It’s worth unpacking this Austin-based band’s odd name because it gives some insight into their situation. Like all indie bands, they’re crippled by the pegleg of inadequate distribution (Peglegasus records on the Mad Entropic Carnival label). Yet they aspire to tame the winged horse Pegasus; they want to create poetry.
I ought to like Peglegasus more than I do. They’ve certainly got the chops. In concert they cover everything, from Rush to Captain Beefheart to The Who. Tired of Adventures even starts off with a pumped up Britpop-punk song about a scuba diver that might have been a Buzzcocks outtake. On “The Soup Was Mine” they sound like early Talking Heads. Throughout, they show themselves capable of Marquee Moon-era Television guitar work. These guys are talented and their heads are in the right place.
But I just can’t get excited about this record. Maybe it’s the instrumentals in the middle of the album. A quiet piano and acoustic guitar number like “Fleas ‘96,” replete with rain and thunder sound effects, is pretty and well-played, but so what? Maybe it’s the cover of Jethro Tull’s “To Cry You a Song.” Maybe it’s just that I’m more impressed by the musicianship than moved by it.
At 33 minutes and 13 songs, Tired of Adventures is far from self-indulgent, but, like its equally clever predecessors—So Much for King Tut and Bacon, Lettuce & Tornado—this one is probably also doomed to vanish without making much of a splash. So much for poetry.
// Notes from the Road
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