October 12, 1997

Bruce Rushton; The News Tribune

Generation gaps shrink as young and, er, older enjoy show

Meka Labrador - like many Fleetwood Mac fans who flocked to Saturday's sold-out show at the Tacoma Dome - was on a nostalgia trip.

"I grew up on the music," said Labrador, who came all the way from Everett with her friend Jill Burink. "This is actually hearing something from our past. It's pretty interesting to see a lot of young people here."

Labrador, 21, was one of them, having been born in 1976 - the year between the group's blockbuster albums Fleetwood Mac and Rumours.

So who did she expect to see?

"Like, parent types," Labrador said.

Like a lot of parent types, neither Labrador nor Burink, 19, had much of a clue as to when Fleetwood Mac got its start. No, it wasn't 1972 or 1973. Try 1967, better known for the Summer of Love than the start of this supergroup.

"Really?" gasped Lois Kaplan, who drove from Portland with several of her children to see the show. She guessed 1974.

Kaplan, 64, was even more amused to hear that concertgoers as young as Labrador and Burink considered Fleetwood Mac part of their childhood. She pointed out she's got a 27-year-old son. He, like his six siblings, is a big fan, Kaplan said.

This was Kaplan's first Fleetwood Mac show - in fact, her first show, period - though she said she's seen the band on television three times and owns several of their CD's. More than anything, she came to hear "The Chain." And tickets for the show - part of a 40-city tour that features the group's best-known lineup from its heydays of the mid 1970s - were tough to come by, she said.

"I sat on the line for four hours the day they came out," she said.

So, too, did Charles Reilly of Seattle. But he had no luck.

"I called about seven times," he said.

Then came Saturday, Reilly's 50th birthday. His wife, Gayann, got him into the car, ostensibly for a birthday dinner at a local steakhouse. While he protested that she'd taken a wrong turn that would put them on southbound Interstate 5, Gayann pulled out two choice tickets, a gift from the couple's daughters.

"He started getting teary," Gayann said.

Were they tears of gratitude or tears at the thought of Stevie Nicks?

"Both," Reilly said as his wife broke into a smile. "Although I hear she's gained some weight."

Indeed she has, though not so much that it's time for a Stevie Nicks Exercise Video. She got plenty of whistles when she ditched layers of black wispy shawls to show off a black gypsy-like dress featuring cleavage that hasn't changed. And you had to appreciate her grace as she strolled around the stage in tan platform boots with soles at least 4 inches high and stiletto heels even longer.

Everyone, it seemed, came for Stevie - "There's nobody in the world with a voice like hers - it's sexy," Labrador said.

And Nicks didn't disappoint.

If anything, the rasp has grown a bit deeper, the sultry look a tad more knowing. An understated, basic version of "Gold Dust Woman," the show's third song, was but a teaser of things to come. A few songs later, Nicks sounded even stronger, doing her famous spin and allowing herself a rare smile as she bent forward toward fans near the end of "Gypsy." It all came together especially well on "Landslide," a song Nicks dedicated to an uncle who lives in Tacoma.

Even those who came for Jesus got into it.

"There's a lot of people who want you to go your own way," shouted Matt Scott into a bullhorn as concertgoers got in line. "Convert to Jesus today!"

But this was far from soft rock for Satan, according to Scott, a Kent resident who has evangelized outside concerts by AC/DC, KISS and other dome events such as the Jehovah's Witness convention.

"A lot of people think we're protesting the show," Scott said. "We're not. I wish I knew more of their songs."