What up, bro? The Smothers Brothers have been performing together longer than you’ve been alive. Seriously.

It’s taken a long time — 40 years, to be exact — but the Smothers Brothers have lately gotten their due as the fearless entertainers they were in the late 1960s. Fired from their groundbreaking CBS variety show for their liberal views on Vietnam, Nixon, drugs and other topics, the brothers have been vindicated in recent documentaries (“Make ‘Em Laugh,” “Smothered”) and, this fall, the new book “Dangerously Funny.”

Clean cut even now, Tom and Dick Smothers will bring the gentler side of their comedy-music stylings to Boettcher Concert Hall on Saturday, with locals Dotsero ($15-$73. 303-623-7876 or coloradosymphony.org). We talked to Tommy in advance of the show about how they’ve managed to stay relevant for more than half a century, the challenges of performing with family , why they’re better than ever now and, of course, wine.

Check our exclusive Q&A below.

The Smothers Brothers welcome George Harrison to their show in 1968.

How have you managed to work with your brother for so long?

It’s a lot like being married but there’s more fighting and no sex. I’m 72 and Dickie’s 70, so we’ll be doing it until our fans can’t get their walkers up the stairs. But we’re having more fun now. We were famous before we were good, and I feel like the last 15 years has been our best work.

Last year marked your 50th year of performing together, which makes you and Dick the longest-lived comedy duo in history.

We are. Comedy teams used to be a staple in American comedy and now they’re becoming kind of a thing of the past, the reason being that the longevity is short. It really is like a marriage — it has about the same changes over the years that a marriage has. One person doing stand-up is cool, but you put two in there and it becomes complicated. You’re doing a duet. A single comic talks to the audience, but two people are talking to each other and the audience can be stressful.

Is it bittersweet that in some ways you’re just now getting the respect you deserve? I know just last year you accepted an Emmy award for “The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour” 40 years after the fact.

Well, we’re on the other side of our career. We’re basically used as a historical suppository. We get more requests to talk about the past than the present, because we’ve worked with a lot of people during our careers, from Jack Benny and George Burns to the Doors and Steve Martin. Or people ask me about playing guitar on John Lennon’s “Give Peace a Chance.” But right now, at this point, we’re having one of the best times we’ve ever had.

And you’ve no doubt played Colorado quite a bit in the past…

Our first job as a duet was doing a show was in Aspen in 1960, then we worked a place called the Exodus in Denver, which used to be the hot folk club at the time. And this place on East Colfax called the Satire. Is that still there?

Oh yeah. Scummy and awesome as ever.

That’s what it used to be when we played there. A local guy named Walt Conley brought us in. Denver was a big, important spot for the Smothers Brothers in the beginning. It’s where we developd into a comedy team.

How may dates do you play per year on average?

Last year we did about 80. We usually do about 75 to 80 a year. It depends on what’s happening.

Now you’re playing here in Denver as party of the Colorado Symphony Orchestra pops series, but won’t actually be appearing with the CSO, although I know you did last month at the Kennedy Center with the National Symphony Orchestra. How does your music fit into that arrangement context?

We have a concert act so we come in the day before and have a rehearsal with them, going through the material and playing it. We do about four to five a year with a symphony. We have a 100 pieces all arranged for this, and there’s a couple numbers we do in the symphony that we don’t do in our regular show, like Gilbert and Sullivan.

You were also releasing comedy albums and finding success with them a lot sooner than many people credited with making it a powerhouse medium in the 1960s and ’70s.

It was a great time. Radio stations played these cuts too. One time we had three albums in the top 20. We were (in there) with (Bill) Cosby and (Bob) Newhart.

What do you feel about the health of the comedy album these days?

Every time I pick up and read something about the industry people don’t know what’s going on. You put albums out on YouTube now. I think it’s becoming a visual thing. You put out an HBO special. But we don’t do that anymore because we’re not asked to (laughs). We’re on the other side of hip.

Later this year there will be a book published about you called “Dangerously Funny.” Did doing interviews for that give you a sense of perspective on your career and your legacy?

It was great to get the kudos and stuff. When we were fired in ‘69 it was hard getting eye contact with my peers. It’s like someone has a bad disease. Everyone was always like, “How are you feeling?” For the ’70s we were doing some dinner theater and Broadway shows and stuff, but the last ten years it’s been, “Hey, man, thank you very much. You really stood up and fought the machine and didn’t give up.” (Note: The Smothers Brothers filed and won a breach of contract lawsuit with CBS after the show was abruptly cancelled).

It’s a residual sort of respect…

It was was kind of delayed but it’s nice. Being fired was a gift in disguise. It had an ugly wrapping but in a sense it was… we were off the radar for about 10, 15 years so we didn’t overstay our welcome and we started coming back and people really liked the show and we were much better after all the experience of doing theater. And now we’re really good.

How do you feel about the state of comedy in 2009? Have we progressed much over the years?

When I saw (the documentary) “Smothered,” it reminded me that the last years of Bush’s second term felt exactly like 1968. It felt exactly the same way 40 years later. People might say, “Look, you can say anything you want on television now.” But I say, “Wait a minute, you’re mistaking foul language and sexuality for freedom of ideas. Except for Bill Maher, the late George Carlin — who had great social commentary, the stuff on the fringes. In the ’60s, if I was brighter I would have loved to be doing radical stuff. I love Michael Moore. I love people who step out. Our show’s a family show, but when the show’s ever everybody knows exactly where we stand. We just don’t bang ‘em on the head with it.