The name is Pardi, Jon Pardi. Pronounced “party.” And he throws a pretty darn good one.

That was the overarching impression of the California cowboy’s Wednesday night show at the Minnesota State Fair Grandstand. It was not only a terrific showcase for Pardi’s songwriting skills and the instrumental acumen of each member of his seven-piece backing band, but there was a hootenanny feel to the whole night, the crowd enthusiastically shouting along with almost every song.

When the headliner is as strong a songsmith as Pardi is, that drowning out could be irritating, but there was such a festive feel to the whole concert that the partiers (Pardi-ers?) could be easily forgiven. It was clear that country fans seeking the right State Fair show for their tastes had made this a destination concert. Particularly the younger ones, for a very high percentage of those in the crowd of 9,292 were in their teens and 20s.

And they were treated to a very well-executed show. From the moment Pardi took the stage while tearing through a spirited electric guitar solo, it was clear that he isn’t an artist who just sings the songs of others and lets his musicians do the heavy lifting. No, Pardi is a very good songwriter and quite a fine guitarist, too. Yes, his high tenor voice is reedy, somewhat raspy and not particularly rich, but he gives every song his all, judging from Wednesday.

So what kind of country does Pardi play? That’s tough to nail down. The prominent play that he gave his fiddler — who took a lot of solos at the end of a short runway that jutted into the standing-room patrons in front of the stage — and his ample use of pedal steel guitar could convince you he’s a traditionalist. As could his use of many of country’s favorite subjects in his lyrics, particularly drinking, which was the focus of 10 of the 22 songs he offered in his 95-minute performance. But that served to amp up the party atmosphere.

Pardi is also quite the craftsman with songs of love and loss like “Mr. Saturday Night,” “Ain’t Always the Cowboy” and the final encore, “Head Over Boots.” And the twangy traditionalism was sometimes elbowed aside by a Southern rock aesthetic reminiscent of vintage Lynyrd Skynyrd, found in songs like “What I Can’t Put Down” or the swampy “Your Heart or Mine.”

Pardi showed that his songs stand up well unadorned when he performed three songs solo with an acoustic guitar. And “Starlight” proved an inspiring power ballad that reflected on lost friends and family.

Sure, he’s not a matinee idol or a sex god, but Pardi seemed to enjoy playing the role of one in good-natured fashion. And he’s quite the charismatic performer. If he keeps this first-rate band together, catch them if you can. For his star is certain to rise.

The same could be said of the evening’s opening act, Dillon Carmichael, a burly, bearded songwriter from Kentucky who also boasted a fine band and a taste of Skynyrd-esque Southern rock. (He didn’t credit his lead guitarist, but he should have, for his solos were consistently thrilling.) Carmichael has a fun if slightly sophomoric sense of humor, as evidenced by the risque “Sawin’ Logs” and “Hot Beer,” which is something like a humorous take on the same theme as Taylor Swift’s “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together.”

Rob Hubbard can be reached at wordhub@yahoo.com.

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