Lindsey Buckingham

On “Gift of Screws,” former Fleetwood Mac guitarist Lindsey Buckingham shows more than just his knack for catchy pop music. He also exhibits such control over the guitar that it sounds rugged on one track (“Treason”) and Sixpence-None-the-Richer on another (“Underground”). What’s more, while pushing age 60, he still maintains a smooth voice that makes me wonder why Fleetwood Mac ever had to hire Stevie Nicks.

Unfortunately, the album starts with its weakest song. “Great Day” overplays call and response between vocals and guitar. This bluesy shtick is downright irritating when combined with the poppy tempo of the song. Confusion only grows when the repeating chorus, “It was a great day,” changes in the end to “It wasn’t such a great day” in a transition so random it actually kind of fits the song’s idiosyncratic gestalt.

“Great Day” is exemplary in its mediocrity, due to the masterful fingerpicking and guitar playing, minimalist composition, and poppy lyricism displayed by Buckingham. On “Time Precious Time,” Buckingham redeems himself with stripped-down guitar playing that takes the foreground to his haunting and melodic chant of “time precious time.” As the song progresses, both the listener and Buckingham can get lost in the waterfall of notes flowing from the strings, until finally the whisper of the artist’s voice fades out over muted tones.

But “Gift of Screws,” unlike Nick Drake’s similar-sounding corpus, is not all moody sobriety; it’s also fun. In fact, the album is actually best when it’s in more lighthearted spirits, and Buckingham’s former pop star is allowed to shine. “A hundred years underground / Had to swim across the sea / Oh, when you were my baby,” he sings in “Did you Miss Me.” In addition to their fluffier, somewhat fantastic lyrics, the feel of songs like “Did You Miss Me” and “The Right Place to Fade” is fun and breezy, adhering to the British tradition that blurs pop and rock.

“Love Runs Deeper” is another such tune. Though after a critical listen the song lacks any distinguishing element, its catchy dance-inspiring chorus quickly becomes the perfect anthem for love. The verses repeat images of a couple paralyzed by love, followed by Buckingham’s climactic belting in the chorus, where he—for once—cranks up the volume on every single instrument. Buckingham is eloquent, precise, and convincing, especially in those songs where it sounds like he’s actually enjoying his work. On the title track, he sings a schizophrenic melody of two voices that unite into a crazy cackling in between verses. It’s this upbeat, now unconventional pop feel that inspires hope that, should Buckingham make another album, he will feel free to give his audience more quality happy music.

—Reviewer Roy Cohen can be reached at roycohen@fas.harvard.edu.