POP MUSIC REVIEW : Conlee’s Beefy Voice Is Something to Feast on : The stocky singer, a champion of the common man, serves up a strong, unadorned show at the Crazy Horse Steak House, where the fare is simple but sincere.

It’s appropriate that John Conlee performs at the Crazy Horse Steak House when he tours. Not only is he a solid country performer, but he’s also got a voice that’s a lot like a steak--big, basic and, of course, beefy.

The stocky singer serves his songs up unadorned by finesse or variation. He has a limited range and does little to set one tune apart form another with changes in dynamics or inflection. But who wants to mess up a good steak with anything fancy?

Conlee refers to himself as a singer for the common man, and he treats that role with respect. In his 70-minute show Monday, his singing projected a warmth and concern for the simple things he sings of.

A former undertaker and radio station disc jockey (kind of the same thing these days), Conlee was born on a family farm, and lives on one himself when he’s not touring. He’s been active in Farm Aid, speaking eloquently to a U.S. Senate committee in 1985 on the dangers of letting huge corporations control agriculture. He’s active in other charities aiding working folks, and even collects money onstage nightly for Feed the Children.

That practice started, he explained, when he began performing Ray Charles’ “Busted” a few years ago and fans started throwing money on the stage, totaling $60 the first time it happened.

Conlee himself has had easier times. After moving from MCA Records to Columbia to the minor-league 16th Avenue label in recent years, he presently has no recording contract now that 16th Avenue has folded.

But he and his five-piece band, Carolina Fever, were anything but down in the dumps. Between songs they indulged in good-natured joshing, and during the songs they were all business. Conlee has a big, brimming-over quality to his voice that suggests a bit of the Fabulous Thunderbirds’ Kim Wilson and the little-heard Louisiana country singing wonder Johnny Allen, though Conlee’s is more limited in range and not nearly as expressive as either of those men.

He applied that voice to nearly half the hits from his 15-year career, including his signature song “Rose Colored Glasses,” “Lady Lay Down,” “Common Man,” “Busted,” “The Backside of Thirty,” “Miss Emily’s Picture,” and his most recent effort, “I’m in the Doghouse.”

“Friday Night Blues” detailed a working-class dilemma of the exhausted husband coming home from work to his housewife who wants to go out on the town: “When he’s taking his shoes off she’s putting hers on.” Given the plight of so many families in which both spouses work, Conlee might consider updating the song.

One of his strongest vocals came on his 1985 hit “The Old School” in which the singer turns down an old school flame’s invitation to adultery, explaining that he’s really from the old school. Conlee likes the song, he explained later in the show, because “it makes the point that us hairy-legged old guys have the power to say no now and again.” On a more comic note, it slowly emerges that jilted love has placed the narrator of his “I Don’t Remember Loving You” in the nut house.

Conlee closed his set with a version of Mickey Newbury’s “An American Trilogy,” comprising the Civil War-era tunes “Dixie,” “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” and “All My Trials.” While not wresting the medley from Elvis Presley’s firm grasp, he gave it a forceful, passionate reading that led to an encore call. When the audience subsequently called him back to the stage for yet another encore, the surprised singer said, “Thank you, or is this just a plot to keep me from having that cigarette?”