POP MUSIC REVIEW : Owens Bucks Hard, Long at Crazy Horse

Old dogs might not learn new tricks, but Monday at the Crazy Horse Steak House, Buck Owens proved that his old tricks are still fresh enough to keep generations of younger pups yapping at his heels.

The 61-year-old legend first upset country music’s status quo more than 30 years ago with his hard-driving Bakersfield Sound, and that drive was undiminished in a two-hour, 32-song spree that featured assists from Owens devotees Dwight Yoakam and the Desert Rose Band’s Herb Pedersen.

Backed by his current Buckaroos--20-year-plus veterans Doyle Curtsinger on bass, Terry Christoffersen on guitar and pedal steel and Jim Shaw on keyboards, with newer recruit Jim McCarty at the drums--Owens jumped right in with his 1963 hit “Act Naturally,” which the Beatles covered and last year Buck reprised on a duet with Ringo Starr.

An overwhelming number of classic songs in his set included “Together Again,” “Crying Time,” “I’ve Got a Tiger by the Tail,” “Love’s Gonna Live Here” (which he announced he’s recently re-recorded with George Jones) and “Excuse Me (I Think I’ve Got a Heartache).” It’s a sign of the mark Owens has left in country music that he could have made up an equally powerful set from the hits he didn’t include.

It was Yoakam who urged Owens out of a self-imposed retirement three years ago, and while Owens has influenced any number of young tradition-respecting musicians, the link with Yoakam seems especially close. When trading songs Monday, the sense of continuum from Owens’ work to the younger singer’s was so strong that one could imagine that the decades of treacly crossover country separating their efforts had never occurred.

Yoakam appears so country-chic--he sported an American Indian blanket long coat and his signature hole-in-the-knees jeans on this occasion--that he can seem aloof at times. But his affection for Owens clearly sparked his playful side. Each engaged in some good-natured ribbing: Yoakam chastised Owens for exploiting his workers (he heads a respectable business empire) and at one point mimicked Owens’ singing style, chewing each note of a song as if it were a stick of gum; Owens responded by making bored, comic faces while Yoakam sang.

For all the kidding, the pair ramrodded through “Truck Drivin’ Man,” “The Streets of Bakersfield” and others tunes with a joyous abandon.

Owens was no less spirited on his own, giving a feeling-drenched vocal to the barroom weeper “A-11,” and rocking through his 1956 “Hot Dog” and a flock of Chuck Berry tunes. He performed three songs from the current “Kickin’ In” album, including the remake of his beautiful “All the Tea in China.”

Merle Haggard’s music may be furrowed and creased with a more singular artistry, but such Owens songs convey the equally special quality of a front-porch commiseration with a close friend. There aren’t many performers (J. J. Cale comes to mind) who can seem so at ease while delivering the emotional goods.

It’s also possible that Owens is more at ease at the Crazy Horse than at other venues: He claimed during the show that the club is the best place he’s played. Later in the show, Crazy Horse managing owner Fred Reiser came on stage to make a presentation. “I’m not Dwight Yoakam. . . .,” Reiser began, as Owens cut him off to quip, “Yeah, but you’ve got some knees in your pants, though.”

The club owner carried a guitar, raising hopes that this would mark the debut of Reiser’s singing voice. Instead, the club gave Owens the six-string as a gift, a custom-made red, white and blue G & L model built by Orange County electric-guitar pioneer Leo Fender, whose instruments enabled Owens and countless others to create their music decades ago.

Joining voices with Pedersen on a six-song encore, Owens went back to the dance-hall roots of his rhythm-based music by having the audience push the club’s tables and chairs aside to make a dance floor.

As two-stepping couples crowded in front of the stage, he closed out the evening with “Hello Trouble,” “Foolin’ Around,” “I Don’t Care (Just as Long as You Love Me)” and other songs that, like Owens, just keep going like a stretch of desert highway.