POP MUSIC REVIEW : Show Is Short but Still Too Milsappy : Country singer has a fine voice but never connects with real emotion at Crazy Horse Steak House concert.

It can only be a country show when the song titles are as long as “Are You Lovin’ Me Like I’m Lovin’ You” and “What a Difference You’ve Made in My Life.” And it is even more obviously a Ronnie Milsap show when the pat, medley-ized versions of such songs are scarcely longer than their titles.

Even in such skimpy portions as Milsap was vending at the Crazy Horse Steak House and Saloon on Monday evening, many of his syrupy musical snow cones melted to goop long before they were finished. The veteran singer-pianist is a polished tunesmith and gifted performer, but sadly he applied his talents to a show so calculated and slick that there was nary an instant of emotion to it.

Milsap’s brand of country crosses over so far toward pop that he can more easily be likened to Lionel Richie than to anyone with a twang in his heart. But far more grievous than his diluting the style of the music is the way Milsap ignores country’s great capacity for personal expression. A Merle Haggard or Willie Nelson can turn a country song into a page of autobiography, reaching far inside to come up with truths common to the human condition. (Like that record Willie did with Julio, Jim? No, but cut the guy some slack, ok? The IRS just sold his golf course.)

Milsap, rather, writes songs as if he’s gluing a model together, and not even a cool model like a Weirdo character or a ’64 Barracuda, but something stolid like a ’73 Belvedere. He gets all the pieces in place, and there’s lots of chrome, but there’s hardly a spark of life there.

Again, from a purely technical standpoint, Milsap can at times be an effective pops-meister. Sure, his “Back on My Mind Again” is such an obvious steal from Ringo’s “Octopus’ Garden” that they could probably do us all a favor and spend the next few years locked in a courtroom. But Milsap’s bouncy “Button of My Shirt” could bear comparison to some of 10cc’s crafty constructions, and one almost could imagine Michael Stipe intoning the moody “Smoky Mountain Rain.”

Milsap’s fine, wide-ranged voice might be an expressive marvel if he ever connected with a real emotion. But all he gave Monday was a rote, frictionless hour of hits, oldies and time-worn jokes about his blindness. Matching that, his tight eight-piece band generally looked so thoroughly disinterested it might as well have been working at a lathe.

Instead of delving far into his new album, Milsap gave a performance that was little different from one he gave at the Crazy Horse 18 months ago, except that perhaps it was shorter. He concluded with the same tired medley of piano-based rock oldies he’s used for years and refused to return for an encore. With a $33.50 ticket and a show that was barely an hour long, this left even hard-core fans feeling shorted.