Striding out onto the stage at the Great Northern Bar and Grill last weekend, acclaimed singer-songwriter James McMurtry launched right into “For All I Know,” letting his lyrics do the talking for him.

The veteran musician, who rolled through Whitefish on Oct. 22, comes across as unassuming rather than aloof or haughty. Bedecked in glasses framed by the ringlets of graying curls spilling out from under a brimmed black hat, McMurtry seemed as curious about his audience as they were enthralled by him.

“For All I Know,” off of McMurtry’s 1997 album “It Had to Happen,” opens with a jaunty electric guitar riff accompanied by a bright, uptempo beat that offset a tale of a romance dead before it ever began and its resultant heartache. Ache is a familiar theme in McMurtry’s oeuvre, the type of hurt that comes with living long enough to have made a few mistakes, earned a scar or two and found at least one regret worth ruminating over in the middle of the night.

Though no slouch as a musician or performer, McMurtry earns his fiercest praise for his lyrics. And not for nothing. In song after song, McMurtry, the son of prolific author Larry McMurtry, proves that he has taken the old writer’s adage “show, don’t tell” to heart.

Even live, McMurtry’s lyrics ring out louder than his guitar. Deep into his set, McMurtry trots out “No More Buffalo,” a doleful track from the same album as “For All I Know.” In a slightly wavering voice, he looks back on a life spent chasing a dream, mostly unsuccessfully, using figurative language to suggest just how much gas the protagonist has left in the tank: “No more buffalo, blue skies or open road/ No more rodeo for this old boy/ Take my Cadillac park it out in back/ Mama's calling, put away the toys.”

McMurtry’s latest album “The Horses and the Hounds” is in keeping with his style of storytelling, creating whole lives out of a few verses. The 2021 release is ostensibly the reason for his trip through Montana, though he didn’t touch on it until well into his set.

“There’s a rumor going around that we had a record out last year,” he said, slyly. “I’ve heard that record is not bad.”

With that, he rolled into the album’s first track, “Canola Fields,” which follows a man suddenly seeing a “thirty-year crush” blossom. The stripped down opening relies heavily on McMurtry’s distinctive vocals, worn, but warm and familiar, to set the stage for a winter romance. It’s the type of voice perfect for a weekend marked by the first cold rain of autumn.

Drawing further from his latest album, his first in six years, McMurtry performed “Jackie,” “Vaquero” and “If It Don’t Bleed,” the last seemingly an ode to living on your own terms with a chorus worthy of Tom Petty.

But he happily delved deep into his discography, including the foot stomping “Choctaw Bingo,” a rousing tune with a driving rhythm that brings to mind the frenetic energy of Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues.” For the fans jammed into the Great Northern’s concert hall, the rendition proved a highlight. Barstools hidden from the staff suddenly resurfaced, used as platforms to better view the stage. Others clamored up on the tables running along the wall to sway along. Phones rose up in the air in an attempt to capture the moment for posterity.

Throughout, McMurtry peered at the audience, squinting at times, underneath the brim of his hat. He offered brief introductions to his work and tossed out a few anecdotes. “Copper Canteen,” the leadoff track from his 2015 album “Complicated Game” earned him a writeup in the New York Times a few years back, he noted.

Finishing up with “Too Long In The Wasteland,” which harkens back to his 1989 album of the same name, he finally offered the crowd a quick, warm smile and a tip of the hat before dipping off the stage with as little fanfare as he appeared.

News Editor Derrick Perkins can be reached at 758-4430 or [email protected].