With a new record in stores and his future open and uncertain, singer/songwriter Beaver Nelson took to the stage on Wednesday, at Little Brother’s, 1100 N. High St.

A “roots-rock” phenom back home in Austin Texas, the tall, craggy-faced Texan is touring the country in support of “Undisturbed” (under the label Black Dog), an album that manages to establish it’s elegiac conceptual preoccupation, the transitory nature of love and life, while experimenting endlessly with a different musical form on nearly every track.

All of the very best songs on “Undisturbed,” as well as those from previous records, were pulled-off with wit and energy at the show, though the set was not a runaway success.

Before the lights went down, the small crowd in attendance was deceptively a buzz with anticipation. When asked about Nelson’s set, however, two women at the club conceded the truth.

“We don’t even know who he is,” they admitted.

Such was the ominous consensus. Although Nelson headlined, the opening act, Ohio-bred singer/songwriter Alice Ripley, was clearly the major draw and recipient of the lion’s share of enthusiasm. After knocking out a powerful acoustic set, most of the audience followed her to the exits.

“Thanks to everybody for coming out to see (Alice) tonight,” Nelson quipped after taking the stage.

Such has been the history with this 30-year-old artist. From time to time, the spotlight lands on him and nobody is around to listen. Ten years ago, after Rolling Stone dubbed him “the future of ‘roots’ music” at the amazing age of 19, Nelson signed two consecutive major-label contracts which failed to produce the national adulation his immense talents warrant.

“There was too much money invested, and I was personally trying to do too much. There aren’t too many people at 20 who can handle that. It took me five years to learn from the experience, but I did,” Nelson said.

Coming on the heels of two indie records, 1998’s “The Last Hurrah” and 2000’s “Little Brother,” “Undisturbed” is, by Nelson’s own account, his most cohesive and sonically imaginative album to date.

The prospect that it might resurrect the hype that accrued to him a decade ago is one he views skeptically.

“To be honest, I don’t think about radio at all,” Nelson said.  “That type of music is a foreign thing. People who listen to that would never buy my records, which is fine. I just want to sell enough to keep on making records.”

In belittling his mainstream prospects, Nelson sells his more-than-acute pop sensibilities short. “The Beauty in Store,” an unbearably powerful lullaby to his baby son, could be a top-40 smash tomorrow if marketers and radio-programmers knew what to do with it.

The accessibility of Nelson’s songs isn’t a flaw. While his music is heartfelt, it isn’t innocuous. In a generally nihilistic rock music climate, it can be difficult to interpret the difference, but sophisticated listeners will.

While his approach is always sincere, his world view is as much bitter as sweet. In songs like “Better Now,” “Eleven Again,” and “I Wanted Too Much,” emphasis returns, in interesting lyrical ways, to his great belief in the possibility of human happiness, tempered by skepticism about our ability to recognize it in the myriad forms it takes.

Initially, Nelson’s lyrics may sound like the poetic musings of a bright child, only to redouble toward greater eloquence upon repeated listening and deeper understanding. Such is the case in the refrain of “Experiments in Love,” which recounts a painful romantic rejection to the plaintive accompaniment of a single acoustic guitar.

This number was perhaps the highlight of Nelson’s live performance, which rocked along nicely after most of those in attendance had left. He managed to take the evacuation in stride, ripping through his playlist with the erstwhile vocal passion of a caught-in-the-groove blues man, to the delight of the sparse crowd.

Well past the wunderkind phase of his career, each new Beaver Nelson record tends to be unfairly characterized in the press as a “make-or-break” project. Even a talent of this magnitude has, of course, no guarantee of becoming a star.

What Nelson’s talent and his passion suggest, however, is that he’ll continue to get work, be it in smallish, half-filled clubs or in the larger venues he once seemed destined for. There is a lot of history in this man’s story, as well as a lot of promise.

One wonders what beauty lies in store.