CALGARY -- It’s difficult not to impress when you’re a country star performing during the Stampede.

This is the time of year when all the honky-tonk-loving folk come off the farm to see their idols shine on stage, and all the city slickers follow along for the ride.

For those of you having trouble telling the groups apart — just take a look at the gear.

Real cowboys don’t wear pink hats.

They certainly don’t have jewels on their belt buckles.

And they’re probably not walking around with that Stampede limp all the wannabes — who bought their boots last week — are sporting.

Still can’t pick them out?

They’d be the ones at last night’s sold-out Alan Jackson concert who rose out of their seats just long enough to groove to his biggest hits (think Chattahoochee, Summertime Blues and Don’t Rock the Jukebox), but couldn’t sing a lick of anything else. Yeah, them.

On the other side of the coin, however, were the true country music lovers. The ones who screamed as Jackson made his entrance onto the stage at the Saddledome. The ones who recited every word of every song he presented.

And the ones who professed their love to him from their, “I’m a part of the fan club” seats on the floor.

But, regardless of what pack they run in, all those in attendance last night seemed in agreement about one thing — Jackson can sing one heck of a ditty.

The show opened with video footage of Jackson’s many award wins. One after another, the famous — and not-so famous — popped up on the five screens, saying “and the award goes to,” until one finally announced Jackson’s name, and the crowd went mad.

Enter Jackson, who, dressed in casual blue jeans, a black-and-white button-up, a beige cowboy hat and white snakeskin boots, ripped into Gone Country, following it up with I Don’t Even Know Your Name.

Because Jackson wrote or co-wrote many of his hits over the past 15 years, his show came across more as a musical history lesson of his life, filled with ups and downs, than a concert.

There were few bells and even less whistles (you won’t see any explosions, dancing girls or flying stunts at a Jackson concert), just the 47-year-old, his nine-piece band, The Strayhorns, and a few scattered video screens projecting images of his band and his songs.

Among those numbers was Jackson’s Livin’ On Love, which, accompanied by photographs of his parents, proved to be one of the most honest and heartfelt songs of the night.

But the obvious pleasers were his up-tempo hits, which got the crowd moving, even if Jackson himself was mostly standing still.

While not known for his charisma on stage, Jackson did seem less detached from the crowd than one would expect, shedding his tough, Marlboro Man image, while pacing the lip of the stage, tossing out guitar picks.

As for opener Adam Gregory, he had all the energy one would expect from a 21-year-old Edmonton boy performing in front of thousands.

Dressed in pretty much the same outfit as Jackson, the unshaven, hatless Gregory appeared older than his years.

While hardly a veteran, his experience showed on stage as he ripped into crowd pleaser after crowd pleaser.

But it was his closing number, Get it On, that showed why Gregory was able to capture the hearts of country music lovers when he was just a kid.