I Went to the Global Epicenter of Election-Night Libbing Out. It Was Fantastic.

Politics The Chicks rocked, and they remain unwilling to make nice. By Enter your email to receive alerts for this author. Sign in or create an account to better manage your email preferences. Unsubscribe from email alerts Are you sure you want to unsubscribe from email alerts for Alex Kirshner? Nov 06, 202612:10 PM Randy Holmes/Disney via Getty Images Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. In the early evening on Tuesday in Los Angeles, it was becoming clear that big things were afoot a few thousand miles away, in Texas. Gina Hinojosa was about to become governor-elect, unseating Greg Abbott, and, in the Senate race, James Talarico was about to flush Ken Paxton down the toilet. Over here on the West Coast, I had been hoping to spend the night covering the campaign parties of Karen Bass (the establishment Democrat mayor) and Nithya Raman (the progressive challenger, who on Thursday would be declared the winner). But I couldn’t connect with the campaigns to get a press credential. And so instead of parachuting into the city’s Democrat-on-Democrat conflict, I found some Texans who were about to spike the football after beating a much grander enemy. The Chicks were about to take the stage for their third night at the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood. I love this band. Their song “Easy Silence” was the first-dance song at our wedding. The ticket was a mere $40 on StubHub, and I wanted to see the show. But more than that, I had a feeling that going to see The Chicks on this night, of all nights, might mean witnessing the greatest display of “libbing out” in U.S. history. I was right. “Well, hello, Los Angeles,” lead singer Natalie Maines said after the night’s first song, as an audience likely lacking a single registered Republican roared in approval. Then all three bandmates pulled out red fans emblazoned with “FUCK TRUMP” and began fanning themselves as Maines went on. “Welcome to our bluenami. So glad we could enjoy this night together. Texas is blue. The Senate is blue. The House is blue. This would be a very different night if that wasn’t the case.” Maines also said she was on a significant amount of prednisone, and that it was keeping her going by this point in the tour. The last time an American president started a war of choice in the Middle East that became a presidency-ruining quagmire, this trio of Texan musicians became the first real victims of what, today, conservatives would call “cancel culture.” Touring in London, Maines let loose on a fellow Texan, George W. Bush. “Just so you know, we’re on the good side with y’all,” Maines told the crowd. “We do not want this war, this violence, and we’re ashamed that the president of the United States is from Texas.” Maines’ remarks became an expensive, life-threatening spectacle. Country radio stations took cues from an enraged conservative audience and reduced the band from one of the most popular acts in the country to a pariah, more or less overnight. Death threats prompted the installation of metal detectors outside their concerts. Maines and her bandmates, sisters Martie Maguire and Emily Strayer, required beefed-up personal security. Fans booed the announcement of their nomination at the Academy of Country Music Awards; they lost out to Toby Keith, who showed a fake picture of Maines and Saddam Hussein at his shows. The ladies didn’t get a measure of revenge until 2006, when they released a Grammy Awards Album of the Year, Taking the Long Way. The album’s most memorable song was “Not Ready to Make Nice,” a rebuke of a mother who would make her daughter hate a perfect stranger. In line at the door, I saw a woman in a black bra top and a cowboy hat practically cackling as she looked at the New York Times app and told a friend, “Talarico is doing it.” This was a Hollywood audience champing at the bit for the Chicks to lead a victory lap. What transpired was a bit of general-interest liberal catharsis, the concert equivalent of “Don’t boo, vote,” the social media platform Bluesky, and a “No Kings” rally all rolled into one. But it was also something specific to this band: the ultimate Texan vindication, which happened to materialize while the Chicks were getting ready backstage. The Chicks had already “won,” in that the world had come back around to them. But on Tuesday, their story became a circle. The band decided this was not a night for subtext. The run of show included the Chicks telling the story of the time they became arguably the most high-profile targets of reactionary cultural conservatism. There was a video presentation and everything, running through various Fox News hits from back in the day about what evil witches they were for opposing the Iraq War. There’s a Texan flavor to that presentation. “We were a little bit insulated at the time from the controversy back in the states,” one of the bandmates told the audience, setting up “Not Ready to Make Nice.” (I believe this was Maines talking, but here you get the uncertainty that comes with being in a dark, crowded auditorium as you drink a Lagunitas.) “When we got home, we had to go to Texas. That was a long time ago, but it was a scary proposition. I think when it happened, we were a little bit going through the stages of grief. It was shock, and then we were sad, but by the time we got home, we were mad, and we knew we had to put it into songs.” Then they played the most widely acclaimed of those songs, the one about their many conservative haters. The Chicks sprinkled standard resistance liberalism throughout the program. Maines (I think) said that until a few weeks ago, they’d been light on hope, before making a trip to the Obama Presidential Center and getting “a reminder that the country can be led by someone who’s not a deranged [something].” (I’m almost certain the last word was “lunatic, but my notetaking got shoddy.) Later, we were told that the Chicks had an awesome time with the audience, “and our country’s had an awesome time tonight, not just because the prednisone did its job but because we won all those elections.” There were Civil Rights Movement clips playing in the background for some of the show. It was the Texas stuff, though, that the band came back to the most. “Tonight we got some hope, Maines said. “Gina Hinojosa. James Talarico.” (Talarico appeared onstage with the band last month.) Giving some background ahead of the song “Lubbock or Leave It,” Maines talked about how she loved her hometown in West Texas until she left it. Some lyrics: I hear they hate me now Just like they hated you Maybe when I’m dead and gone I’m gonna get a statue too The only specific candidates the Chicks talked about were the two who had just become the state’s first Latina governor and the first candidate to win a Senate race since 1998—multiple times, each. The Chicks care about where they’re from but also must have recoiled at the shape of this campaign season in Texas, specifically in that the Republican argument was all culture war, all the time. The best Paxton’s camp could come up with against Talarico was that he was a gay freak who would turn your kids trans. A candidate for railroad commissioner, Bo French, made national news when he posted a “Great Replacement” theory tweet about South Asian students enjoying a Longhorns football win. He lost. For several generations, Texas Republicans made hay out of painting their political opponents as beyond-the-pale sideshows. The Chicks had escaped that designation a few decades ago by the time they were doing this show. They had been making references to high gas prices in other stops on this tour. But this was the first time Maines could blurt out in the middle of that bit, “And Talarico won.” California Democrats Music Texas Country Music