FOR WILLIAMS, THE EMOTION RUNS DEEP

In the summer of 1953, when Don Williams was 14, his sweetheart of the time inadvertently set him on a course he’s been pursuing for 32 years.

By breaking up with him, that anonymous girlfriend sparked such feelings in the young singer/songwriter that he sat down and penned “Walk It Off,” his first song, to try to exorcise the pain.

“I remember feeling particularly bad--bad enough that I had to share this heartache with someone very personally,” recalled Williams, who is performing tonight at the Greek Theatre. “It’s been like that for me for the rest of the time since--working off the feelings, both mine and other peoples’. ‘Course, that includes good feelings, too.”

In his pursuit of the emotional connective tissue that binds people together, Williams has kept going back to the guitar, making these ties that bind his primary songwriting concern. His straightforward baritone and spare, direct songs--discussing domestic blues, longing and hard-won optimism--have remained practically constant through Nashville’s stylistic twists.

“It’s just a matter of staying true to myself,” Williams commented during a phone interview from Russellville, Ark. “I think it’s a lot more important not to pin too much attention on what other people think about you. When you start doing that, then you start losing the sincerity you started out with--which, in my business, is a pretty darn important thing to keep.”

Holding onto that sincerity has meant, for Williams, eschewing a more easily saleable image: the hell-raisin’ good ole boy, the down-and-out piner, the rhinestone cowboy. He says he’s worked hard to “keep (himself) working at what comes natural to me.” One look at his normal show-time apparel--trademark crumpled cavalry hat, well-worn jeans and mother-of-pearl-buttons shirt--would convince anyone of that.

Instead, what absorbs most of the native Texan’s attention--and hard work, both on and off stage--is holding open the line of communication with his audience as clearly and unequivocally as possible. He is not a show-biz watchdog, sniffing the air for change.

“I’m not big on going out and sampling the industry, hitting up all the record salesmen to find out what they think would really work,” Williams explained. “What I’m a lot more interested in is getting what I’m trying to say across to the working people, and when they come up to me after a show or whatever and tell me what’s going on with them, I listen.”

All that disdain for glitz doesn’t prevent Williams from appreciating the recent move toward musical diversity in country, however. He’s an advocate of smashing categorical labeling and appreciating each artist on his or her own merit.

“Other forms of music, like rock ‘n’ roll or classical, haven’t been that confined to one style of music; I don’t see why country should be,” he said. “I think it’s a healthy thing that country’s being kind of rejuvenated with outside influences and some of its old fever. That’s gonna make more people--performers and listeners--pay more attention to what’s being done, rather than just assuming it’s the same old thing.”

But Williams himself has sometimes been tabbed as a conservative, doing “the same old thing”-- his same old thing, granted--for too long now. But he shrugs those charges off with a chuckle.

“To my way of thinking, it depends on the song and how I feel about ‘er,” Williams said. “I don’t think that every song has to have a banjo, or a fiddle, or a saxophone. If the song calls for treatment like that, then that’s fine; that’s the way we’ll do ‘er. But if it don’t, then I don’t push the issue on ‘er. And if that strikes folks as being ‘the same old thing,’ well, that’s what I am, and that spells it out. That’s just how I work. Whatever other folks do, if they’re getting folks excited and it works, I’m all for it.”

These days, Williams said, he’s spending less time keeping his image straight and more time on his 90-acre farm near Nashville with his wife and a “regular zoo” of pets. He’s writing fewer songs, too, he admitted, though he just signed a new recording contract with Capitol Records.

“I’ve been writing quite a bit less these days, and it’s not as if I don’t have the time, because I do. It’s just that, well, songwriting is such a lonely kind of thing to do, and my sons are getting grown up and I like spending time with them and with my friends. So you make your choices, and go with them.”