With the cut fat out, the 70-minute All Theory and No Action would be about 45 minutes long. The trouble is, Egon don't know when, or perhaps how, to finish a song. They often soar through their choruses three or four times ("Stitches"), or go into bass and drum breakdowns worthy of a grade school coffeehouse ("Tina Lizardo"). That kind of uncertainty is dangerous -- the sort of indulgence that could easily lead to filler abuse.

The worst offenders, "Tina Lizardo" and the nine-minute "Self Proclaimers", sound as if multiple knives were taken to the CD, causing it to skip back to the chorus ad infinitum. The group makes up for this -- somewhat -- by including a more succinct remix of "Tina Lizardo" at the end of the disc, cutting almost two minutes of love-handle off of the song. Without the Taco Bell and Oreos present, Egon's vision becomes clear: their progressive, pop-inflected style is unique, but often, confused and uncertain. Victor Talamantes's vocals range from Modest Mouse twang ("Blameful Ones") to Pedro the Lion drone ("Stitches"); he's a powerful performer when he wants to be, but as the songs grind onwards, he begins to sound like a guy who's lost in a maze.

When Egon's songwriting gene kicks in, All Theory and No Action is quickly salvaged. "On the Rebound" and "On Thin Ice" are succinct, purposeful and fully realized, with none of the dog-chasing-its-tail desperation of earlier tracks. "Self Avoidance" sails through melodic waves, bolstered by a tender, honest-sounding piano accompaniment. Closer "Self Proclaimers" defines the future for Egon with interwoven guitar, piano and vocal melodies: detailed and involving, it's the climax of a flawed but worthy endeavor.

All Theory blooms late, but the fact that it gets on its feet at all is impressive. As the band says in "Stitches", "Every dog has its day. Every day has its dog." All Theory has its dogs, but it also begins the start of a pleasant day -- and a pleasant future for Egon.