the crowd in hushed awe.
Deep Cuts and Dreamscapes
“Everywhere” brought Christine back to the forefront with her soft, synth-dappled charm, a song that shimmered with optimism. It sounded effortlessly fresh — one of those tunes that reminds you why Fleetwood Mac’s pop sensibilities were just as powerful as their drama.
Then Lindsey pulled out “I Know I’m Not Wrong” from Tusk, a slightly off-kilter, propulsive number that showed how adventurous and weird the band could be even within the pop-rock framework. That adventurous streak hit full stride with “Tusk” itself. The brass backing track, the pounding drums, the wild-eyed delivery — it all built into one of the night’s most thrilling moments.
Stevie then took us deep into the Mirage era with “Sisters of the Moon,” a track that hasn’t always made it into live sets but felt like a gift here. Dark, brooding, and drenched in reverb, it was a showcase for her still-enigmatic mystique.
“Say You Love Me” followed with its upbeat charm, Christine’s pure pop energy giving everyone a breather after the stormy intensity. The band seemed in high spirits, exchanging smiles and inside jokes between verses.
Acoustic Brilliance and Emotional Resonance
The next stretch of the set brought some of the most intimate moments of the night. Lindsey Buckingham stepped into the spotlight for a stunning acoustic version of “Big Love.” His fingers danced across the strings with breathtaking precision, and his vocal performance — fierce, almost unhinged — reminded everyone why he remains one of rock’s most underrated guitarists.
Then came “Landslide.” Stevie introduced it with a small, heartfelt reflection about time passing and finding peace with the years. The crowd fell completely silent as she sang, every word hitting deep. You could hear sniffles throughout the arena; this song still breaks hearts in the most beautiful way.
Lindsey stayed on acoustic for “Never Going Back Again,” a lovely counterpoint to the melancholy of “Landslide.” His fingerpicking was as flawless as ever, turning the simple melody into something intricate and mesmerizing.
Christine’s “Over My Head” followed, its gentle groove reminding everyone of the quieter, subtler charms that made her songs such anchors on Fleetwood Mac.
Then Stevie returned for “Gypsy,” which shimmered with wistful nostalgia. She told a short story about her early years with Lindsey, about thrift stores and chasing dreams in San Francisco. When she sang, “To the gypsy that remains,” the entire arena seemed to breathe in unison.
The Storm and the Gold
As the show entered its home stretch, “Little Lies” got the whole crowd singing along. Christine’s pop craftsmanship still held up beautifully, the chorus echoing throughout the arena like a wave of memory.
“Gold Dust Woman” brought a darker, rawer edge. Stevie’s voice cracked and soared, her tambourine shaking in time with Mick Fleetwood’s thunderous drumming. The song stretched into an almost psychedelic jam, Stevie lost in her own trance, her shadow flickering on the massive backdrop. It was spellbinding — a high point of the night.
Then came “I’m So Afraid,” Lindsey’s chance to explode. His solo was jaw-dropping — an eruption of raw emotion, tension, and release. He leaned back, guitar wailing, every note burning. The crowd erupted into a standing ovation before the final chord even faded.
The main set closed with “Go Your Own Way,” and it was every bit as triumphant as you’d hope. Lindsey and Stevie shared glances — not quite smiles, but a look that said, “We made it.” The audience sang every word, dancing, shouting, and celebrating the bittersweet beauty of this band’s history.
The Encores: Grace and Farewell
They returned to the stage to the roar of the crowd, launching into “World Turning.” Mick Fleetwood took center stage for an extended drum solo — part tribal stomp, part theatrical chaos. His energy was contagious; at 67, he still played like a man half his age, beaming and shouting to the crowd.
“Don’t Stop” followed, the ultimate feel-good anthem. Christine led it with her bright voice, and the entire arena turned into a singalong. You could feel genuine joy radiating from the stage — this wasn’t a band going through the motions. It was a band rediscovering why they loved doing this in the first place.
But they weren’t done yet. The second encore began with “Silver Springs.” Stevie’s performance was devastating — eyes closed, voice trembling with power and pain. The way she turned to Lindsey during the line “You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you” hit with the force of decades of history. It was raw, real, and deeply moving.
Finally, Christine McVie returned to the piano for “Songbird.” The arena lights dimmed, a single spotlight on her. Her gentle voice filled the space with serenity. It was the perfect closer — a quiet blessing after a night of emotional storms.
A Band Beyond Time
What made this show so powerful wasn’t just the flawless setlist or the nostalgic pull — it was the sheer life of it all. Fleetwood Mac sounded rejuvenated, like they’d finally reached peace with their past and were celebrating what remained. There were no fake smiles or hollow nostalgia here; it was a band that had survived everything and still found beauty in their shared history.
The interplay between the three vocalists — Buckingham’s intensity, Nicks’ mysticism, McVie’s warmth — created a dynamic few bands could ever hope to replicate. Mick Fleetwood and John McVie’s rhythm section remained a masterclass in subtle power, anchoring every emotional peak and valley with unshakable groove.
By the time the final notes of “Songbird” faded, you could feel it — a collective sense of gratitude. For the band, for the songs, for the memories they’ve given generations of fans. Fleetwood Mac in 2015 wasn’t just revisiting their past; they were reaffirming why their music still matters — deeply, universally, and forever.
Grade: A