Throw down the reins and get out the shovel for this overly soft tip-toe through meadow muffins. Heres my vote for "most misrepresented album of 2004." They may have adorned their cover with a macho, mud-splattered, log-hauling semi-trailer and given themselves a nigh-Pantera name, but Panurge is just a hay-scented heap o prettily confused jangle-rock.
Approaching their recent material in not-yet-weaned (or Ween-ed) electronic baby steps, this trio of club-going Vancouverites presents a blurry snapshot of an album that lacks the linear tonality of their previous releases Erectangle and Pythagorhythms. From the chilly floral patterns of "Ginny and The Flower Man" to the stately pomp of "Thirty Silver," Panurge attempt to weave their popish silliness into a tapestry of spinning colour, but sadly fall asleep at the wheel, running the whole rig off the blacktop and over the embankment into obscurity.