In indie's electronic landscape, Joe Pug is a man of tradition. His foray into music began not on a laptop but on a simple acoustic guitar. (After all, laptops are fragile and don't fare well in the boxcars and pickup beds that Pug sounds like he travels in.) He has branded himself firmly as a folk troubadour of yesteryear, with the lone-guitar live shows and harmonica to match. He's got that soul-weary voice and songs about protest. And he has a mythology to match: A playwriting student at the University of North Carolina, he dropped out the day before his senior year and headed northwest to Chicago. He dusted off an old guitar and started writing songs based on his unfinished play. He worked days as a carpenter. I repeat: as a carpenter. Does it get more authentic than that? I bummed expensive cigarettes, I wrote John Steinbeck's books, Pug sings, before he answers, these days I'm not so sure.
