Vince Gill gets his way: 4CDs - and not all country

Vince Gill was tired, in his words, of being a ``hood ornament."

The 49-year-old country star had built a hugely successful career in Nashville by being both talented and accessible. But following the middling success of his 2003 album ``Next Big Thing" he grew tired of the machinations of stardom: shooting videos, signing autographs, worrying about radio hits, hosting awards shows, and generally serving as the happy face of the country-music industry.

Enter Eric Clapton. The veteran British guitarist may not be an actual god, but an invitation he extended to Gill to participate in the 2004 ``Crossroads Guitar Festival" in Dallas, proved to be a divine intervention.

Gill credits Clapton's invitation -- and the subsequent jam of a lifetime with revered guitarists like B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Carlos Santana , and Clapton himself -- with reawakening his inner musician and inspiring his quadruple album ``These Days," due out Tuesday .

It wasn't that the long, tall Oklahoman -- who plays guitar with devilish fire and sings in an aching crystalline tenor -- didn't enjoy all of the duties required of his career. But in late summer 2005, on a ``Crossroads"-fueled creative roll, he wanted to dig a little deeper.

So Gill laid aside his golf clubs ( he's a 1 handicap) and went into the studio to record songs without regard for commercial appeal, length, or even the label of contemporary country music. That last is no small matter since it's the style that has led to his dozens of hits, 18 Country Music Association and 17 Grammy awards , among other accolades.

The 43-song box set of all new material features a cast of dozens and stretches far beyond Nashville in terms of sound and style. ``These Days" is loosely grouped into four flavors: uptempo blues rock (subtitled ``Workin' on a Big Chill"); R&B, jazz, and country ballads (``The Reason Why"); contemporary and traditional country (``Some Things Never Get Old"); and acoustic and bluegrass music (``Little Brother").

As he would record the songs Gill cast the album a bit like a film director, matching singers and instrumentalists to the feel he was loo king to achieve. So a torch ballad naturally lent itself to a duet with Diana Krall, an inspirational number was perfect for wife -- and contemporary Christian star -- Amy Grant, a barn-burning rocker meant flipping the Rolodex to C for Rodney Crowell.

The list went on to include Sheryl Crow, Bonnie Raitt, LeAnn Rimes, his 24-year-old daughter Jenny, and instrumentalists such as Del McCoury, among others.

``I didn't plan this, it just happened," says Gill with a helpless laugh from his Nashville home. ``There was a great freedom, a great creativity with all of the musicians and I said `Hey , let's try this song, it's kind of quirky and weird, and then try this one , it's real traditional.' And everybody was game for whatever and we just stayed in the studio."

When he looked up from the mixing board he had 31 stylistically divergent songs, enough for three albums, and realized he might have a small problem on his hands. For financial reasons country records traditionally have no more than 11 tracks. Not wanting to kill 20 of his creations he went to MCA Nashville CEO Luke Lewis and asked about releasing them subsequently over one year like the Beatles used to .

Lewis stunned him with a counteroffer: keep recording, and the label would box it all up in one package.

Of course the irony of why he was afforded this luxury -- one previously given only to Johnny Cash -- is not lost on Gill. ``You have to be a good hood ornament before you can pick the other part of the car that you want to be," he says.

Because of his gifts, Gill says for years fans, industry types, and other musicians would ask why he didn't branch out and make a jazz , pop , or even instrumental album. He had sung in the pop-country group Pure Prairie League in the late '70s and early '80s, been offered a spot in Dire Straits in the '90s, and held his own with legends of all stripes in the studio and onstage for decades.

SAMPLE VINCE GILL Check out audio clips at boston.com/clips.

Normally satisfied with having a pinch of everything on his records, Gill started to want to set a single mood on each record in the box set, and the mood wasn't always right for the honky-tonk. And it is the biggest stretches on ``These Days" -- that jazz duet with Krall and the fleet bluegrass number with McCoury -- of which Gill is most proud.

``It doesn't sound like a country singer trying to be a bluegrass singer, it doesn't sound like a country singer trying to be a jazz singer," he explains. ``It's just a piece of something I love and a piece that I feel like I can do authentically."

While Gill's reputation as a gifted guitarist and harmony singer has made him a highly sought after collaborator, he is almost as well known for his goofball, good-natured, golf-guy persona.

It was on display for 11 straight years as host of the CMAs and in a notorious 2004 Notorious Cherry Bombs video in which the 6-foot-3 singer hilariously portrayed a nagging housewife. That image has perhaps kept him from being held in the highest artistic esteem.

``These Days" just might change all that.

``I hope for Vince's sake it does," says Crowell, who's known Gill for nearly 30 years and played with him in the original Cherry Bombs in the '70s and the Notorious version a couple of years back. ``I'm a little bit cynical about popular culture recognizing anything that at its heart is motivated by this real need to make an artistic statement. It seems like our culture feeds off of money and not art."

It's rare that you'll hear a record company CEO say these next few words, but as Lewis maintains, ``Sometimes it's not about money."

``The honest to God blessing for me is to be able to work with artists like [Gill], who you can set free and say, `Look I don't need a hit single, I can sell enough records that on a business level that this will work without one.' A lot of times that's where the best music comes from," Lewis adds. ``We're probably going to wind up with a big hit."

Hit or miss, Gill is just happy to be off the hood, behind the steering wheel, and investigating any side road that he fancies.

``To me the pressure's off," he says. ``All I'm trying to do is be musical."

That attitude extends to the tour, which comes to Mechanics Hall in Worcester Thursday. Gill is pressing into action 16 musicians, including his regular band, a horn section , and background singers to play in different groupings a portion of each new album, bookended by his familiar hits.

By the finale, which Gill jokingly calls ``the big rave all skate" he hopes people leave feeling ``like you've been to a tent revival."

Or precisely how he felt leaving that ``Crossroads" festival.

Sarah Rodman can be reached at srodman@globe.com.