Stevie Nicks, "Rhiannon" and the Value of Musical Invocation

This is a song about a Welsh witch (sort of).

All I want for Christmas is the Stevie Nicks Barbie, but she’s elusive. The doll sold out within minutes of her October debut, and now she holds court for a bajillion dollars on eBay. While those greed-hungry re-sellers can fuck right off, I would love to love her, because she nails Stevie’s nascent image to perfection.

See, Stevie’s spent like 50 years expanding upon her iconic style—with corsets, velvet cloaks, celestial details weaving in-and-out—but the all-black simplicity of her early years is classic. Stevie-Barbie knows the assignment, boasting a Rumours-esque dress with sheer sleeves, platform boots, and haunting Greta Garbo eyes. In a brushstroke, she conjures a look that is definitively witchy.

You can trust me as a Stevie style expert, because I’ve stolen adopted many sartorial cues from her. Like, enough where “Stevie Nicks” is an effortless last-minute Halloween costume, and my only needed accessory this year was a white parakeet. Together we flew into the night, hitting up as many Brooklyn cover shows as possible.

FWIW, Mary Shelley did a great Fleetwood Mac cover set at Our Wicked Lady, the crowd was under full enchantment. Is there video footage of me and Def.Grls’ Mark Brickman losing it to “Rhiannon”? Yes, and it’s dying with my Instagram stories. But REST ASSURED when the opening riff kicked in, I quietly offered up the same invocation Stevie used in the ‘70s: “This is a song about a Welsh witch.” 

That’s a great song-opener, but it’s only half true. On my 4th Night of Stevie—Halloween itself—I delved into the story of Rhiannon. And not only was I captivated by the myth of this Welsh queen, but I realized Rhiannon’s the essence that gave Fleetwood Mac their abundance, immortality, and magic.

Allow me to explain…

Reminder: Fleetwood Mac was originally a blues band and Buckingham-Nicks didn’t join until their 10th album.

Their self-titled record introduces the line-up we’re familiar with, with Mick Fleetwood, Christine McVie, and John McVie. When her and America’s Toxic Ex Lindsey Buckingham were being courted by the band, Lindsey was wary of about FM’s rotating door of lineup changes. Stevie was more like, “I’m sick of waiting tables, we’re doing this. 🖕🏻”

And yes, they joined for Fleetwood’s 10th album. Upon talking to casual fans and bonafide musicians alike, most of us are fine pretending their first 9 records aren’t canon. But not Stevie Nicks. 

Being broke, she needed Mick to buy her all those records. But it was for a good cause; she was seeking a magic thread: “I sat in my room and listened to all of them to try to figure out if I could capture a theme or anything,” she told Trouser Press in 1980. “What I came up with was the word ‘mystical.’”

This solidified Stevie’s choice to join the band, because she, herself, was ✨quite mystical✨ (and the aforementioned waitress thing). She cemented this spiritual union with an offering in the form of song: “Rhiannon (Will You Ever Win).”

Not everyone was *into* this mystical tonal shift; presumably John McVie was watching Stevie perfect her goth ballerina twirls like, “This is really far away from the blues,’” To which producer Keith Olsen replied, “‘I know, but it’s a lot closer to the bank.’”

And Stevie herself was anxious about releasing “Rhiannon” as a single. She had grown to love and respect this sacred woman, and didn’t want to sell her off for the wrong reasons. What if the public didn’t love Rhiannon like she did? What if Rhiannon fell flat on her face?

WELL, LMAO TO ALL THAT, because people fucking loved “Rhiannon”

“Rhiannon” helped give Fleetwood Mac mainstream success and abundance (read: 💵) because it teased out that sublimated magic. And while the whimsical lyrics certainly helped, part of its success was how Stevie herself embodied this character. Her #aesthetics led to many top-hat-and-shawl wearing imitators in the audience, and rumo(u)rs that Stevie herself was a witch.

Now, Stevie actually got the name from Triad: A Novel of the Supernatural by Mary Leader. In Triad the main character, Branwen, is possessed by an evil spirit named Rhiannon. Feels fitting, since Stevie looks possessed in those early performances—clad in those ethereal black chiffon, twirling into oblivion, an incantation in each tremor of her voice.

Skip to the 4:12 mark of this Midnight Special performance for proof, though you should burn some incense, light some candles, and watch the full thing later tonight.

But later on Stevie finds out that there’s actually an OG Rhiannon in the Mabinogion, the book of Welsh mythology. Rhiannon’s resume is extensive, but generally she’s a fairy queen (I KNOW, RIGHT? 🧚‍♀️), maker of birds, and goddess of horses.

The bit about birds ties effortlessly into Stevie’s vision of the character—lest we forget Rhiannon “rules her life like a fine skylark,” yadda yadda yadda. Over the years Stevie would lean on these three birds of Rhiannon musically, with unreleased songs like “Stay Away,” and “Maker of Birds.”

But what about her connection to horses? Well, that’s important in defining Rhiannon’s reputation as ✨uncatchable✨ and it manifests largely in the myth.

So guys, the Myth of the Goddess Rhiannon is *Unhinged*

See, Rhiannon was royalty from a realm called The Bright World, but she was in love with a mortal Welsh king named Pywell. One day Rhiannon descends down to Earth, all golden atop a white horse, and Pywell is smitten. He mounts his most accomplished steed and chases after her, for days, weeks, months. But he could not catch her! Finally, he just tries *direct communication* and asks her to stay. She happily complies.

“Oh, dude, you should’ve just said that from the get-go,” Rhiannon flirts. “It would’ve been much kinder to the horse.”

And that’s how queens are made.

They get married, Rhiannon eventually gives birth to a baby boy, and then the myth gets FERAL. It includes badger ex-boyfriends, accusations of baby cannibalism, a weirdly kinky horse punishment, and, yes, an eventual happily ever after. If you’re willing to take that detour, I drank 2 glasses of Primo Monte and recount it below.

Otherwise, it’s enough to know is that Goddess Rhiannon is enchanting, patient, and capital M “Mystical.” She was willing to get what she wanted on her terms, and always emerged victorious after periods of great indignity.

However we perceive her, through song or story, “Rhiannon” has an inherent magic

It makes sense why a through-hell-and-back rock star like Stevie Nicks would develop a kinship towards this goddess. Over the years she’s tried to make the myth of Rhiannon manifest in different forms—as a book or movie, as a ballet, as a perfume, as a miniseries starring Harry Styles. None of it has panned out, but tbh Rhiannon’s done enough work for a lifetime.

By offering “Rhiannon,” Stevie was able to channel this divine feminine energy and transform Fleetwood Mac into something beyond a blues band. The lesson isn’t necessarily that adding witch shit + music = profit. It’s more that, performance and aesthetics are goddamn important in creating legend, and in order to find yours, you need to identify the magic throughline of your music. THAT’S what Stevie did.

I’m not so shallow to imply Fleetwood Mac is "the Stevie Nicks” band, but there’s no Lindsey Buckingham doll (he’s just Ken). Rumours is the album $60 Urban Outfitters t-shirts not whatever the fuck this is. And there’s a reason why the YouTube comment section of Fleetwood videos are populated with stories of real-life Rhiannons. It’s because Stevie Nicks saw a higher power she could summon…and eventually, became the power itself.

That, and she was tired of being a waitress.

As Always,

I Remain,

The One & Only,

Mary Grace

PS, I made you a playlist because I think you’re cute. 💋