“黛西琼斯& 6” has its share of sex, drugs and music biz madness. But compared to such recent limited series as “Pam & Tommy” and “Pistol,” this Amazon Prime Video production’s vibe is more easy listening than hard rock.

That’s not necessarily a negative. “Daisy” may often be a conventional rock-star soap opera/fantasy, but it sure satisfies on those terms. Like the title band, this well-written series engages despite cliched hooks, flames out spectacularly and leaves us drained yet shouting “More!”

Adapted from Taylor Jenkins Reid’s bestselling 2019 novel, “Daisy” charts the rise and implosion of a 1970s group loosely based on the multiplatinum incarnation of Fleetwood Mac. It’s framed in flashback by interviews with the principal players, conducted 20 years after the band’s last concert at its chart-topping peak in 1977.

Thirty-something leads Riley Keough and Sam Claflin look a bit jarring in early episodes as, respectively, unloved Los Angeles teen songwriter Daisy and Pittsburgh garage band frontman Billy Dunne. But once those troubled souls are brought together by benevolent record producer Teddy Price (Tom Wright), the actors’ maturity enhances the adult-oriented, if often childish, shenanigans to come.

Billy struggles to stay straight after a huge bender wrecked the Six’s first tour. He’s also trying to be a faithful husband to his hometown sweetheart Camila (Camila Morrone), who accompanied him and the boys to — where else? — Laurel Canyon (and every other California rock landmark from Sound City to the Whisky a Go Go).

Daisy, meanwhile, will swallow or snort just about anything. She doesn’t care about much except getting credit for her junior Joni Mitchell compositions; one crappy boyfriend stole her lyrics for his own recording. When Teddy introduces her to Billy, egos clash with palpable tension and some hilarity.

Wrecking ball Daisy makes fun of Billy’s wimpy lines about his wife and the rain, then rewrites them into better, more pessimistic songs. But he’s no pushover, and eventually makes her admit that he’s “the most talented person I’ve ever met, beside me.” Romantic tension soon billows out of every moment Daisy and Billy are together, offstage and on.

Reportedly Claflin and Keough, cast before COVID hit, spent the lockdown learning to play instruments and sing. They harmonize almost impossibly well.

The other musician actors also convince. Will Harrison is Graham Dunne, lead guitarist and Billy’s earnest younger brother. He’s in love with Karen Sirko (Suki Waterhouse), the pragmatic English keyboardist they recruit in Los Angeles, who’s not into commitment nor sexist speculation about women’s place in rock. And Nabiyah Be (“Black Panther: Wakanda Forever”) displays great pipes and conflicted soul as Daisy’s only friend, Simone Jackson, whose budding disco career is both enabled and threatened by a lesbian relationship. No shortage of subplot drama with these and others.

Original songs were produced by Dawes’ Blake Mills, andPhoebe Bridgersis listed as one of the contributors. The resulting sound is more “Buckingham Nicks” than “Rumours” quality, but serviceable enough for TV purposes. Along with the performance footage, the series’ most engaging (and smartest) bits involve Billy and Daisy’s efforts to create meaningful hits together.

RegardingStevie Nicks, no one’s approximated her swirling sleeve-wings dance style better than Keough. And there are moments — usually when Daisy’s at her most blitzed — when the actress exhibits the bedroom-eyed appeal of her grandfather,Elvis Presley. Kudos to the makeup department for pulling that off, and for the artfully natural way the entire cast ages in the interview sections.

That device has its own surprise payoff in the final episode, and it’s kind of beautiful. While the series may be criticized for a certain rose-colored approach to rock’s manipulation, selfishness and self-destruction, its fundamental good humor is quite compelling. Imperfect and fault-ridden like the people it depicts, “Daisy Jones & the Six” has a hard-earned forgiving heart that may leave you a blubbering mess.

Bob Strauss is a freelance writer.