CLEVELAND, Ohio — “I hope you like country music,” a smiling Vince Gill recently told an audience at Detroit’s Fox Theatre. “This might be the longest night of your life, right here.”

Fortunately, a long time is also a good time when it comes to Gill.

The 68-year-old country (and more) veteran certainly has the goods to make the three-hour-plus shows he’s been doing this summer worthwhile. With more than 45 years of recordings on his resume — on his own as well as with Pure Prairie League, Rodney Crowell’s Notorious Cherry Bombs and the Time Jumpers — the singer, songwriter and guitar virtuoso has notched more than 30 Top 20 hits on Billboard’s Country chart. He’s won 22 Grammy Awards, 18 Country Music Association Awards and six Academy of Country Music trophies. The Oklahoma native, who’s been married to fellow singer Amy Grant for 25 years, has also collaborated on hits by Reba McEntire, Brooks & Dunn, Maren Morris, Kelly Clarkson and others.

The summer trek, which stops at Playhouse Square in Cleveland on Saturday, comes during a break from Eagles’ Sphere residence in Las Vegas; Gill joined the band in 2017 to fill in for the late Glenn Frey, alongside Frey’s son Deacon. Don’t expect him to talk about it on stage. Outside of slipping in a quote from the “I Can’t Tell You Why” guitar solo, Gill prefers to focus on his own story, one that — 50 years after leaving home to play bluegrass in Kentucky — is unquestionably epic…

What puts you on the road this summer?

Gill: I’m just missing playing my songs. Y’know, building the career catalog of all that stuff for the last 40 years, it’s just fun to get remember these songs and play ‘em. Plus, I`ve got an unbelievable band, some really, really, really great people — people I record with, top-notch sessions players. I just wanted to out and have fun this summer, and we`re just having a ball.

You mention 40 years since those first albums of your own, (“The Things That Matter,” and an EP before that, plus what you did with the bands before that. What’s your perspective on the career now?

Gill: Just gratefulness for being able to have had a lifetime of doing what I love more than anything. That’s a gift in itself. I’m just filled with gratitude and I love getting to play — still do. It feels like it did when I was 18. That hasn’t changed.

You started out as a band guy, with bluegrass bands and then Pure Prairie League and the Notorious Cherry Bombs. Was striking out on your own always the goal?

Gill: No. I wasn’t sure I’d have ever tried it. I left home in 1975 and played in different bands and did pretty OK with that. I didn’t have to be the front guy or the focal point; if I got to be in a good band and play great music as the harmony singer, lead guitar, rhythm guitar…just getting to do it was a gift. After my first child, Jenny, was born in 1982, I kinda saw the writing on the wall that Pure Prairie League was not my future. And I said, ‘I’ve been writing more and more songs, maybe I could make it as an artist.” I tried to get a deal out of being in Pure Prairie League, and nobody was interested in signing me to a pop deal. (Label executive/producer) Tony Brown was my dear friend who wound up producing a majority of my records, said, “Y should be a country singer. You talk country, act country. All that other (pop stuff) isn’t in your wheelhouse as much as when you’re doing country music.” So I made a decision to try it, got a record deal in ’83, made my first record and struggled for years trying to get a hit, but I didn’t know how to do anything else.

What made country a better fit?

Gill: I just think it was more natural, more of my upbringing. It had more to do with my bluegrass years and my mother and father’s love of country music and the records they had when I was a kid, how drawn I was to Merle Haggard and Buck Owens and Patsy Cline — just as much as I was to the pop stars and singer-songwriters. I just loved it all. But when I was 18, I just felt like bluegrass wasn’t enough to hold me and making country-rock records was probably not enough to hold me. I wanted to make country records. I wanted to make records that felt like Haggard. That’s what I love the most. I wanted to crack that code, and I did for a little while. Then it was back to not as much interest; they kind of turned the faucet of fad to the younger folks. You knew it would happen, so it didn’t bother me. I was pretty consistently OK with that the whole time. I knew I had enough talent I could go back and play guitar in everyone’s band and do sessions and that would’ve been OK, too. I had the respect of my peers and other musicians. All those kinds of things mattered more to me than cracking the code of being a big shot smarty pants as my friend says.

Where there any of those early pop songs that were turned into country songs once you chose that direction?

Gill: Not really, no — maybe a couple over the years, but not too many. I always thought they were not gonna like me coming into (Nashville) ‘cause I’ moving from L.A. and “What’s a pop guy from Pure Prairie League doing trying to be a country singer?” The one thing I wish I hadn’t done so much of is I tried to make records I thought the record company would like because of who they had as artists and what their stance was and what they seemed to gravitate towards. In hindsight I think that was probably an error, but not enough of one to worry me too much.

What’s been the biggest surprise in all these years?

Gill: In 2017, I would’ve never thought in a million years that Don Henley would call and say, “You want to come finish this ride out with me and come play with Joe (Walsh) and Timothy (B. Schmit)?” I was just like, “God, can you make the question harder? Of course I’ll come. It’ll be perfect.” It’s such a great…I think more than anything, the validation I feel like it gives me, for a lifetime of work and what I’ve tried to accomplish and tried to be good at. For one of the best bands in history to recognize it and ask me to come along for their final ride is really special

The ride’s been longer than expected, too.

Gill: I think everybody was unsure if it was even doable, and then it was and it was eerily cool and kind of, “OK…” I mean, the only reason I got to do it was because of something sad and something tragic in the passing of Glenn, so I keep that in the forefront of my mind. I don’t beat on my chest and go, “Hey, I’m in the Eagles!” I never bring it up very often. I remember the first gig I did with those guys, I was really, really scared. I could feel the apprehension in the people sitting in the crowd; it’s a stadium and there’s 50,000 people there or whatever and it’s like, “Good luck. You’re gonna be the guy that sings all of Glenn’s songs.” And the first song, “Lyin’ Eyes,” I remember singing a verse and chorus and I felt like everyone was taking a deep breath and going, “It’s gonna be OK.” It was palpable, and I was grateful for it.

They include some Joe Walsh solo songs and James Gang songs in the shows. Has there ever been talk about putting some of your material in too?

Gill: I was singing an old song of mine, “Whenever You Come Around,” at sound check before the first show. Don heard it and came over and said, “What is that song?” I said, “It’s an old hit of mine from years ago.” He said, “Man, we should work that up and do it,” and I said, “Don, with all respect, I’d rather not.” He said, “Why?” I said, “Look, what I’m getting ready to do is not gonna be easy, and I really don’t want to give these people one more reason not to like me or not accept me — ‘I didn’t come here to hear a Vince Gill song!’” He said, “Man I really respect that.” It was my way to not only protect myself; it seemed like the right thing to do. But it meant something to me that Don said that. Somebody asked him, “Why did you get a country guy in your rock band?” and he laughed and said, “He knows how to be in a band.”

Do you think playing Sphere will keep Eagles going longer than was intended?

Gill: It’s pretty cool; I jokingly say it’s the most people I’ve been ignored by because everyone’s paying attention to the bells and whistles and all the video stuff — as the should because it’s so overwhelming to see it. And from my point of view it becomes a destination for everybody who’s always loved that band to come and see them one last time, and I think they will shut it down after the Vegas residency. I know we’re going back (in) September, October, November. I don’t know what happens after that. I don’t get a vote — don’t want one. I do what I’m told and I show up where they tell me.

Meanwhile, you’re playing these crazy long shows of your own.

Gill: I guess I think I’m (Bruce) Springsteen or something. (laughs) I just love playing so much; I wish people knew how much I get out of that. I play for a long time ‘cause for years I was everybody’s opening act, and I’d only get to play 30 or 40 minutes. That was so fleeting…I just made a promise that if I get to have my way and play my own shows, I’m gonna play for as long as they let me. I tell people, “We’re gonna play for a long time, and you won’t hurt my feelings if you have to leave. We’re gonna play ‘em anyway!’” This is for me.