The news came through on Saturday from my friends in the UK that Peter Green had died peacefully in his sleep. He was 73 years old. Most people who know me, and perhaps even a few casual readers on this blog, know that I am fiercely passionate about Peter Green. I say AM because I remain so. I am sad that he died, but he left the most amazing musical legacy. What I found interesting was that so many news sites published some form of an obituary. I always thought that my passion for Green was limited to me and a few others. That wasn't the case, it does help that he started Fleetwood Mac in 1967 with Mick Fleetwood and Bob Brunning, who was the original bassist. He had yet to persuade John McVie to leave the steady employment in John Mayall's band. Green pre-empted McVie's recruitment by naming the band Fleetwood Mac after his favourite rhythm section.
A lot has been written about Green. I don't want to go into an historical appreciation, suffice to say, that rather like Jimi Hendrix, Green's star shone for four years from 1966 to 1970. Thereafter he becomes more withdrawn, the music lacks the fire and emotion that those four years produced. He then disappears from the early 80s until 1995 when he seemingly miraculously re-emerged. I was lucky enough to see him in London in 1999. I suspect I just wanted to see my hero – even though I knew that there would be no fire. In fact at the end of the gig, which he shared with John Mayall, they had a bit of a jam and Mayall encouraged him to start playing. He wouldn't, just ran has hand across the fretboard and made no sound.
Where do I start with Green. I knew about Fleetwood Mac, but it was the Fleetwood Mac that everyone knew about. We knew Rumours (who doesn't) and I was aware of Tusk and Mirage. It was a stepbrother who was given the album Then Play On who introduced this iteration of Fleetwood Mac to me. At the time Dire Straits had brought out Love over Gold, whose lead single was Private Investigations. Here was a song that I revered completely. It was a nylon string number with sparse accompaniment. The step brother told me that I needed to listen to Oh Well (parts one and two) because it was better than Private Investigations. I wasn't so sure at the time – Oh Well Part 2 had a slight classical piece, but was mostly a strummed nylon string guitar. I listened and enjoyed it. I was then handed the whole album which I listened to – I thought that maybe I could learn to play some of the songs because they would be easy to learn (hmmm – perhaps one day).
It was only when I got to the border that I started listening to the album properly. I was sent a tape of the album, I'd also managed to find a rock compilation that had the Fleetwood Mac version of Black Magic Woman, which is the original version. It's not as poppy as Santana's, there is a distinct rawness to Green's original. When you are on the border you don't get much music so you listen to whatever you can get your hands on. I became an obsessed Jethro Tull fan and was now very intrigued by the Green-era Fleetwood Mac.
And so begun the Green obsession. I bought whatever I could get my hands on. I loved the Mayall album – I must have listened to that thousands of times. It was at that point that I started to understand the enigma that is Peter Green. Eric Clapton made his name as a guitar hero during his time with Mayall – so much so that there were walls spray-painted with the words "Clapton is God". The Bliuesbreakers with Eric Clapton is a significant album – and justifiably cemented Clapton's reputation as the pre-eminent British blues guitarist. Clapton was however moody, arrogant and not very committed. Mayall observed that when he was on fire, he melted – but you couldn't be sure which Clapton would pitch up on the night, if he pitched up at all. After a long absence Green blagged his way into the band, there was some toing and froing, because Clapton did return for a short time. Green was now left to fill God's shoes – something that the fans weren't too keen on. There were "where's Eric" calls from the audience. Mayall said that Green was cocky – he wanted the crowd to like him. There he was playing Clapton's parts. Thankfully a recent bootleg has turned up showing what Green could do playing Clapton's songs.
Like most of Mayall's guitarists, Green moved on, started Fleetwood Mac, recorded the most influential British blues ever and left, seemingly to fade into obscurity.
There was something about Green that sets him apart. He was obviously very troubled, and this was made worse by a weekend of acid in Munich (in fact his deterioration can be traced to this event). His last album for Fleetwood Mac contains a few very desperate songs, as well as baudy tracks like Rattlesnake Shake – and he was barely 23 years old at the time. For many it was his guitar playing that absolutely set him apart. He wasn't a clone, neither was he derivative – although he openly wore his fascination for BB King. He chose not to use too much distortion, so that the notes could be heard. And he didn't play a lot of notes – every note was carefully placed. The problem with playing fast is that you tend to fall over yourself and the music comes out in a haphazard fashion, cue Jimmy Page. Clapton was a master – but his music appears to sound completely structured and planned in comparison to the soul and feeling that Green injected into his playing.
I once tried to explain this to my father. I played him a number of songs (which caused him to fall asleep) and tried to explain that we were listening to a young man in his early 20s. Most of us at that age, even at my advanced age, attempt to burn up the fretboard. Not Green. He would use the guitar and the amp and change the nature of the sound using the pick-up selector. And so we were introduced to the famous out of phase sound that appeared on many Fleetwood Mac songs. That same guitar has an incredible provenance. It's a 1959 Gibson Les Paul (which in itself makes it an icon) that was owned by Peter Green, Gary Moore and now Kirk Hammett of Metallica. No one has used it as effectively as Green did. Hearing him, that guitar (although Green was such a master that the instrument doesn't matter) and his co-guitarist Danny Kirwan on those live tracks is transcendental.
I've never strayed from Green. I am mostly familiar with his Fleetwood Mac work, but I have listened to almost every post Fleetwood Mac album. Each later album has something to enjoy but don't expect fireworks. He'd long moved on from there. Such is my infatuation with Green, and I have mentioned this often –that my eldest son Oliver was born on Peter Green's birthday. I have a task ahead of me to convince both my kids that Green is worth listening to.
Below is a Spotify list. It's made mostly of Green/Fleetwood Mac tracks. I have also included a few other Kirwan songs because they are so good, one track is a post Green, Fleetwood Mac track – Station Man. Pete Townshend chose to cover this at the recent Peter Green tribute in London (that I could not get tickets for – probably a good thing because we went into quarantine a few weeks after this gig). There's one Jeremy Spencer song – Shake your Moneymaker (an Elmore James cover) that features the most amazing Green rhythm guitar.
Unfortunately Spotify doesn't have many live Green-era Fleetwood Mac albums. The Boston shows are very worthwhile on Spotify. You would do well do dig up the BBC Live album and any bootleg you can find. There are a lot on Youtube and various music blogs. I have a huge number of them and am now rediscovering the artist that I adore and will revere for as long as I live.
Thank you Peter Green. You made my musical journey a never ending one. I can't play like you, I wish I could, but I have your music. I hope that everyone starts discovering how important you are to me and the musical world.