Most music lovers demonstrate their enthusiasm by their variety and flexibility of taste. They listen to pop and rock, hip-hop and jazz. They can even hold their own with blues and classical. But there's one genre even my most open-minded friends won't touch: country. Specifically, contemporary country music.
Though shortsighted and stereotypical, there are several reasons for this bias. Listen to the songs on a country station and you'll encounter niceties about the importance of family, being true to your love, enjoying every day. The arrangements are uncomplicated, the melodies sweet, the vocals flavored with a bit of twang. Unlike pop radio, the singers are usually a little older, and they'll often have a wife or a child, maybe a father or a grandfather. The performers are mostly white, often male. Rather than titillating or exuberant, contemporary country is comforting and preachy, or good-timin' and playful. And all of this makes a lot of people gag. They think it's the work of dumb hillbillies and they dismiss it out of hand.
And, yet, there really hasn't been a music more in tune with post-9/11 America than country. This fact only makes the recent Dixie Chicks controversy more complex and revealing.
Since Garth Brooks restored country's popularity in the early-'90s, the format has kidnapped many a listener disenfranchised with the superficiality of pop music and all that gosh-durn cursing of hip-hop. The promos for KZLA, L.A.'s successful country station, make the selling points pretty clear. On these commercials, we hear men and women expressing their satisfaction with country music, how it's "real music" with lyrics they can relate to that tell stories. And then comes the kicker: One listener asserts that this music reminds him of just how much he loves this country.
The image and idea of America has helped sell a lot of products since the World Trade Center attacks, from flags to duct tape, but country music might be the most forgotten. Never mind sales and chart positions: No other genre has so publicly addressed this nation's mood and temperament in the last 18 months. Bruce Springsteen's The Rising tackled the subject overtly, but how often did you hear that album on the radio? Meanwhile, country stations gave us Alan Jackson's "Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)," Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)," and most recently Darryl Worley's "Have You Forgotten?" Each in its own way -- whether humble, antagonistic, or strident -- addresses the attacks and their aftermath in a common-man fashion. And they share a supportive reassurance that this, indeed, is one hell of a nation. Country stations are only too happy to second that notion -- it's become their gimmick, their hook.
The Dixie Chicks have flirted with the great big mainstream world outside of country's palace walls, but singer Natalie Maines' recent inflammatory comments were the first time the band really risked jeopardizing their substantial audience. Basically, the band broke contemporary country's unwritten commandment: Though Shall Not Badmouth the U. S. of A.
It's been almost three weeks since Maines, at a London concert, announced that she was embarrassed that she was from the same state as President Bush. Ordinarily, this would be just one more example of playing-to-the-crowd stage patter, a calculated comment that would draw easy cheers. With popular opinion decidedly mixed in the UK before the war began, several performers have made similar (and very public) statements of protest, perhaps most notably Coldplay's Chris Martin at the Brit Awards. But no one flooded radio stations with calls to ban Coldplay singles; no one organized groups to bulldoze over their CDs or burn them in pyres. And even here in the States, when Fred Durst coined the term "agreeance" at the Grammys while speaking out against the war, angry Bush loyalists didn't take to the streets to boycott Limp Bizkit products. John Mellencamp, the Beastie Boys, and Madonna have recorded anti-war songs -- where's the backlash?
Only the Dixie Chicks are facing severe repercussions. And even though irate once-fans are burning and otherwise destroying their Chicks CDs in front of TV cameras, the biggest side effect thus far has been that Cumulus Media, the Clear Channel of the country-radio world, imposed a blackout of the band's singles. Trying to repair the damage, Maines has issued an apology to Bush, clarifying her statements by back-peddling. Maines appears very cowardly by retracting her criticism, but she and the band clearly recognize the simple economics of the situation. Country is America's music, but there's no room for a contrary, unsoothing voice in that world.
Country didn't always used to be so tame and genteel, and the Dixie Chicks are aware of that. For all their bluegrass-lite and Stevie Nicks easy-listening, the Chicks at least have a working knowledge of the music's roots. The first single off their latest album, Home, deserves credit for even mentioning some of the genre's legends. In "Long Time Gone," the band laments the state of country radio, pointing out that greats like Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, and Hank Williams have been relegated to the musty old past. It's done subtly but the point is well taken: These days, it's a pleasant shock to see someone like Haggard on CMT, and most of country radio sounds like a laid-back, sedate version of pop radio. It's Adult Contemporary with fiddles.
If most of liberal Hollywood (not to mention the rock 'n' roll community) can be faulted for jumping on the anti-war bandwagon because it's a popular pose now, then country's ultra-conservative tact is just as unnerving. Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" remains a staple of country radio after many, many months, and it would be nice to say that prolonged exposure has tempered its frighteningly hawkish vengeance. But, no, the song remains a deeply disturbing evocation of national spirit.
Threatening to put a boot up some A-rab's ass because of the terrorist attacks, "Courtesy" is a scarily straight version of one of Randy Newman's satirical character pieces. Even when Springsteen got criticized for the faux-gung-ho spirit of "Born in the U.S.A.," the disillusioned lyrics undercut the fervor. In contrast, "Courtesy" is unapologetically exactly what it sounds like -- a revenge tale. It's no less disgusting than hip-hop's lyrical glorification of gats and sodomy. Nevertheless, Keith speaks to an audience that desperately wants to be heard. These people love the United States, are deeply scarred by the attacks, and are looking for answers. Keith gives them without much thought of the consequences.
Neither Jackson nor Worley offer anything quite so repugnant. Jackson's song, in fact, continues to feel courageously evenhanded in its reaction, weighing the need to lash out in anger with the need to find some sort of human decency in the face of catastrophe. Worley's recent hit, on the other hand, just feels like Keith's after it's taken a deep breath and calmed down a bit. From its title on down, "Have You Forgotten?" sounds a lot like the mantra coming out of Washington. There's nothing wrong with songs of support for this war, but the tone of the debate on country radio is so monochromatic that it feels simpleminded rather than stirring.
The Dixie Chicks have inadvertently rocked that boat by offering the first non-conciliatory statement about the Iraq conflict. They've faced controversy before, when they released the anti-spousal abuse song "Goodbye Earl" in 2000, presenting a tongue-in-cheek scenario where a no-good husband gets killed for giving his wife another black eye. There, the band was using satire to explore a serious subject that subverted the home-and-hearth platitudes of most country radio. These ladies will never be confused with Michael Moore or Tim Robbins -- they are, at heart, populist lightweights with shiny, accessible material -- but they thankfully have a sense of humor and a willingness to provoke their wide audience.
And now they're paying for it. I'd love to see them have the courage to stand behind Maines' original comment -- even if, at worst, she was just shooting off her mouth at the moment to be trendy. But even then, Home was one of the biggest-selling albums of last year, and it would be great for them to follow through on their ongoing testing of their audience.
In the past, country was a place of protest and commentary. Some of Johnny Cash's best songs condemned the Vietnam War, another controversial conflict, by personifying the men who came back forever changed. And even Haggard's beloved "Okie from Muskogee" was a spoof on the fanaticism of conservative values rather than an outright embrace of them.
The Dixie Chicks are in a unique position in country music history. Successfully crossing over, embracing both pop and country fans, these three women are stuck in the middle of a great political divide. While country preaches patriotism, pop applauds rebellion and anti-establishment behavior. "Long Time Gone" rightly bemoaned the lack of substance and conviction in their country peers. Even if they are just innocent victims of a competitive, fickle marketplace, it's been a shame to watch the Dixie Chicks chicken out now.
