"Trouble" (Lindsey Buckingham)

"Trouble" from the album Law and Order (1981) was one of my favorite songs as a little kid.  I recall the single came out around the time of my 4th birthday.  The reason I remember this is because my family treated my dad and me to birthday dinner (our birthdays were 3 days apart) at my favorite restaurant, and "Trouble" was playing over the restaurant speakers as we waited for our table.
Let me set the scene: I was not your typical 4-year-old kid.  I was an only child, and I hung out around the adults in my family a lot.  So my tastes in everything (T.V., music, food, etc.) definitely skewed older.  While it's true that I liked Sesame Street, my Disney singalong records, and Happy Meals like any other kid that age, if anyone had asked me to name my favorite show/record/food, the response would have been WKRP in Cincinnati, Abbey Road, and Reuben sandwiches.  Yes, that's right: my favorite meal at age 4 was not pizza or pasketti; it was corned beef, melted Swiss, and sauerkraut on buttered, grilled rye.  This is what I got every time we went to Tuesday's Restaurant at Asheville Mall.  And I insisted upon ordering it myself: "Reuben sandwich, no Thousand Island, pickle on the side, and a sarsaparilla with two cherries."  
The "two cherries" bit inevitably elicited chuckles from the servers.  Occasionally, one of the waitresses would think my delivery was particularly cute, and I'd end up with half a jar of maraschino cherries in my drink. 
After dinner that evening, my grandmother asked what I wanted for my birthday.  Without hesitation, I told her I wanted to go to Record Bar and get two singles: "Trouble" and this other song that I'd heard on the radio but didn't know its name, which meant I was going to have to hum it to the clerk.  (I'm not going to reveal what the other song was because it's my favorite song of all time.  You'll find out in a couple of weeks.)
Long story short, Record Bar was sold out of "Trouble," and they didn't have the other single because, well, it was from 1965 (even though it sounded like punk or New Wave to me).  So I left empty-handed.  I probably would have put up more of a fuss, but it was late, and I was full and sleepy.  Plus, we heard "Trouble" again on the radio on the drive home before I conked out.
Anyway, the reason why I still enjoy listening to "Trouble" today (apart from nostalgia) is because it's so well crafted.
When you listen to anything by Buckingham, be it something from a solo project or with Fleetwood Mac, there's this meticulous attention to detail.  But there's also a bit of quirkiness—a purposely ragged edge, an unusual texture, or some unique treatment that makes you wonder "what is that instrument?"  
"Trouble" is no exception.  The lush vocal harmonies.  The note-perfect flamenco guitar solo.  And the almost zither-like sound of the haunting guitar riff on the refrain.  (A quick Google search on how Buckingham achieved that sound miraculously returned a 1981 article from the Bay Area's BAM magazine, in which he reveals that he recorded his guitar at half-speed and then played it back at full speed to get those dulcet tones.)
Simply put, it's a well-made pop song with a few tricks up its sleeve.

"What Makes You Think You're the One" (Fleetwood Mac)

I like Lindsey Buckingham best when he has the forum and freedom to be as weird and experimental as he wants to be.  Sure, it takes skill and talent to write/produce a pop song; but it takes guts to push your music so far from center that it teeters on the brink of madness.
Although his more recent solo albums thoroughly showcase his experimental side (1997's Under the Skin remains a personal favorite of mine), Fleetwood Mac's Tusk (1979) probably was the first inkling that he was more than just Stevie Nicks's arranger.  Every one of his tracks on the album have this hyperactive, New Wave-y urgency that signal discontentment with being a "soft rock" star.
A good example is the track "What Makes You Think You're the One."  Not unlike the acerbic "Go Your Own Way," it's a song about Buckingham's strange and complicated relationship with Nicks.  Only this time around, he's not willing to give her his world.  In fact, he's saying that he's tired of having to prop her up, musically and emotionally.
Not only does Buckingham sound fantastically unhinged, singing like a madman over his own piano and guitar accompaniment, but Mick Fleetwood beats his drums like they insulted his mother.  It's so primal and anti-pop that you might be tempted to check the album cover to make sure you're actually listening to Fleetwood Mac.  (Or, better yet, it's a reminder that Buckingham and the Mac are more than just the sum of their Top 40 hits.)