Too big for his britches

Entertainer of the year is the most coveted award in country music, but is that the best thing for a musician to aspire to?

Take Kenny Chesney, the reigning title-holder at both of the major country academies. The Tennessean’s concert at Staples Center on Friday was so fixated on entertaining the packed arena that it didn’t have any room to breathe, and no way to touch the heart.

Chesney, who came to the attention of the non-country world with his surprise marriage to actress Renee Zellweger last month, made his entrance after an audio-visual buildup worthy of KISS, riding high above the audience on a swing that carried him from the rear of the arena and deposited him on the stage.

From there it was exaggerated, bigger-than-life gesturing as the hip-swiveling, high-fiving, teeth-flashing, kiss-blowing dynamo and his band scampered around ramps and platforms.

This has been Chesney’s approach since he hit the big time a couple of years ago. It distinguishes him from more stationary peers such as Tim McGraw and Alan Jackson, and since it made him country’s biggest box-office draw last year, he obviously sees no reason to tinker with it.

It makes him the ultimate illustration of the personality crisis country music has been suffering since the early ‘90s, when Garth Brooks shook everything up by harnessing the genre’s traditions to rock-show scale.

Brooks was able to retain country’s core elements amid the spectacle, but those who followed were less successful at combining the flash and volume with the plain-spoken intimacy and blue-collar sensibility that defined country for decades.

Chesney’s music itself was more disconnected than ever from country roots, betraying no flavor except arena vanilla. As a songwriter, he often tries to tap that legacy on his records, but he rarely allowed himself to display it on stage. There was a good half an hour of calisthenics before he finally stopped and actually focused on conveying a lyric, on “The Woman With You,” a tender and detailed portrait of a multi-tasking spouse.

There were a few similar moments, but overall they were swamped by the overkill Chesney’s abundant energy was channeling into evoking a spirit of camaraderie and escape, tied to a prominent Caribbean imagery in song and visuals that made him seem more Nassau than Nashville, like a supercharged Jimmy Buffett. With his reveries about carefree days and parties at night, he seemed to be creating some epic kind of beer commercial.

Along those lines, Chesney likes to go for the casual moment, and he’s been known to let his pal Peyton Manning, the football star, join the band on stage with an unplugged guitar. In that spirit, he unwisely turned over an extended stretch late in the set to Uncle Kracker, who might be a good buddy and a fun duet partner (on Chesney’s hit “When the Sun Goes Down”) but is an awful singer and hapless performer.

The sad thing is that Chesney actually went to the trouble of writing and recording a low-key, intimate album of personal reflections and character sketches. But he released “Be What You Are” this year as a low-key side project and performed only one song from it Friday, an acoustic version of “Old Blue Chair.”

It’s too bad he doesn’t have enough faith in his artistry or his audience to risk being touching rather than entertaining for more than a few minutes.

Maybe Chesney feels a little heat on his heels in the form of Gretchen Wilson, who preceded the headliner after an opening set by rock-leaning Texas singer-songwriter Pat Green.

Not only has Wilson matched the 3.5 million sales total of Chesney’s “When the Sun Goes Down” album with her debut “Redneck Woman,” but she’s also stirred up the status quo by presenting a proudly rowdy alternative to country’s demure divas.

Wilson was straightforward and feisty as she celebrated the traits and values of the marginalized redneck lifestyle, and she was confident enough to ask the audience to listen to a couple of songs from her next album. One, “Ain’t You Glad They Ain’t All California Girls?” got a cheer when it took a dig at Paris Hilton.

Now that’s entertainment.