Fleetwood Mac opened a door for me. This is what I found behind it. Before them, I didn't listen to the seventies. Because of them, I haven't stopped since.

Mick has his name on every album, every credit. But nobody sees it. Fleetwood Mac was named after him. Peter Green wanted Mick and John to keep the name, whatever happened next. The group carries it from the very first day.

He is the origin. The constant. They all leave or get fired. He stays and rebuilds. Every time. At some point he looks around and realises he's the only one left from the beginning. Fleetwood Mac wouldn't exist without him. Nobody says that. He's not Stevie Nicks or Lindsey Buckingham. And yet.

Rumours has its own story. We know it. A group of five, four of them going through heartbreaks with each other. That's the drama Rumours is. Mick has already lived his own betrayal and divorce, one that came before the album, a pain too early to be part of the narrative.

And so while the others write songs about each other, he holds the group together. As a drummer. As the founder. His pain doesn't take any space. There is none for him.

Drums don't carry melody or lyrics. They carry rhythm. The most essential part of a song.

He carries the name of the group. The group has no song for him on the most personal album they ever made.