About That Song: Joe Pug
Hi! I’m Sarah Morris. I’m wildly in love with songs and the people who write them. There have been a few songs in my life that have been total gamechangers—songs that made me want to be a songwriter and songs I’ve written that made me feel like I am a songwriter. About That Song is a space where I can learn more about those pivotal songs in other writers’ lives.
For the 49th edition of this series, I was thrilled to connect with Joe Pug, who just released his highly anticipated new album, Sketch of a Promised Departure! In other exciting news, Joe and I will both be playing the third annual Lutsong Music Festival, which takes place July 18-21, 2024, in northern Minnesota. As you plan out your summer music FESTivities, I hope you get your tickets for Lutsong!
Sarah: Hi Joe Pug!! I’ve listened to so many of your conversations with songwriters over the years as part of your most excellent podcast, The Working Songwriter. What a joy it is to get to ask you a few questions of my own.
In the middle of a busy touring schedule, podcast production, and parenting, thanks for taking a moment to share with us a few of the songs that brought you to this moment in your journey. Do you remember the song that you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Joe: My father gave me John Prine’s debut album, the self-titled record with the picture of him sitting on the hay bale on the cover, when I was in high school. Until then, I’d just listened to the alternative rock that was pretty common for someone my age in the 1990s. When I heard “Sam Stone” for the first time, I was really taken aback. I didn’t know a song could be written that had the same effect on the listener that great literature does. That first planted the seed for me.
Sarah: Oh yes. “Sam Stone” is an exquisite piece of writing. Fertile soil for that first songwriting seed! Once you began writing, did you feel like a writer immediately? Was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song.
Joe: It took me a very long time before I was able to write songs that were decent. And the funny part is, I was keenly aware of how terrible my early efforts were; I was under no illusions. So it was painful to work so hard and end up with such dross. I moved to Chicago when I was 21 years old. During the day I worked on a construction crew and at night I would write songs. It was very lonely, but it gave me time to focus. The first song I wrote which I felt had some legitimacy was “Not So Sure.” I still play it in my shows to this day, twenty years later.
Sarah: “I’ve come to say exactly what I mean / and I mean so many things.” This line appears in “Hymn #101” from your debut album, 2008’s Nation of Heat, which you recently released in a full-band re-imagining. Have you said what you mean? Do you still mean so many things?
Joe: I mean so much less now! And I’m not being glib when I say that. When you are young—and I was young writing that song, about 22 or 23—you are nothing but undefined potential. And that has a certain energy and charisma to it. But it doesn’t wear well as you age. As you get older, you become more defined; you take on more responsibilities; you take on more roles that are immutable. So I mean less things now, but that is as it should be. Because the things that I do mean are so much more durable.
Sarah: That resonates for me—the things that fall away as we are increasingly defined; as we age.
In the second verse of “Heroes Pass Us By” on the new album, Sketch of a Promised Departure, you offer us hard human truths set to a most lovely and lush melody:
Heroes pass us by
And we tell them that we love them
Then we murder them in public every time
Children ask us why
But we never have an answer
We just hope that they’ll stop asking by and by
What can you tell us about that song?
Joe: Well, it’s just a song about human nature. And it’s an insight—not a particularly original one—that human nature hasn’t changed. People are martyred for telling too much of the truth, or telling it too soon. They were 2,000 years ago, and they are still now.
Sarah: On every episode of your podcast, you share a poem. As much as I enjoy your conversations with writers I admire, this might be my favorite part of the show. I imagine there’s been a song or two in your writing that might have flowed directly from a poem—if so, can you tell us about that song (and about that poem)?
Joe: My song “Hymn 35” was directly inspired by Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself.” The reader wouldn’t instantly recognize that by listening to that tune and then reading the poem. It’s a pretty ham-fisted tribute. But it was the best I could do at the time.
Sarah: An epic poem to honor in 3-plus minutes of song. Thank you so much for stopping by to chat, Joe! I know you’ve got a summer full of touring that readers can check out, and I’m especially excited to get to hear you in July up at Lutsong Music Festival. Wishing you a wonderful early summer!
See where you can find Joe on tour, and get tickets to Lutsong Music Festival.
Listen to “Heroes Pass Us By”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Morris is a superfan of songs and the people who write them, and a believer that certain songs can change your life. A singer-songwriter / mama / bread maker / coffee drinker who recently released her fifth album of original material, she’s been known to joyfully sing with people in her Big Green Bathroom.