Lindsey Buckingham lives in a wonderful world of sound, an aural playground where guitars shimmer and shriek, voices chirp and flutter and almost anything is possible for those who understand the magic of the recording studio. In this world, any earcatching sound is its own justification, and every melody lives for the moment, framed within an exquisite arrangement and unconcerned with what might follow.
That Buckingham would subscribe to such an aesthetic should hardly seem surprising. Sure, he made his mark as a pop tunesmith, providing Fleetwood Mac with some of its most effervescent singles, but on his own, his output has tended to put the emphasis less on his melodic instincts than
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on his mastery of the multitrack. Indeed, both his previous solo albums –
Law and Order (1981) and
Go Insane (1984) – offered eloquent testimony to the number of neat sounds he could whip up in the studio, an achievement made all the more astonishing by the fact that he plays nearly all the instruments himself. And while that made for some fascinating snippets, it kept Buckingham's albums from achieving the sort of song-based cohesion that made Fleetwood Mac's output so consistent and enduring.
To that extent, Out of the Cradle – his first album in eight years – may be where Buckingham's solo career grows up. On this album, the nifty guitar instrumentals scattered through the album aren't virtuoso dead ends but witty introductions, with one fleet-fingered guitar tune segueing neatly into the main riff of "Don't Look Down," while a melancholy, meditative reading of "This Nearly Was Mine" (from South Pacific) dovetails musically and thematically with the album-closing "Say We'll Meet Again," cleverly transforming the unspoken regret of the former into the romantic hope of the latter. And Buckingham has no trouble extending that sense of flow to the rest of the album, ensuring that the minor-key urgency of "Doing What I Can" seems the perfect progression from the dreamy lilt of "Surrender the Rain."
But it would be a mistake to see Out of the Cradle simply in terms of thematic unity, as if that were just another technical trick Buckingham had decided to show off. The album's real achievement lies in presenting the full range of Buckingham's talents, not just the bits he couldn't apply more profitably to Fleetwood Mac. In other words, it backs his sound sense with the sort of hook-heavy songwriting that gave us "Go Your Own Way" and "Tusk," a combination that makes this album irresistible.
"Don't Look Down" is a perfect example. On a melodic level, the song effortlessly captures the balance between languor and lift found in many Fleetwood Mac singles, flowing easily from the measured cadences of the verse to the manic climax of the chorus. Buckingham doesn't stop there, though; he fills the track with all sorts of ear candy, from Mexicali stringband flourishes to sampled voices that
