The Dixie Chicks Make Nice With Nashville

The Spin had some burning questions ahead of the Dixie Chicks' return to Bridgestone Arena Wednesday night, seeing as how George W. Bush was still president and you could rent a place for less than $1,000/month in 12South the last time the trio played there. Who are the Dixie Chicks' fans now that the band's been absent from country radio for close to 15 years? Would Natalie Maines, Emily Strayer and Martie Maguire do anything differently for the Nashville stop of the DCX MMXVI comeback tour, considering how Music City's such an important part of their story? We were determined to find out.

As for the first question, the fans don't seem terribly different than the Chicks' original supporters, save for a handful of conservative types they probably sloughed off after Maines' 2001 remarks about Bush. This well-dressed crowd at the Bridgestone definitely skewed toward adult women, aside from a handful of kids accompanying their mothers. The male contingent was represented by a smattering of husbands, boyfriends and clusters of proudly gay men. And maybe we weren't looking in the right place, but we didn't notice any groups of woke straight bros ready to jam out to "Wide Open Spaces." One of these days, maybe.

Nashville-residing openers Smooth Hound Smith, the first of two acts on the undercard, delivered a set of country-blues and folk, with guitarist Zack Smith kicking his bass drum while brassy singer Caitlin Doyle belted out her troubles. Between sets, the two video screens kept people entertained with (surprisingly great) karaoke performances of "Goodbye Earl" culled from YouTube and a greatest-hits reel of singer Maines' incendiary tweets, plus ad campaigns for Proclaim Justice and Planned Parenthood.

Vintage Trouble was up next, with singer Ty Taylor looking dapper in an all-white suit with a fedora and a peacock feather in his lapel pocket. Their retro-styled brand of bloozy garage rock and R&B was designed for a party atmosphere, but the only problem was that no one in the crowd seemed to know their songs. Still, that didn't stop them from insisting we all sing along during the breakdowns, and to the singer's credit, he was working his ass off to win us over.

The Chicks would have no such issue with the crowd. As the lights went down and the final bittersweet strains of Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" faded, Maines, Strayer and Maguire emerged deep in the stage as a lighting rig made its ascent toward the rafters. They were on message from the first notes, opening with "The Long Way Around" from 2006's post-fallout album Taking the Long Way, addressing anyone who's ever felt pinned in by their surroundings and needed to do some rambling in the name of self-discovery. 

"Long time no see!" said Maines, stating the painfully obvious.

Dressed in stark black-and-white along with the rest of their band, Maines & Co. put a best foot forward for the duration. Maines is still one of the finest belters out there, and Strayer and Maguire can rip on their respective instruments — you know, the ones not so frequently heard on country radio these days. But the monochromatic stage wear helped with presentation as well, morphing from the black and white backing of "Lubbock or Leave It" and "Truth #2" to the colorful backdrops that augmented "Easy Silence," "Some Days You Gotta Dance," and a grooving full-band arrangement of "Long Time Gone."

It was pretty much peak after peak from that point, and we're not going to lie to you: The Spin got a little misty-eyed during the solemn Prince tribute "Nothing Compares 2 U," with Maines nearly out Sinead-ing Sinead O'Connor's vocal performance, and the additions of steel guitar and fiddle giving it an extra-heavy dose of sadness. Before we could recover, they were playing Patty Griffin's "Top of the World," building from a whisper to a sustained, dramatic finish as they depicted a man whose inability — or refusal — to communicate his emotions and be supportive destroys everything around him.

If we needed any clearer indication that women were an important focus of this show, "Goodbye Earl" was the clincher. Always controversial due to the way it played a serious problem for laughs, "Earl" was magnificent as the conclusion to the first portion of the set. While Maines sneered out the grisly details of the titular abusive asshole's murder, the video screen behind the group shifted from clips of porcelain-skinned Golden Age of Hollywood starlets to news clippings of real-life assholes like O.J. Simpson, Robert Durst, Chris Brown and Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump (complete with penciled-on devil horns). Mercifully, this was clearly a majority with-her Clinton crowd.

This theme of feminine strength and complexity carried through to the more stripped-down second section of the show, which included a costume change to different black-and-white outfits. After the three of them played a pristine "Travelin' Soldier," their band lined up across the lip of the stage for yet another Patty Griffin cover, a drone-heavy "Don't Let Me Die in Florida" and a boot-stomping version of Beyoncé's "Daddy Lessons." Queen Bey was referenced again in the bluegrass jam concluding this section of the show, with Maguire sawing out the melody from "Single Ladies" as well as bits of the White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army."

Returning to the original full-stage, electric presentation, the Chicks cranked through "Ready to Run" (which had some confusing, cartoonish political video imagery) and shot off a metric fuckton (we think that's the preferred nomenclature) of confetti that somehow wasn't the grand finale. No, after a crew member ran a leaf blower across the stage, the Chicks tackled Bob Dylan's "Mississippi" and set up Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" by talking about their mindset when they originally covered it 15 years ago.

"We were one baby in, and we felt really connected to the line, 'I'm getting older too,' " explained Maines. "Nine babies in, I say bullshit to all of it."

This set closed with a trifecta of highlights in "Cowboy Take Me Away," "Wide Open Spaces" and a blistering romp through "Sin Wagon," every woman in the crowd singing like they were reciting the gospel during revival. In the middle of this, we also celebrated Strayer's birthday with a mostly nude man bearing cake, and a balloon-drop that enveloped every single square inch of the stage. "We hope you don't wait another 10 years before you invite us back," Maines said.

The two-song encore consisted of the Dixie Chicks' 2006 protest ballad "Not Ready to Make Nice" and a drum-heavy run through Ben Harper's "Better Way" that included the supporting performers and the Chicks' own children. Using the image of a rainbow heart to promote inclusiveness and love, they repeated the title line countless times, mantra-like, likely in hopes that it might leave a lasting impression.

For as many connections as they no doubt have to Nashville, and as much as it played a role in their commercial heyday, the trio treated this stop pretty much like any other on this tour — with consummate professionalism, but without any commentary on the industry here beyond a sweet memory of seeing Patty Griffin play at the Ryman some years ago. It was almost disappointing in a way, given Maines' legendary penchant for making pointed statements.

But then, exiting the arena after the house lights came up, it dawned on us: They've moved on from the baggage of the past. Seeing the concertgoers stream out onto Lower Broadway and into the humid night air, hearts full and content from the experience, it seemed like maybe Nashville has too.