By Jeremy Lott on 7.25.06 @ 12:08AM
The secret of the Dixie Chicks' diminishing appeal.
If you haven't heard of the Dixie Chicks, then something must be
wrong with you, man. Even before lead singer Natalie Maines's
infamous slip of the tongue, they were everywhere:
The vanguard of New Country (or Pop Country) that could draw new
customers to the genre? The group of Texas bad girls that was
willing to take on the record execs to get their fair share? The
violent femmes who gave the world "Earl Had To Die," a whimsical
number about a battered wife who poisons her husband? The music
video featured the Chicks dancing with the reanimated corpse of
Earl. Surely you've heard of that?
If not then there is a 94.9 percent probability that you heard
of the Chicks after Maines set up the song "Travelin' Soldier"
before an audience at 2,2000 seat venue in London on March 10,
2003, by saying, "Just so you know, we're ashamed the president of
the United states is from Texas."
That tore it. According to Entertainment Weekly senior
writer Chris Willman's plucky book Rednecks & Bluenecks: The Politics of
Country Music, the reaction to Maines's remarks was fast and
furious and sometimes baffling. U.S. wires picked up the story from
London's Guardian and talk radio hosts and morning shock
jocks spread the story. Then the boycotts began and CD smashing
parties were organized around the country, often by conservative
activists. Country stations dropped Chicks music from their play
lists in response to complaints from angry listeners and even those
few stations that continued to play the Chicks tended to recycle
older, less radioactive songs. And, yes, the death threats started
trickling in.
Their then-latest album Home had been certified
platinum six times over. "At the rapid clip at which the CD was
then selling," Willman wrote, "eight or nine million seemed within
easy reach...But two years after the controversy unfolded the album
still hadn't officially been bumped up to seven million." And their
current album isn't likely to sell anywhere near that many
units.
One of the questions that Williams tried to answer is, Why were
country fans so upset? It couldn't have been simply that the Chicks
were against the war in Iraq. "Travelin' Soldier" was a song about
a young man who went to Vietnam and died, breaking a young girl's
tender heart; and "More Love" took a jab at "people fightin' their
wars" who "think they'll be happy/ When they've settled their
scores." Both songs were on Home, which sold briskly until
Maines opened her mouth to talk. Also, other country
mainstays -- such as Merle Haggard -- managed to be openly anti-war
without alienating their audience.
The Chicks manage to provoke such a reaction because, one,
Maines had signaled not just disagreement with President Bush, but
contempt for him. Most of the critics of President Bush simply
cannot comprehend how a lot of ordinary, Southern and middle
American folks identify with the man. He's a plain-talking
evangelical Christian, and they don't like seeing one of their own
being kicked around. Two, she did it on foreign soil. Many, many
Americans have a visceral loathing for people who go to other
countries and criticize their nation in time of war (see Jane
Fonda). It's like dragging perfect strangers into a family
dispute.
But those two reasons don't explain the full grand mal reaction
to the Chicks. The girls tried to be conciliatory at first but
they've long since stopped trying. Instead, they have embraced
their status as free speech "martyrs," in the original sense of the
word ("to bear witness").
Left-leaning culture vultures including Michael Moore to Frank
Rich took up their cause and argued that, contrary to all
observable evidence, the boycott wasn't hurting record sales. Half
of the members of the Madison, Wisconsin city counsel co-sponsored
a resolution stipulating that (a) the Chicks should receive the
keys to the city; (b) their music should be played during recesses;
(c) if Chicks should ever choose to visit, they should be feted
with food and French wine; and (d) they should consider changing
their name to the "Dairyland Chicks." Since people aren't burnt at
the stake in the U.S., the Chicks opted for the next best thing:
The trio posed nude for the cover of Entertainment Weekly
with various cheers and jeers stenciled on their bodies (i.e.,
"DIXIE SLUTS," "TRAITORS," "PROUD AMERICANS").
You might think that the group would have worked it out of their
system by now but, alas, no such luck. Maybe some of the ink was
permanent. The first song on their new album Taking the Long
Way declares that their way has been made harder because they
wouldn't "Kiss all the asses they told me to." It may have been
"two long years now/ Since the top of the world came crashing
down," but the Chicks have decided to linger in that moment. The
song "Not Ready to Make Nice" is exactly what you would expect: a
stew of shock and anger and righteous indignation. The singer is
"through with doubt" and "mad as hell" and other such things.
"Lubbock or Leave It" is an attack on awful hypocrisy (sigh) of the
West Texas town. And the final song, "I Hope," begins like so:
Sunday morning, I heard the preacher say
Thou shall not kill
I don't wanna, hear nothin' else, about killin'
And that it's God's will
In isolation, that's a beautiful sentiment, and it's not a bad
song. But the Chicks are pretty good at ignoring that "preacher"
unless he agrees with them. Opinions about the Iraq war have
shifted a bit in the U.S. since 2003, so country fans might have
let it drop, but the Dixie Chicks made a conscious choice not to
give them that option. The album is a giant middle finger to
critics. To add inflection to this point, the group kicked off the
new tour at what their own website describes as "the scene of the crime," the
Shepherd's Bush (really, that's its name) theatre in London.
As the U.S. leg of the tour gets into full swing, the Chicks
won't have to stare down the sort of massive negative PR buzz saw
that they did last time because many of the group's former fans
have lost interest. Maines can now talk, or sing, or yodel all she
wants, but fewer people will be listening.
topics:
Iraq, Oil