Tom Heinl WITH OR WITHOUT ME (Leisure King)

Hailing from Portland, Oregon, Tom Heinl might be the best country-novelty songwriter of the past 10 years. He has a polished, hardwood-paneling baritone that makes you think of George Jones and Buck Owens and beige slacks, not to mention a backing band who pull off an imitation of the late-’60s/early-’70s countrypolitan sound that’s as indistinguishable from the originals as the house bands at Desco and Daptone are to the same era’s funk. Heinl combines down-home surrealism and classicism like a cross between Tom Waits and Tom T. Hall, and he’s drop-dead funny, too, in that distinctly country, laughing-to-keep-from-crying kinda way.

Capsule descriptions of his songs make them sound like tragedies. On "Three Way," a man asks his wife for an extra partner in bed and finds himself left out in the cold. A drunken trip to a late-night fast-food joint turns into a queasy existential journey. A man burns to death when his Christmas tree catches fire — on Valentine’s Day. Not all of Heinl’s songs are punch-line-funny: the opening dead-mother/drunk-daddy song "Mama" is textbook satire, being perhaps the most perfect example of the thing it’s parodying. Which is what makes With or Without Me more than novelty: it’s like a weird, warped form of adulation, big enough to include those who love country and those who hate it.

(Tom Heinl opens for the Decemberists this Saturday, March 27, at T.T. the Bear’s Place, 10 Brookline Street in Central Square; call 617-492-BEAR.)