Thirty years ago, Neil Young epitomized the rage of the protest era with his scathing commentary on the killings at Kent State, “Ohio.” Since then, he’s dropped in on the zeitgeist only once, when his independent spirit and brand of raunchy garage-rock became the blueprint for grunge. Never one to succumb to outside pressures, Young has dictated his own popularity through the vicissitudes of a bizarre and impossibly productive career, just as he shaped his performance Friday in the first of two expensive, sold-out solo acoustic shows.

Smirking at the litany of requests that flowed from audience members who evidently felt their $80 tickets had bought them a dialogue with the artist, Young seemed to ad lib a set list that teased classics (“Tell Me Why,” “Pocahontas”), veered into dusty corners of his past (the 1975 song “Albuquerque”), and previewed material from a forthcoming solo album.

Neil Young

Paramount Theater, Friday, March 5

Surrounding himself with six- and 12-string guitars, a banjo, two pianos, and a pump organ, he gave an infallible reading of nearly every song he played; the only miscues came when a rogue harmonica and a case of forgotten lyrics marred the beginning of “The Last Trip to Tulsa,” which first appeared on his 1970 solo debut.

It’s a testament to Young’s genius that he could satisfy a ravenous crowd with such forgotten nuggets and a handful of previously unheard songs. In one of the new numbers, he sang of experiencing a block when writing lyrics and “trying not to use the word ‘old.'” Then he’d un-abashedly croon about some ancient farmer walking down a country lane underneath a glowing moon, as he’s done for years, or lapse into yet another reverie about love’s mystical qualities.

Even then, Young was irresistible. If the new stuff lulled the crowd, he’d restake his claim, strumming the gilded melody to the later hit “Harvest Moon” or turning the once-twangy “See the Sky About to Rain” into an elegant piano ballad. Workmanlike, he’d stand up, take a sip of beer, sit down, and lift a guitar. The moment of anticipation as to what he’d play next was priceless, and Neil Young owned it.