Strait draws on resolve to power concert at MGM Grand

It was a false dichotomy from a true cowboy.

“I ain’t here for a long time,” George Strait sang at the MGM Grand Garden Arena on Saturday, his mere presence calling his words into question. “I’m here for a good time.”

Clearly, though, there’s never been a pressing need to choose between longevity and revelry for a man more than three decades into one of country music’s definitive careers.

This wasn’t the only moment in the tune where Strait played it not-so-straight.

“Don’t think for a minute that I am gonna sit around and sing some old sad song,” he announced.

Say what?

This from a singer who has given voice to some of the greatest sad songs to ever water down a Budweiser with suddenly leaky eyes.

But, then again, Strait’s used to having it both ways, having built a repertoire of honky-tonk jukebox staples out of the practice.

He’s defined himself by delicately balancing apparent contradictions — country western traditionalism and the more radio-friendly, pop-oriented sounds of contemporary Nashville, Tenn., which Strait was instrumental in helping to establish with his slickly produced albums beginning in the early ’80s.

He conveys big emotions with small gestures (a momentary closing of the eyes, a barely noticeable swishing of the hips), major heartache with minor inflections of his warm, wrinkle-free baritone singing voice, and recalls drunken nights with sober poise.

He is the most unassuming superstar to ever be able to sell out stadiums, a singer whose catalog is far more quiet than loud and who can somehow incite crowds of tens of thousands to near hysteria with songs posited on subtlety and understatement.

Long one of the world’s top-grossing concert draws, Strait’s retiring from the road after his “The Cowboy Rides Away Tour” ends in June.

He will still release new music and play some shows, hinting that his annual Super Bowl eve concert here in Las Vegas, which he’s been playing for years now, could be among them.

“I’m not quittin’ completely. I’m still doin’ a few things,” he noted between songs on Saturday. “This might be one of ’em.”

Still, the passing of the time, the steady, deliberate movement of all things toward their eventual conclusion, figured prominently in Strait’s performance.

Two songs into his 140-minute set on Saturday, Strait played “Check Yes or No,” a sweet, tender waltz about a childhood romance that blossoms into a lifelong commitment.

Two hours later, he performed the mandolin-enhanced “I Got A Car” from his latest album, “Love is Everything,” which similarly chronicles a seat-of-the-pants relationship that lasts from youthful abandon to parenthood and beyond.

In a way, the songs brought the show full circle, the same arc that this tour is following, as Strait looks back on his career the same way that the protagonists of those tunes reminisce about their lives.

As such, there was both a wistfulness and a steely sort of resolve palpable in songs like “Troubadour” (“I was a young troubadour when I wrote in on a song, and I’ll be an old troubadour when I’m gone”) and career retrospective “I’ll Always Remember You.”

Backed by his peerless, 11-piece Ace in the Hole band, Strait soaked in the moment like weary muscles absorbing a hot bath, his smile and belt buckle gleaming as he ambled from one mic to the next on a square stage placed in the center of the arena, facing a different section of the crowd every few songs.

Strait and the sizable collection of musicians around him all exuded a casual, offhand mastery of their craft. The Ace in the Hole Band, tight as a roped calf, is all about attention to detail and accents. They add depth and nuance to Strait’s songs while seldom peacocking, save for a rambunctious take on Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues,” played during the encore, where nearly every member of the band took a solo turn.

There were other brief moments of bombast, such as when show opener Miranda Lambert joined Strait for “How ‘Bout Them Cowgirls” or during the hot-under-the-collar honky-tonk of “80 Proof Bottle of Tear Stopper.”

Mostly, though, this was a night given to couples clasping one another in their arms as Strait distilled longing and yearning in their purest forms on ballads like “Marina Del Ray,” “Easy Come, Easy Go,” “You Look So Good in Love” and half a dozen others.

So many of Strait’s songs revolved around reflection, that it was only a matter of time before he turned his attention to his own career, which he did on “I’ll Always Remember You,” pondering his life away from the stage.

“I still hear your screams and cheers in my mind,” he told the crowd members as they screamed and cheered on cue, not ready to be relegated to memory quite yet.

Just like the cowboy before them.