Fleetwood Mac have the strangest effect on the least likely people. They're MOR with edge. Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, who turned the drama of their disintegrating relationship into one of the best-selling albums ever made (1977's Rumours), are that edge. They flaunt it tonight. Buckingham and Nicks, the Meg and Jack White of dreamy, druggy '70s adult soft rock, act like this is the epilogue to the longest-running soap opera in rock'n'roll. He kisses her hand. They hug. They slow dance. They sing "Say Goodbye", one of the two valedictory ballads that climax the recent Say You Will comeback set, not to the crowd but to each other as if to apologise, right there, in front of several thousand forty-somethings in sensible knitwear, for hurting each other in the name of love. Then - and Uncut nuts you not - during faster number "What's The World Coming To" Stevie plays the bull to Lindsey's matador and, hunched forward, charges across the stage at his invisible cape with her index fingers poking above her head as horns. There is no weirder group in mainstream rock.