Not a cheep from the Chicks

The Texan gals play flawlessly - but were so much better when they were angry

Dixie Chicks
Royal Albert Hall, London SW7

Natalie Maines, the petite lead singer of the Dixie Chicks, is wearing a fuchsia pink jacket, a T-shirt that reads 'Livin' Doll', a very short skirt and skintight, thigh-high stiletto boots. She looks like a teenager trying to get served in a bar rather than a hate figure to thousands of pro-war Americans.

Flanked by sisters Emily Robison (on banjo, mostly, and demure in sporty black) and Martie Maguire (on fiddle, mostly, but looking like one of Girls Aloud), and backed by a dozen musicians, Maines's diminutive size is in inverse proportion to her big brassy voice - and the influence she has recently exerted on American hearts and minds.

She is the mouse that roared, landing the Texan trio in bother last time they played in London. The tale of their recent troubles would make quite a ballad, having held fans and casual observers rapt for the past six months. It goes something like this: on the eve of hostilities in Iraq in March, Maines declared she was ashamed that George W. Bush came from Texas. It played to big cheers in London but went down like a weapon of mass destruction in the American heartland. A boycott organised by country radio stations owned by the Clear Channel company - donors to the Republican Party - removed Dixie Chicks songs from the air.

Other radio stations held mass crushings of their CDs. Robison's ranch was vandalised. Their multi-platinum career was on the line; they even received death threats. This, despite a single 'Travelin' Soldier' (received rapturously tonight), appealing directly to a nation whose sons and daughters were off fighting on foreign soil.

After a half-hearted apology in which Maines regretted her lack of respect for the President, the Chicks rallied. They defended their right to freedom of speech, earning them roughly as much support as they had lost. Bruce Springsteen, among others, declared his solidarity. Judging from recent interviews, it appears the experience has radicalised them. Their US gigs this summer have featured backdrop footage of equal rights protests, Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, and the words 'truth', 'speak up', 'listen' and 'freedom'.

Emily Robison told a German newspaper she thought Arnold Schwarzenegger's bid to become Governor of California was 'absolutely insane'. 'America should be governed by people who have a clue,' she added. 'I hope he doesn't win.'

Onstage tonight, though, the Chicks laugh off the entire episode. 'Last time we were here, the war was weighing heavy on our minds,' Maines announces coquettishly. 'This time it's J-Lo and Ben.' There are jeers and shouts, however, and one man even tussles with security at the side of the stage. It's hard to tell for sure, but it just seems that his side of the Albert Hall are complaining because they can't hear the PA very well.

Maines introduces the poignant 'Truth No 2 with a speech about how angrily she sings it in America. It goes: 'You don't like the sound of the truth coming outta my mouth.' It's a shame she doesn't sing it more angrily tonight, because the Chicks are far better when they're riled. As it is, they just air their hits as though nothing important has happened. It's one thing when Damon Albarn shoots his mouth off about the war, quite another when mainstream, commercial artists like the Dixie Chicks do so with such aplomb. And they won, too: Chicks gigs and albums continue to sell, despite the furore.

Presumably they feel they are among friends tonight and don't need to preach to the converted. They've left their protest backdrop behind; in its place is a lovely Japanese-style floral print curtain. But this feeling of business as usual, reinforced by the fact that their former nemesis Clear Channel is promoting this gig, is a let-down. They cover Bob Dylan's 'Mississippi', but it's hardly a statement.

Instead, there is their back catalogue of glossy country pop - oodles and oodles of it. The playing is masterful, if unsubtle, and the harmonising flawless. At one point, there are eight guitars of one sort or another onstage, including lap steel - nine, if you count the double-necked electric.

This is all fine when the Chicks play breakneck bluegrass songs like 'White Trash Wedding', where the musicianship is genuinely exciting. It's less remarkable when all their efforts add up to the soundtrack of a line dancing exercise class.

Songs like 'Long Time Gone' have their country charms, and 'Landslide' is a tender, downbeat respite from all the frenzied strumming. But, more often, the relentless cheer of their music becomes tedious.

Having been through hard times, you'd love to hear some vulnerability or heartfelt emotion from Maines and her fellow Chicks, rather than these blandishments. As it is, they seem happy to return to being a big band of little import.

Three to see

50 Cent
Wembley Arena (Thurs), Belfast King's Hall (Sun) Bullet-scarred multi-million seller embarks on first UK tour. Expect hits and huge entourage.

Birmingham Academy (Mon), Leeds University (Tues), Nottingham Rock City (Wed), Cambridge Corn Exchange (Fri)
Fresh from working with Phil Spector, the indie likely lads promote their second album.

ICA, London SW1 (Fri & Sat)
Britpop pioneers play first dates since their triumph at Glastonbury.

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