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Chicks
with Dix
written by
B originally for Swanbomb - 2002
Where I come from, country music isn't an outlet for stories of lost animals, loves, and pickup trucks. Where I come from country music is a lifestyle. Each Friday night thousands of brainwashed cowpokes in NASCAR hats wander aimlessly towards the club, in the hopes that if their pants are tight enough, their bull-riding skills tough enough, that their expert execution of the "Achy Breaky Heart" line dance will catch the eye of "Lurlene." Or "Charlene." Anything ending in "lene." Trailer park people are weird, they'll name their kids "Susanlene" or "Rebeccalene" just to squeeze the dignity out of their childrens' names completely.
The sad thing about country music is that it isn't *all* depressing squeals about a lost love or a raccoon that got "runned over" in the road. Most of country music is about dancing in a barn, and maybe about race cars or something, I dunno, I don't listen to it much. There is one exception to the rule though, and the exception has taken a decidedly "raver-grrl" turn in the form of the "Dixie Chicks."
I put "Dixie Chicks" in quotes because this can't actually be their name. Country girl groups have wittier names than that. The real name is something like "Fat Natalie and the Whistle-Pop Cowgirls" or "Stompfeets and the Rootin' Tootin' Banjo Extravaganza." The Chicks consist of three unnecessarily happy young women, two nameless sisters and a woman who should not but does make me want to bring the dead back to life with a line dance, Natalie Maines.
Why is she so demanding and inspirational? Because she's short and chunky. There's nothing sexier on Earth than a short chunky girl. See Ginger Spice, Kate Winslet, Andy Griffith, or anybody who plays professional golf. Explained here is why I can detest country music and still sit through a Dixie Chicks concert. It's all because of her.
She's the "Sweetheart of the Rodeo Cheeseburger."
God that's classic. Write that down.
A good reason to appreciate these broads:
Shania Twain
Okay, so you don't have talent. That don't impress me much!
The big trend in popular music now is to be a "crossover artist," and the "so perky I'm fizzing from the ears" Twain is the cause of it. What you do is take an attractive woman with no obvious talent in as few inches of clothing as possible. To compensate for her lack of talent, put her in the entertainment business as a "country sweetheart." Country music fans don't seem to care whether or not you can sing as long as you're sweet and "down home." Give her a big hit song about "lovin'" or "leavin'" or whatever. Now the podunks of the world love her and will flock to Wal Mart to see her concerts.
Take her big song and remove all the country stuff - the steel guitars, the banjos, etc. Replace them with a techno beat and a team of back up singers. Then add in that stupid computer effect where the person sounds like they're warbling into a fan. The fucking Cher "Believe" computer crescendo that makes all self respecting music fans cringe and begin murdering randomly. Instantly she's a superstar in both country music and pop music. In pop music you don't need talent either, but you need a hook. Teenage girls and Carson Daly shit themselves for the Cher sound effect.
Faith Hill
I can feel you stop breathing.
The way things are going with music, Faith Hill could say "I would like to eat the heart of a baby" with that Cher sound effect and score a crossover hit. She'd get her video played on VH1 all the time and she'd get awards that'd make her cry a lot. Personally I'd like to punch her in her head until she cries a lot.
Who am I kidding? I could just say "country music makes good Christians randomly catch on fire" and get my point across. So, my bad concert experience.
I got the tickets because my dad works for a country radio station, and, between depressing teen death songs can use his influence to obtain useless artifacts, like Fiona Apple CD's or some fried chicken coupons. Why I decided to go takes a little more explanation:
The kids love that fiddle playin! Honky tonk superstars 4
EVAH!!111
Reason 1) It was free, and it promised more fun than an evening of "Must See TV." I swear to God, if "Friends" featured Jennifer Aniston bare-ass naked getting eaten out by an anime spaceship full of robot barnyard animals I might give half of a crap.
Reason 2) It gave me an opportunity to clothe myself in the most counterculture garb as possible, as to disgust the residents of Central Virginia and possible get me stabbed by one of the dirtier Dixie Chicks.
Reason 3) I could get a floor view of the chunky Dixie Chick bounding about on stage, each desirable roll of baby fat splooshing against her leather pants every time she begins to (attempt to) dance.
So you see? It was an attempt at sexual exploration born from boredom. Where I live people use moments like that to impregnate some other Virginian with some other sloped-forehead and have a litter of slope-headed little children. I just gave in to the temptation of country music. I'm a pioneer, dammit! Unfortunately my night didn't go quite as planned.
Problem 1) The "promised fun" became evident early on, as I sat silently in my floor seat, trying to peacefully eat my box of Bojangles spicy chicken fingers while thousands of 13 year old girls in unnecessarily tight leather pants and zebra-print cowboy hats broke glass around me with their adolescent shrieks.
Help me..... help meeeee...
To make matters worse, the Dixie Chicks' second album is called "Fly," so in addition to the giant pair of pants onstage there was a giant inflatable housefly floating around the ceiling, dropping T-shirts and assorted memorabilia to appease the crowd while the Chicks sat around backstage drinking moonshine or something.
You've never been uncomfortable until you've tried to eat spicy chicken fingers in a crowd of teenage girls while a fly 30 times your size hovers above you. It was like I was in some fucked up H.R. Geiger dream.
Problem 2) Nothing I could've worn would've stood out in this crowd. I thought country music crowds were supposed to wear blue jeans and spit a lot. I've never seen so many animal print cowboy hats in my life. Zebra, leopard, snake, sea cow, otter, sperm whale...the World Wildlife Foundation should've broken down the door and executed them all gang-style. The hats aren't actually made from the animal, but regardless it's an insult. If I saw some BBMak-looking turd wearing a Swan-print hat I'd park a tank on each one of his legs just so I could kick him in the nuts for the rest of my life without any obstruction.
Problem 3) And here's where the real problem comes in...the chubby Dixie Chick isn't even really that chubby anymore! And lately she's been doing things that make her anything but attractive. For instance, when I went to the concert, she was pregnant.
But what's worse is that she's started dressing like Big Poppa Pump.
SO FOR ALL MY FREAKS OUT THERE...HOLLAH IF YA HEAR ME
If I'm going to get the jones in the bones for some chick I don't
want her looking like Scott Steiner. I'd rather sleep with some
chick with eighteen alien babies inside her, oozing out of her
bellybutton and spitting acid against my bedroom wall than sleep
with some chick that reminded me of the "Big Bad Booty
Daddy."
So now I'm in an arena full of girls without pubes wearing pants that don't cover their butt crack while a monster fly hovers above me and Scott Steiner dances poorly about the stage singing songs about "heartbreak" and "boot scootin' boogies" while other, undesirable women play the fiddle and the banjo.
I was in Heaven, and Jesus Christ himself was holding me down while the Holy Spirit hocked loogies on my face.
