POP MUSIC REVIEW : Country Style Meets L.A. Style at Irwindale Festival

Country-rock crooner John Anderson, one of the more popular attractions Saturday at the Country Fest ’88 extravaganza in Irwindale, ended his set on the site’s Silver Bullet Stage with an old hit titled “You Can’t Judge a Book by Lookin’ at the Cover”--a maxim that may or may not have been true of the estimated 65,000 fans in attendance.

Certainly, the two-day festival--which spotlighted close to 80 acts on five stages over two days, ranging from Dave Alvin’s new L.A. country to Bill Monroe’s old-time bluegrass--might have tempted curious onlookers to challenge Anderson and succumb to the obvious stereotypes in asking such pressing questions as:

Can you judge a man by the slogan on his T-shirt? (Among the typical legends spotted Saturday: “I’ll push my Harley before I’ll buy a rice burner!” and “I might be drunk, but you’re ugly. . . . Tomorrow I’ll be sober.”)

Can you judge a man by his tattoos? (Lots of patriotic eagles with this element.)

Can you judge a man by his beer belly? (Talk about conspicuous consumption. “I didn’t know it snowed around here,” remarked one out-of-towner to a mounted patrolman about the liberal litter of white beer cups dotting the emptying grounds late in the day.)

And last: Can you judge a man by whether he eats foreign foods?

In mind-set, if not miles, the alternately tranquil and rowdy Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area was as far away from sophisticated, trendy Los Angeles as the South or the Midwest. Yet an onlooker couldn’t help noticing that while so many hamburger stands went unpatronized, the Oriental food concession always seemed to have a line. Yes, Dorothy, we are still in L.A.

A local radio station has an ongoing ad campaign featuring yuppies who tout their conversions from rock ‘n’ roll to country. Hokey as that might seem, Country Fest indeed drew not just yupsters but hipsters into its midst, as well as a plethora of confessed displaced hicks.

“I heard (country music) all my life growing up in Missouri, and while I was there I thought, ‘It’s just (garbage)--my dad listens to it,’ ” said Greg Netzer, 24, who moved to Los Angeles two years ago and now works for an alternative rock record label. “Then I got out here, and a couple of friends started to get me to listen to it, and I thought, ‘Ah, not so bad.’ It’s a whole genre of music a lot of people here just blow off. But it’s every bit as creative and innovative as what most of the (punk-rock) bands put up.”

Netzer was enjoying the early-evening set by Anderson, whose messages were just rebellious enough (“Black Sheep of the Family”) and whose country contained just enough spirited rock to ensure success with the largely young-adult crowd.

In contrast, Eddie Rabbitt--who pulled in an even larger crowd soon after at the Crazy Horse Stage--made do with a slick brand of country-pop dating to (and dated since) the late ‘70s. Defusing the criticism that he’s “not country enough” in this day of new traditionalism, Rabbitt pulled a hat trick by trotting out the reliable “Orange Blossom Special”--a cheap but effective ploy.

But neither Anderson, with his long blond locks, nor Rabbitt, with his dark good looks, managed quite the populist appeal of John Conlee, who rounded out Saturday’s bill at the Silver Bullet Stage. Somewhat portly and not exceptionally gifted as a singer, part-time farmer Conlee looks enough like many of his middle-aged fans to make homey anthems like “Domestic Life” easier to swallow than a more urbanized cowboy might.

Conlee’s set also seemed to draw more of the considerable family crowd, partly because the park’s nearby playground was darkening as the 8 p.m. cutoff time approached, but also because of his older demographic appeal. Introducing the 1979 hit “Back Side of 30,” a charmingly self-deprecating Conlee noted, “I wrote it in ‘76, so any math whiz can figure out that we need to update the song and call it ‘Back Side of 40.’ ”

Which, of course, is not the sort of quip you’re likely to hear from Van Halen’s 40-ish Sammy Hagar during the Monsters of Rock festival tour this summer--another place where folks will be blowing their (book) covers left and right, the difference being, as one fan said, “with country music, it’s not so important that you look good.”