Pug Johnson is a funny guy. He sings and writes country-style songs with humorous titles like “Buy Me a Bayou”, “Thanks to the Cathouse (I’m in the Doghouse With You)”, and “Time Well Wasted”. He’s not using comedy to make serious points as much as to entertain. That’s good! Life is hard enough without having to constantly be reminded about death, taxes, and politics. Johnson would rather tell funny tales centered on alcohol and women.
The Beaumont, Texas native mixes the styles of the Gulf Coast region (Tex-Mex, Cajun, swamp rock) with a surreal sensibility and a dash of pathos. The narrator of El Cabron‘s 11 tracks is a loveable loser who knows he’s missing out on something, but he’s not quite sure what. He knows he has behaved badly. He confesses his misconduct to a series of females on song after song. The singer-songwriter repeatedly apologizes, but his sincerity is questionable. The same is true of the women in his life. Their waywardness mirrors his own. The point is none of it is that none of us is perfect. We all want the same thing: true love, a good time, and we all make fools of ourselves in our search for comfort and support.
The title song provides a key to understanding how Johnson approaches his characters. “El Cabron” is a Spanish word for big goat and can be translated as an insult or a compliment depending on how one uses it. The protagonist is a sloppy drunk who overindulges in other vices as he heads to Mexico. He’s the life of the party in his own mind. Others see him differently. His favorite drink is a Singapore Sling, an overly sweet drink that doesn’t have roots on either side of the border. The absurdity of this preference reveals the character’s shallowness and silliness. He may feel sophisticated, but his inanity is apparent to the listeners.
Johnson understands the importance of the “telling detail” to being amusing. Using a Singapore Sling is a comic choice that turns a tall tale into something weirder. His songs are filled with strange particulars that make the bizarre seem normal. He also has a penchant for the quick, dirty joke through wordplay. For example, “Pipeliner Blues” is just one extended riff on the metaphor of a pipe being a big dick.
Or on the more sophisticated “Last Call (With Apologies to Terry Allen)”, the singer croons “Get out of your head / Get into my truck / I know a nice spot where we can go…” He doesn’t use the f-word but quickly sings “suck on some Dos Equis beer” with a nod to Kinky Friedman. The Texan in Johnson is strong, as evidenced by the Terry Allen and Kinky references.
Sometimes, Johnson is convincingly serious in the way a reprobate can be. The horns that open and weave through Believer” add a sacred element to a love story. The acoustic elements of “Change Myself Today” work similarly. These are tracks five and ten of an 11-song record, and they create an odd dissonance. They are some of the best cuts on the album, but completely change the mood. They might work better as the first or last two tracks to not interrupt the vibe. Instead, the last song is a six-minute tribute to “Time Well Wasted”. Johnson seems unable to make up his mind as to whether he wants to have fun or not.
The album begins and ends with the sound of a big train headed down over the rails. That suggests a larger concept holding the material together, but that’s not true of the contents. That doesn’t really matter. The songs are way cool, and Johnson delivers them with wit and gusto. He’s the “El Cabron” in the positive sense and deserves praise.