Stevie Nicks: Sister of the Moon
Wait a minute baby, stay with me awhile. Said you'd give me light but you never told me 'bout the fire. – Stevie Nicks, Sara
Rooms on Fire
I’d grown up vaguely aware of Fleetwood Mac. After all ‘The Chain’ was the theme for Formula One, which was and still is my family’s special interest (yeah, not mine though, sorry, not sorry). But when I was twelve, I first got my hand on a rock compilation CD that had ‘Rooms on Fire’ on it, which was by a woman called Stevie. To be brutally honest, only a few songs on that compilation got played, especially on repeat – anything written by Jim Steinman and ‘Rooms on Fire’. I just found it the most evocative, intriguing, hypnotic song with that tremulous voice that insisted:
‘there is magic all around you, if I do say so myself, well I have known this much longer than I’ve known you’
As I got older, I heard ‘The Chain’ in its entirety for the first time and I had to reconcile the fact that this really cool, mysterious woman had also been in a really uncool old man’s band (while my opinions on Formula One have not changed, I now appreciate Fleetwood Mac, alright?)
Anyway, I never really thought much more about it until the morning of the Brexit vote, when I heard ‘Edge of Seventeen’ on the radio. It sounded so fresh and urgent, I just assumed it was a modern song. It was only when I looked up the words on the way to work that I discovered that this was my Stevie. And that the song was thirty-five years old.
I obviously then went down a serious rabbit-hole and within weeks, I had Fleetwood Mac and Stevie LPs, I learnt how to play ‘Gypsy’ and ‘Edge of Seventeen’ on guitar, and I even bought the most beautiful Stevie-style dress and insisted on wearing it to the office.
So who is this fabulous woman?
Stephanie Lynn Nicks, born 26 May 1948
Honestly, Stevie Nicks’ personal life used to be a bit of a hot mess. Lots of ill-advised relationships and drug addiction, which, to this mentally unwell person in their mid-twenties, was easy to romanticise. Now, mentally better in my mid-thirties, I appreciate more that this woman is a survivor. She stopped putting up with Lindsey Buckingham (the never-quite-confirmed longest situationship in rock), she got clean, first from cocaine and later Klonopin, and she is an outspoken advocate.
My favourite thing about Stevie (besides the witchy fashion and the beautiful songwriting) though, is how she seems to be so generous with her love, whether that’s with her friends, family, or her peers, while choosing to not have her own biological children in order to continue focusing on her art. As someone who’s pretty much made the same decision, that’s always really spoken to me.
This woman’s fashion needs a moment, though. There’s a reason why people still reference her look forty-five years after she first turned up on stage with those flowy dresses and shawls and beads (and that gorgeous pre-Raphaelite hair). She is the ultimate witchy fashion icon, to the point where she even appeared in American Horror Story: Coven.
And as for her songwriting, it has that same stream-of-consciousness style that I love about Modernist and Post-modernist poets, while touching on heavy topics like grief and relationship breakups. Yes, most of those relationships were complicated, to say the least, but this is a judgement-free zone.
Undoing and undoing: My favourite Stevie songs
There’s a heartbeat and it never really dies: Coldharbour
While Jim Steinman might be the more overt musical influence on Coldharbour, Stevie Nicks really can’t be discounted. Her lightly Gothic combination of rawness and femininity with that dash of mysticism appears in Coldharbour too, as does that tinge of stream-of-consciousness I mentioned earlier.
And fun fact: the chapter titles in Coldharbour III are inspired by Stevie’s lyrics. And no, I’m not saying why yet.
Bonus video: Stevie working on ‘Wild Heart’ a cappella – radiant.
Looking for the magic of Stevie Nicks in book form? Buy Coldharbour I here.
