Drunk on truth to stupid baby power.

Fleetwood Mac Friday #18: I Know I’m Not Wrong


The Tusk deluxe edition, Fleetwood Mac’s gift to anybody working at a desk all day who doesn’t feel like switching over windows to put on a new album, singles out a couple songs– “I Know I’m Not Wrong” and “Tusk“– and arranges a bunch of their demos and alternate versions in a row. You see the way the songs evolve and come together, and the versions range from “what an excitingly different version” to “is one of my earbuds broken?”

These two songs share a repetitive, percussive, head-nodding rhythm and a petulant, cokeheaded ‘tude, and “I Know I’m Not Wrong,” despite its minimal lyrics, is a great fuckboy anthem in the classic Lindsey vein. Catharsis is important, and as you get older I think it can be important to widen the types of vicarious transgression you allow yourself to experience through music, fiction, etc. When you’re a teen all you need is “What Do I Get?” and “I hate the teachers and the principal…” Later in life, your temptations broaden to include pettiness, smallness, vindictiveness, jealousy, arrogance, bitchiness… all behaviors you’re holding yourself back from over the course of daily life, in order to avoid confrontation. For the same reason I love Kanye’s and Drake’s brilliantly entitled whining, I encourage you to indulge in this, of a Friday: I know I’m not wrong. I know I’m not wrong. I know I’m not wrong. I know I’m not wrong. I know I’m not wrong. I know I’m not wrong.



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