That statement embarrasses Mr. Earle today. “Did I ever believe that Townes was better than Bob Dylan?” he asked wearily. “No.” For Mr. Earle, Van Zandt was both an inspiring and bedeviling model, a man who put his art above all other considerations but who sometimes seemed to regard success itself as inherently compromising. Though far from a superstar, Mr. Earle has earned two gold albums and two Grammy Awards, and he views such recognition as a valuable reward for hard work. “I don’t think Townes was a victim,” Mr. Earle stated. “Part of him didn’t consider himself worthy of anything.”

Image Steve Earle, above in Greenwich Village, has a new album of songs by his mentor Townes Van Zandt. Credit... Fred R. Conrad/The New York Times

In a way, however, Van Zandt’s reward was the legend that followers like Mr. Earle helped foster. To this day he is the subject of tales that are told and retold, embellished and laughed over, whenever anyone who met him has a willing audience. There was the time, for example, when Van Zandt, frustrated that Mr. Earle was fooling with a .357 Magnum during a get-together, picked up a pistol himself, put a couple of bullets in the chamber and spun it around, pointed the gun at his own head and pulled the trigger twice. The gun didn’t fire, but Van Zandt had made his point about bravado.

Such stories established Van Zandt as a doomed romantic figure. Throughout his life he wandered among Tennessee, Colorado and his home state of Texas, often calling no particular place his home. His live performances could be riveting. On good nights he seemed to disappear into chronicles of existential joy and agony like “To Live Is to Fly,” “Waiting ’Round to Die” and “Tower Song,” gently delivering irreducible truths summed up in lines like, “Everything is not enough/And nothing is too much to bear.” On bad nights he would fall off his stool onstage, too drunk or high to get through a set.

With “Townes” Mr. Earle attempts both to pay a debt and to extricate his idol’s songs from the mythology surrounding his life. Mr. Earle, who first made his mark in the 1980s with smart country-rock albums like “Guitar Town” and “Copperhead Road,” has endured devastating struggles with addiction, was jailed for drugs and weapons possession and nearly died. The romance of Van Zandt’s problems long ago lost whatever allure they may once have had for him.

Mr. Earle’s house here, which he purchased last year with his wife, the country singer Allison Moorer, includes a sleek electric wine cooler left by the previous owners. Mr. Earle displays it prominently by the counter in his kitchen. You won’t be served a hard drink here. Bottles of seltzer and diet soda stock the cooler. Mr. Earle’s rule is that if you bring an alcoholic beverage into the house, you must carry the container out when you leave. “I don’t underestimate my disease,” he said.