The Chicks’ two singles from the album, the title track and “March March,” envelop one in their up-tempo; the former with its bop-y, almost playful drums, and the latter with its dramatic, synth-y waterdrop effect that makes one forget its call to arms intent. They burst through with vigor and the promise of an energizing re-invention.
Instead, the 12 tracks are a deconstruction and reconstruction of emotions that sometimes drag with its quiet, ballad-heavy set. It will save many broken hearts along the way, taking this country theme to a new, almost quantum level. The Jack Antonoff-produced record’s low key instrumentals — lots of strings in “Tights on My Boat,” “Young Man” and “Set Me Free,” banjos in “Sleep at Night,” the touch of the violin in “Julianna Calm Down,” a dash of church organ in “My Best Friend’s Weddings” — and stripped down vocals make for a curious Schrödinger’s cat of a record. For the most part, the feelings of the lyrics are tampered down by the music: the anger is there but it’s not there, the sadness is there but it’s not there. The Chicks have worn their heart on the sleeve, but they’re afraid to move on and have fun.
After all, they’ve all been burned before.