By Mike Bell, Calgary Herald

It’s difficult not to wonder if our prime minister didn’t feel something of a chill running down his spine on Thursday evening.

It’s hard not to imagine him feeling goosebumps, wondering if there were some dark forces surrounding him, some spooks other than those with the sunglasses and earpieces that follow him everywhere, some angry spirits rattling around the place he’ll call home this weekend, the Stampede grounds, where his party will convene, and some supporters fear his political career could be laid to rest.

He was, after all, right next door to a house that was being haunted by the ghosts of left leaning political outrage past.

Yes, in a rather delicious, caramel-covered confluence of events, American country act and admirable rabble-rousers the Dixie Chicks were booked for their July makeup date in the Dome on the very night that the Conservative Party of Canada was kicking off its convention within admonishing distance.

A nightmare? Nah.

No matter what your affiliation, whatever costumed clown you choose to back when the lights come on in that voting booth, pretty much all parties could agree that the Texas trio’s concert was a well-timed, Halloween treat. Even musical parties.

In the midst of a barrage of big-time, big-name, all-male new western acts ambling through town — the Aldeans, the Paisleys, the Browns — it was nice to have a reminder that, as with the left and right, there is one act that can bring the camps of classic and contemporary country together.

The show that Natalie Maines, Emily Robison, Martie Maguire and their creepily great band put on Thursday night was a pretty exceptional marriage of the two, displaying both progressive and retro leanings in performance and presentation, often at the same time.

The stage set up, for example, employed the lights and big screens all Dome shows do, but certainly didn’t rely on them nor pull out any unnecessary gimmicks. They were merely enhancers not overwhelmers.

And musically, sure, you could say that their a little more liberal with their use of pop and rock methods than actual traditional C&W sounds, but there was enough fiddle and banjo and geetar in the mix to tweak any twang lover that was present.

And for the material, which was presented, as frontwoman Maines — herself, in fine voice and looking more like Tegan and Sara’s lost triplet than an Opry star — explained early into the evening, in chronological order, was also a pretty exceptional mix of the past and the future of the music. It travelled from the back roads of their 1998 major-label debut Wide Open Spaces to their last band studio release Taking the Long Way, and it did so with ease. From I Can Love You Better and You Were Mine, both pretty great updates of the girl-done-wrong and heartbreak songs, to the Thelma and Louise-era murder ballad Goodbye Earl, the rock on the wild child song Sin Wagon and their personal and artistic statement/anthems The Long Way Around and Not Ready to Make Nice, the Chicks showed their reverence for country music is just as strong as their desire to take it further.

It doesn’t have to pander, it just has to be good, played well and put forth in an entertaining but not overly showy way.

And that also summed up their onstage band persona, which was professional and polished but still with room for personality and improv. The latter came from the atypically typical acknowledgment of the local floods ("You look all dried out, your hair looks back to normal, you’re looking good," said Maines) and then a mid-set pumpkin judging contest with the winner, of course, being one with the Maple Leaf and an "Eh" carved into it.

Oh, and for those wondering, perhaps the only overtly political moment of their set was when Maines announced early on that, "tonight’s show is gluten free." Which was fine. At least it wasn’t made with Aspartame.

As for opener Charlie Mars, he couldn’t have been a better, bite-sized sugar-rush to unwrap as the evening began. The Mississippi singer-songwriter door-knocked his way into the enjoyment of the evening with a set that was a masterful display of charm and musicianship. It really is a daunting task for anyone to take the Dome stage as an opening act, let alone one who, for the most part, goes it entirely solo, with only his material, his easy and likable demeanour and quick wit.

But, as he did the last time he graced the arena’s stage as the warm-up for R.E.M. during their tour a decade ago, Mars faced the challenge head on. He didn’t try to fight it, didn’t attempt to rail against it, instead acknowledged he was going it alone and needed a little help from the early arrivals.

He spent almost as much time during his woefully short set telling stories and encouraging the crowd to play, clap and sing along as he did actually performing. (That even includes the one-song participatory encore he had during the headliners’ show.) Which was entirely fine — remarkably so.

From his tale of being trapped into writing a friend’s wedding song, which led into the gorgeous track I Do, I Do, to Meet Me By the Backdoor, which he performed with a little help from Dixie Chicks keyboardist John Ginty and some audience participation, after setting up his cellphone to record it for a friend who didn’t believe anyone in Calgary even knew who Mars was.

If they didn’t they now should. Here’s hoping the next time he comes around it’s not just for a quick bell-ring and candy transaction but for something a little more substantial.

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