His Songs? Bleak. His Future? Bright.

Why is that uncomfortable?

"Because there's more people," McMurtry says, averting his eyes. "I'm not really a people person."

You're a misanthrope?

"I don't know that I'm a misanthrope; I just hate people -- some of the time."

* * *

Funny thing about James McMurtry: He has a masterly command of the English language, but you might not know it from engaging him in conversation -- if you can get him to engage at all. (He is notoriously taciturn around his fans.)

In interviews, he'll talk about himself, about his art, his influences, his politics, his father, his own son's songwriting -- all of it. He'll be thoughtful and revealing. He just won't be loquacious. Don't take it personally. His friends don't.

Every Wednesday, when McMurtry is at home in Austin, he performs a late-night set at the Continental Club. He's almost always preceded onstage by singer-songwriter Jon Dee Graham, who once asked McMurtry's girlfriend, "Why doesn't James like me? He's said maybe nine words to me in three years and we play together every week!"

"And she goes: 'Nine? Wow, he really likes you.' "

Graham laughs. "Obviously, this is a man who uses words like a scalpel. He's pretty [expletive] precise; I think he's always looking for the right words. . . . And as a songwriter, I respect and envy the hell out of him.

"He's able to create, whole cloth, out of thin air, things that never happened to people who don't exist, and to make them funny, witty, insightful and a general comment on the world. How do you do that?"