Two of the alterna-country underground’s most talented acts, Robbie Fulks and Blue Mountain, recently found themselves with no record contracts, no industry obligations, and their futures up in the air. The feeding frenzy over roots bands that found groups like Whiskeytown signing big-money deals in the mid ’90s had dried up. But Fulks (who comes to T.T. the Bear’s Place next Friday) and Blue Mountain haven’t been deterred: like many of the artists they built their sounds on, both are in it for the long haul. And both are back with indie albums dedicated to the music that inspired them. Fulks pays tribute to what he calls the golden age of country music on his new 13 Hillbilly Giants (Boondoggle), which is officially available only on line at www.robbiefulks.com. Meanwhile Blue Mountain’s Roots (Black Dog) revamps a batch of mostly traditional tunes.

Fulks originally made a name for himself on the Chicago alterna-country stronghold Bloodshot, then aimed for a commercial crossover on his 1998 Geffen debut, Let’s Kill Saturday Night — and then landed back with Bloodshot in the wake of Geffen’s acquisition by Interscope. The next album of original songs he was working on didn’t fit the Bloodshot mold, it’s reported, so he put it on hold to record Giants. Sidestepping celebrated outlaws like Merle Haggard and George Jones, the disc reaches back to songs by more obscure renegades like Jean Shepard, Hylo Brown, and Frankie Miller.

Few contemporary artists are better equipped than Fulks to handle this material. His first two albums nailed every country idiom, from Bob Wills swing to Hank Williams cheating-heart laments. On Giants, he moves easily from Jimmy Murphy’s stomping “We Live a Long Time To Get Old” to the hard-luck harmonies of Bill Anderson’s “Cocktails” to the spoken-word fable of the Porter Wagoner/Dolly Parton classic “Jeannie’s Afraid of the Dark.” His clear, crisp voice and adroit flat-picking are a natural fit for such seminal tunes.

Blue Mountain’s story is more fraught with personal turmoil. Prior to Roots, the band had released three albums on Roadrunner, a label known better for developing young metal bands than for working the roots market. That may explain why each of the band’s Roadrunner releases sold fewer copies than the its predecessor, until 1999’s Tales of a Traveler barely even registered as a blip on the SoundScan charts. And as Roadrunner and Blue Mountain were parting ways, singer/guitarist Cary Hudson and guitarist/bassist Laurie Stirratt (the sister of Wilco bassist John Stirratt) came to the end of their marriage. Then long-time Blue Mountain drummer Frank Coutch and bass player George Sheldon, who’d rounded out the line-up on Tales of a Traveler, decided to leave.

Blue Mountain could easily have just released Roots as their farewell album and thrown in the towel. Instead, Hudson and Stirratt decided to continue on, and a new album of original tunes is expected later this year. In the meantime, with Sheldon and Coutch along for one last ride, they opted to record a collection of covers dating back to the early 1900s, including English folksongs, Appalachian Mountain tunes, and logging-camp ditties. Hudson and Stirratt stoke the tragic embers of the already heartbreaking Carter Family classic “I’m Thinking Tonight of My Blue Eyes” when they harmonize on the refrain “Would have been better for us if we never in this wide and wicked world ever had met/For the pleasures we’ve both seen together/I’m sure we will never forget.”

Elsewhere on Roots, Blue Mountain are more playful. They open with the traditional barroom sing-along “Rye Whiskey,” where Hudson sings lead but Sheldon keeps threatening to take over, his voice breaking as he hollers his background vocals. And on the capper, the lively country jig “Little Stream of Whiskey,” Coutch does his first lead vocal with the band, ending his stint with a smile as he sings a farewell to a dying hobo.

Fulks and Blue Mountain bring individual sensibilities to the table on their journeys back through country’s roots. But their roads do intersect at one point: Fulks covers Bill Carlisle’s “Knot Hole” and Blue Mountain take a stab at brother Cliff Carlisle’s “The Nasty Swing.” The Carlisles joined the Grand Ole Opry in 1953; Bill, in his 90s, still performs there regularly. Blue Mountain’s souped-up electric-blues stomp and Fulks’s upright-bass-driven two-step offer quite different takes on the country classics, but the Carlisle connection reminds us that they’re linked by a tradition that roots musicians can always return to for inspiration, regardless of the industry flavor-of-the-month.

Robbie Fulks performs next Friday, April 13, at T.T. the Bear’s Place with the Scrimshanders and the Heygoods. Call (617) 492-BEAR.