Stevie Nicks is more than a rock icon: She's the high priestess of her own religion, ruling a world of prancing gypsies, gold-dust princesses and white-winged doves, all without going anywhere near a sensible shoe Like David Bowie or Bryan Ferry, Nicks has spent a career turning her private fantasies into an elaborate pop mythology. And even when she gets carried away, she still has that soulful ache in her voice. On Enchanted, a three-CD retrospective of her solo career, you can hear how faithfully Nicks has followed her vision. As she confesses in 1983's excellent "Nightbird," "I wear boots all summer long."

Enchanted combines live rarities and B sides with radio hits like "Stand Back." But the emotional highlight is "Ooh My Love" (originally buried on the long-forgotten The Other Side of the Mirror), about a princess who feels like a prisoner in her own castle even though she's still terrified of the world outside. It's Nicks' love letter to her fans, and, like the rest of Enchanted, it makes you admire her fierce compassion for the lost girls in her flock. She's lasted so long as an icon because she's never forgotten how it feels to teeter in high heels on the edge of seventeen.

Nicks' bruised voice is badly missed on Legacy, where lightweights like Tonic, Matchbox 20 and the Cranberries cover Fleetwood Mac's Rumours all the way through. You've been singing these songs in the shower your whole life, but you've never heard them sound this dull. As producer Mick Fleetwood damn well knows, Rumours wasn't just a singer/songwriter album; it was also the masterwork of an ace rhythm section, and most of these folks wouldn't know an offbeat if it bit them on the leg. Even worse, everyone tries to make these tortured breakup songs sound cheerful. Legacy leaves a mighty strange aftertaste; it makes you appreciate Stevie Nicks almost as much as Enchanted does. (RS 786)

ROB SHEFFIELD