The other Griffin composition, “Top of the World,” finds Maines narrating from a haze between life and death, lamenting “a whole lot of singing that’s never gonna be heard.” The arrangement is the album’s most elaborate. Its orchestral swell is punctuated with dramatic pauses that stretch it out past the six-minute mark, as if the song itself is fading in and out of consciousness. It threatens a long, eerie quiet, an afterlife to be avoided at all costs.
The Dixie Chicks named their tour after that song. The original plan was to bring the album’s rootsy sound to small theaters, joined by a rotating cast of like-minded artists: “We’re thinking Lilith Fair with men and without politics,” Maines joked. They tested out a few shows in this style after the album’s release and eventually decided to take it to arenas. Full-band, big crowds. They kicked things off in London in March 2003. Before playing their latest single “Traveling Soldier,” Maines addressed the Iraq War that would officially begin in just nine days. She told the audience calmly that the band did not agree with the war and that they were embarrassed to be from the same state as George W. Bush. The crowd applauded; the band counted off and started the song.
In an alternate universe, the show goes on and everyone agrees with Maines that the war is a disaster. But because this is country music in the 21st century, because they are women, because of Bush’s approval rating post-9/11, because of Toby Keith and the angry American, they find themselves facing a violent backlash. There are death threats. Radio stations stop playing their music and urge fans to destroy their CDs. Sales decline. Sponsors drop. “I mean, the Dixie Chicks… They shouldn’t have their feelings hurt just because some people don’t want to buy their records when they speak out. Freedom is a two-way street,” Bush comments. “What a dumb fuck,” Maines responds, staring directly at the camera in a documentary called Shut Up and Sing.
The film, which documents the response to that night in London, also explores the making of Taking the Long Way, their follow-up to Home. A complicated, often autobiographical rock album produced by Rick Rubin, it plays like a new start—their first record on which every song featured a writing credit from a band member—but also a farewell. “Do you really think we’re going to make an album for you and trust the future of our career to people who turned on us in a day?” is how Maines explained their abandonment of country music. The first single, “Not Ready to Make Nice,” remains one of their best songs, an explosive ballad about standing by your beliefs. When the song was first presented by songwriter Dan Wilson, it was an apologetic, crowd-pleasing track called “Undivided.” Maines had some edits.
By the time they performed the song at the 2007 Grammys, where they won every category in which they were nominated, the public perception of Bush and the war had changed. But the band still suffered the consequences. Album and ticket sales had fallen short of the label’s expectations, with little support from the radio stations they had previously relied on. The performance that night marked their last for years, as the members embarked on quiet side projects. It wasn’t until they heard a cover of one of their songs by Taylor Swift—and the massive response it got from her audience—that they decided to embark on a full comeback tour in 2013.
Daniel D`Amico for SANREMO.FM
