I attended the Universal Amphitheatre concert in Los Angeles in the middle of June, 1984. Venue was mostly full, I do believe. Mick and Lindsey sat down briefly in the front row, and then got hustled backstage, and that was that. The evening was less sedate than the reviews all claimed, but nobody mistook it for a Fleetwood Mac concert. Christine gives off a mid-level star vibe, shimmering a bit. But her 1984 recording and touring bands were musicians, not larger-than-life personalities of people who stop traffic. So, yes, things were a bit bland over the 90 minutes—for example, compare the solo "Hold Me" with Fleetwood Mac's combustible, arena-level "Hold Me." The latter is ear-battering Big Name Rock, the former is a pleasant, genteel arrangement and performance best suited to intimate venues—or maybe libraries.
It's a shame that the tour didn't peel back the conventional pop-rock cliches even more, and dispense with the gloss. People might have been more impressed with less structure and more freewheeling blues with a prominent piano.
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