Q&A Joe Nichols — as honest as his music Q&A

Joe Nichols has been in the music business for just over a decade, and it’s been a fascinating ride.

The singer/songwriter and Arkansas native with the bourbon-smooth baritone first earned recognition with the 2003 single Brokenheartsville, and toured with icons such as Alan Jackson, performed at the Grand Ole Opry and racked up a few industry awards. His fourth studio album, Real Things, was one of 2007’s best country records — an achievement slightly marred by his brief trip to rehab in October.

Now clean, sober and ready to hit the road in support of Real Things, the unfailingly polite and unflinchingly honest Nichols checked in while driving around Nashville — he paused mid-interview to order an iced coffee; “It’s been a long day,” he explained — to discuss the current state of country music, its impact on his life and the lives of others as well as his surreal experiences performing at Mexia native Anna Nicole Smith’s funeral.

Do you feel like country music is losing its way, forgetting its roots and splintering into different camps?

It’s always been polarized. I think more nowadays, people are — how should I put this without offending everyone? — respectful of the history of country music because they feel like they have to be. I guess that’s good, but I don’t know that the passion for what’s been done before [is] necessarily going on…. That’s great that people feel like they have to do that, but it’s also about [as fake as] I can imagine someone getting.

As an artist, do you wrestle with that dichotomy in the studio?

I shut everything out. The minute we start thinking about what everybody else is doing or saying or thinking, that’s when we lose our touch, we lose the magic. I think the more we lock ourselves in, the more we isolate ourselves to what we think is best for us. For me musically, I think that’s when we have magic. That’s what we did with Real Things. We put together what we thought was gonna be a great album, regardless of when we released it.

Real Things just gets richer the more time you spend with it — is it gratifying to have people poring over your work?

The most critical and nerve-racking time of an album is the time you’re done with the production of it and from that time to when the first person outside your camp hears it — that’s the most mysterious time of the whole process. When I hear people really get into this album and talk about it being one of their favorites, it’s almost like we breathe at that moment. We don’t go into production trying to please everyone, but when we come out of production, we sure as hell try to please everyone.

Your music has touched a lot of people, including the late Anna Nicole Smith. Talk about playing at her funeral.

What I honestly thought was, “Surely I’m not their first option.” I mean that with all due respect, I didn’t mean, “Oh God, I don’t wanna do this.” It was a circus, a media nightmare. I kept watching the people around the situation. … I grew more and more sickened. I thought it was a disgusting act, what people were doing around her death. She deserved to be respected after she was gone. Going [to] the Bahamas, I made it a point to tell everyone involved, “Not one person speaks to the press, because this is not about us. This is about paying respect to a woman that’s passed away.”

Did all of that serve as a kind of cautionary tale?

I cannot say my whole life has been 100 percent class, I’ve had my lesser moments, I think everybody has. But my goal has always been, will always be, to try and act in a classy way. I’m sure with the rehab stuff, there’s been a lot of stories or rumors or whatever and that’s gonna happen, but the one thing I’ve always tried to maintain [is] a classy outlook…. It’s a horrible prison to live in, like Britney Spears, there’s no right move no matter what you do. It’s a never-ending cycle of drama.

What do you hope people get out of your music?

There’s a real bold line between what I want people to get out of my music and what I want people to get out of my life. What I want people to get out of my music is to feel. Sad, bad, happy, miserable, whatever — I want people to feel and I want people to use music as therapy. I know I have in my life, and it’s been more productive therapy than any money could buy.

Joe Nichols

10:30 p.m. Saturday

Billy Bob’s Texas,

Fort Worth

$12-$22

972-647-5700 www.ticketmaster.com