For the past 10 years, Robbie Fulks has been responsible for some of the most interesting, unique and memorable country-based music made. Mixing a biting wit with musical expertise and a love for both the traditional and eccentric, Fulks’ work speaks with both punky irreverence and a troubadour’s sincerity.

In recent times, he has gained press both for his mini-feud with Ryan Adams and for his upcoming album of Michael Jackson songs. As good as his records are, his live shows are perhaps the best display of his unique talents. Fulks returns to Madison this Saturday, Nov. 1, and he recently spoke to The Badger Herald about his past, present and future.

The Badger Herald: Who are your songwriting influences?

Robbie Fulks: I’d point to people who don’t necessarily have anything in common with my perspective or country music, but have real patience with getting the last word right and matching up thoughts with melodies. Anybody from Billy Joe Shaver or Jim Lauderdale to — I hate to sound candy-ass — Paul Simon, who’s really thoughtful.

Lucinda Williams was, until very recently, a real perfectionist, but she’s written some stinkers lately. I guess it’s about anybody who hits you when you’re five or 10. For me, that’s people like Bob Dylan, The Beatles, Roger Miller, Elvis Costello, John Hartford.

BH: You’re one of the many who are described as “alt-country.” What do you think of that term?

RF: I think you’ve got to have some category for people to understand music and for it to be comprehensible. Musicians whine about pigeonholing and categorization constantly, but they use the same designations as everybody else; when they get together with each other and describe records, they use the same sort of words. You’ve got to have them, just to be intelligible on an intellectual level, but it’s such a meaningless term.

I mean, you look at people who’re in that camp, like the people who make the No Depression magazine retail chart — Ricky Skaggs, Dar Williams, Dylan, Gillian Welch, people with nothing in common with each other. It makes sense to use the term when describing myself, I guess. You know, “I’m country but not the horrible stuff you hear on the radio.” That kind of thing.

BH: Your last album, Couples in Trouble, was your most experimental. Is it representative of the direction you’re going?

RF: The next record I’ve got out of the gate is the Michael Jackson record, and I guess it’s continuous with Couples but it’s a little more country-flavored. The one I’m working on right now for after that is hardcore country. The two themes I’ve taken up over the past 10 years are hardcore country and the hybridization of unpredictable sounds, and that’ll probably continue.

BH: What’d you learn from your brief major-label experience?

RF: I came out of it pretty much determined not to do it again. I never say never; if some major [label] offered me a half-million tomorrow, I’d probably do it. But it was basically a wasteful experience, filled with conversations with people who didn’t know about music, trying to make sure you hustle yourself correctly.

There was just so much non-musical effort expended. I now better understand the nature of the thing, but it was hard to get the record made and make any money. So the waste was a bit disheartening. The fact is that it’s just not that hard to make records, so I don’t know why it’s approached that way.

BH: What are your thoughts on downloading?

RF: I think it’s obviously copyright infringement, and it’s equally obvious that it’s not gonna go away. I agree with people that say it’s going to take care of itself; it’ll get better as soon as they figure out a way to exploit it.

I just don’t believe that it’ll replace the social or tactile experiences of going to the store, looking at artwork, comparing with other people. For me at least, I really like to have these experiences, and I don’t think they’ll go away.

BH: You’ve just completed producing a Johnny Paycheck tribute album. What was that like?

RF: That was unbelievable, and it’s one of the best pieces of music I’ve ever worked on. It came about in the weirdest way — a fan of Johnny’s who had some extra money hired me to do it, with basically a limitless budget. I got to hire all the players I wanted to, and probably three-quarters of the singers. To have George Jones, Buck Owens, Hank III, Mavis Staples and everybody else was just great. It’s coming out next spring, the same time as the Michael [Jackson] record.

BH: Tell me about the Michael Jackson record.

RF: It came about because somebody called and hired me to do this show for his birthday in Chicago, and I arranged 10 songs for guitar and mandolin. It was really fun to take these songs that bang around your cerebrum, songs that you take for granted, and reinterpret them to look for their worth as songs. There’s a little bit of irony and comedy on the record, but not that much.

It’s not really a tribute, either, but rather an example of how you can consider music as music, without other baggage.

BH: What are your thoughts on the Ryan Adams controversy?

RF: That was fun. For example, I loved it when I was in Rolling Stone, and the three people who know who I am would go “right on!” and everybody else would say “who the hell is this guy saying these things about this guy we love?” It lasted as long as it should’ve, and if I was still riding that horse all these months later it would be kind of pathetic.

I just think I said what a lot of people say about him. You know, what is he trying to do? Either it’s a guy believing his own press or he’s got some pathology or PR image he has to maintain. I mean, we’ve already got one Paul Westerberg, and he’s got some good songs.

There’s nothing I’ve heard from Ryan Adams that I would compare to Westerberg’s best stuff. But people buy into it, saying, “Ryan’s just a genius, and you just have to turn on the tape recorder and catch the emanations.”

BH: What’s your approach to live performances?

RF: I basically try to break through the haze of the drunks in the room. I think that a live show is like an acrobatic act, where making a record can be really cerebral and more richly rewarding in a lot of ways. Going and doing a show is really easy. It’s just about having a good time, having a beer and cutting loose, blowing off steam from all the driving and lifting and warming up. Pure joy, that’s pretty much all it is for me.

Robbie Fulks plays the Harmony Bar, 2201 Atwood Ave., this Saturday, Nov. 1, at 9:45 p.m.