Wilson Dixon is the latest entrant to comedy’s country music hall of fame, following in the rhinestone cowboy boots of Otis Lee Crenshaw, Tina C, and countless genuine musicians who don’t take their chosen genre all that seriously.

But there is plenty in country to mock, from the redneck mix of stupidity and arrogance to the morbid obsessions of country lyrics, which leaves plenty of space for Dixon at the piss-take saloon.

Jesse Griffin, the Australian character comic behind him, takes a rather affectionate route to the laughs. His creation might not be the sharpest tool in the box, but neither is he the bluntest, so he can at least make attempts at eloquent homespun wisdom, even if his slightly missing the point is where the humour lies.

His best songs are essentially just lists of such musings; laboured metaphors for life or forging proverbs that are unlikely to catch on. The structure enables him to have many variations on a theme, which makes them surprisingly gag-packed.

The way these turns of phrase work in a series of brief one-liners is a product of skilful, mature and witty writing; as are understated throwaway lines in the between-song banter and quietly knowing callbacks to earlier gags.

As a simple, unhurried country chap, Dixon makes for a subdued performer, which mean his set is rather low-energy when he’s telling tales of life back home in Cripple Creek, Colorado. But he’s a comic who rewards careful listening – and as soon as he starts strumming his guitar, the routine sparkles into life again.

This is a proper, rounded musical character, with the sort of nuanced performance and subtle humour that have already made cult stars of Flight Of The Conchords. Don’t be surprised if he follows in their wake.