Night of 27 Stevies

All right, there were more than 27 Stevies if you count both those performing and those twirling around the Irving Plaza dance floor. Just nowhere near the Night of 1,000 Stevies that we expected at the 26th anniversary show. Not that the joint wasn't packed, the event was totally sold out.

I went with my Stevie Nicks sister Jenna, who I met many moons ago when "the queen of everything" conducted an in-person signing for live CD/DVD at Barnes & Noble in Union Square. We walked by that very spot while traveling to and fro the big show. Talk about symmetry!

Now Jenna had told me that I might feel uncomfortable if I didn't dress up for NOTS, since she fully expected the crowd to be mostly would-be Stevies and few mere mortals. We got the first inklings that wouldn't be the case when we arrived at Penn Station and didn't see any other Stevies. In fact, we didn't see any until we got to the venue.

But I decided to use raw materials I had around the house and do something in the spirit of Stevie, if not specifically go after a particular outfit -- Jenna looked smashing in her recreation of Stevie's "Stand Back" look. And I have to admit, I kind of was sauntering and sashaying around and feeling my inner Stevie while in costume.

The night, themed "Dark Daughters," was an array of videos, live and lip-synched performances and dance interpretations of Stevie songs, solo and with Fleetwood Mac. So we heard "Stand Back" about five or six times and "I Can't Wait" about five or six times over the course of the night. And we rocked out on them every single time.

We staked out a spot at the railing on the second floor so we could see everything and dance at the same time. It was a lot of fun to jam with the blonde wig on, especially after I acquired my tambourine. Actually the first of two tambos, because we rocked so hard with the first one that the Stevie picture fell off and disappeared. When I went for a replacement, they no longer had the variation I bought, so I wound with my second choice and we took it a little bit easier on that second one. (At least I found a picture of it -- inset below -- so I'll see it in my dreams.)

Speaking of dreams, we imbibed a bunch of them. "Dreams" was a specialty drink created for the night with vodka, club soda, a splash of raspberry and maybe something else. I can't recall, I had four of them.

I thought it was nice timing that this show was going on about two weeks after I saw Pearl Jam. In my mind, Pearl Jam represents my grounded, realistic side. Stevie and Fleetwood Mac, for me, has always been about my pie-in-the-sky, dare I say dream-like nature. But they're both me down to my toes.

There were three acts of musical performances, separated by 15-minute dreamy dance interpretations. I particularly liked the two-person grim reaper. Creepy but effective. Lots of funny moments and quips throughout the night, but the unintentional ones almost busted my gut, namely emcees attempting to throw tambourines to the audience on a couple of occasions. They didn't get very far. If you weren't standing on the general flour in five or six rows deep, it's probably safe to say you didn't get one that way.

Those who sang live did with varying degrees of success. Jenna kept breaking me up with choice comments. She likened one Stevie to Anna Nicole Smith, I never recovered from that over the length of her song. Then she said the one singing "Landslide" sounded like a Munchkin, and that's all I heard for the balance of the song. But some did stand out for me.

Best live performance: There were a lot of lovely renditions, from "Gold Dust Woman" to "Seven Wonders" and the surprise appearance of Orange Is the New Black's Lea DeLaria on "Kind of Woman." But my clear favorite was Lane Moore of It Was Romance killing it on "Silver Springs." My bar for that song is so much higher than for many other of her classics, so you can imagine how she brought down the house.

Best camp performance: Severely Mame with "Little Lies." That's a Fleetwood Mac song with "Christine McVie" on lead, but a huge spotlight stayed on the highest-haired "Stevie Nicks" I've ever seen (and that's saying something with this crew). So "Christine" got increasingly upset when the fans went wild for "Stevie" during the chorus and "Stevie" continued to curry favor with the crowd by playing to them through the rest of the song.



Least favorite performance: I'll have to go with "Crystal." A huge favorite of mine from both the Buckingham Nicks and Fleetwood Mac self-titled albums, I didn't like Bridget Barkan's take nor the unexplainable routine that went with it. I started twirling around and singing to myself so I didn't have to watch.

That reminds me, something unique about this night. Now in general at concerts, what I do is mouth words because I don't want to hear me above the people I paid to see (unless an artist calls for us to sing). And the people next to me certainly don't want to hear me above the people they paid to see. But at this show, it wasn't Stevie, it wasn't the Mac, so I pretty much felt comfortable with singing at the top of my lungs. And so did everyone else. What a blast to do that.

At one point, I was asked whether I liked the rest of Fleetwood Mac or just Stevie. And the duo that asked were surprised when I said I really did. Yeah, as a kid, Stevie was everything to me. But now that I'm older and allegedly wiser, Lindsey Buckingham and Christine McVie and Mick Fleetwood and John McVie mean as much to me as she does now.

It all culminated in "Battle of a Thousand Stevies," which wasn't so much a battle as 27 Stevies on stage gyrating to "Edge of Seventeen" with 27 Stevies and the 973 of us who remained five hours later following suit from the audience. There was one Stevie behind me trying to draw me into her web with some very exacting textbook Stevie moves. She definitely practiced in the mirror before coming to the show. 

One last thing. I want to be Christine next year. Or Lindsey.

Glorious NOTS photos courtesy of The Dusty Rebel at www.thedustyrebel.com