As a rule I believe you don’t have to grow up with a style of music in order to write it and play it well. I’ve heard great Americana music out of Scandinavia; some authentic country music from people who lived their whole life in Los Angeles; Bela Fleck grew up in that hotbed of Appalachian music, New York City, for goodness sake. But as the saying goes, the exception proves the rule, and in this case the exception is the latest from Pug Johnson, entitled El Cabron. I just don’t think you could have written this album if you didn’t grow up living and breathing Texas music and its geographical relevance.
Start with Buy Me A Bayou. It plays to Johnson’s roots in Beaumont with a zydeco bit of silliness about what you’d do with lottery winnings. “With an outboard motor on a pontoon floater I can glide through” paints a picture of Cajun luxury. The title track is old school country, but brassed up with some sweet trombone. It’s about a fictional character living the Texas trope of runs down to Mexico for fun. Except, as he sings it, you start to wonder how much truth and how much fiction there is in the story. Hole In Me is pure country shuffle, played from sawdust floors in Fort Worth to the dance halls of New Braunfels.
There are a couple of good covers on the record, and a couple of good could-be covers. Thanks To the Cathouse is a Johnny Paycheck composition with a little Flacco Jimenez style accordion. If I take the lyrics of the album collectively, I think there might just be a bit of autobiography in there, too. Pipeliner Blues, best known via Texas Music Hall of Famer Johnny Bush, is a honky-tonking swing tune with some awesome piano and pedal steel parts. Last Call is a nod to Terry Allen and the music coming out of the Rio Grande Valley. There’s a giggle-inducing line about having the picked-up companion for the remainder of the night first blow in the breathalyzer so they can start the truck. CD-closer Time Well Wasted is a west Texas, piano-led, rock and roll country number. As it picks up its groove Johnson starts calling out the musicians a la a live show, emphasizing this was a band in a studio, not a bunch of artists Dropboxing in their parts.
I’m a big fan of music that paints a picture of a time or place. That extra dimension underscores a craftsman who put together a whole story, not just a collection of random songs from their notebook. From that perspective, Pug Johnson is a helluva storyteller, and El Cabron is quite a treat.
About the author: I've actually driven from Tehatchapee to Tonopah. And I've seen Dallas from a DC-9 at night.