Last Thursday, indie-rock heroes Built to Spill graced the intimate confines of the Barrymore Theater and played what lead man Doug Martsch alleged was their debut act in Madison. Originally slated for last spring, the original show was postponed due to a critical eye injury that Martsch had sustained in a game of pickup basketball — apparently he's a passionate hoops enthusiast. The Idaho-based quintet delivered mightily on their maiden Mad-town appearance though, and confirmed their reputed status as a live act of forceful, mercurial rock.
The underground trio Helvetia opened the show and offered up a short collection of expectedly tepid and uneven songs. Even the skillful rhythm section could not overcome the progressionless drone and lackluster vocals that saddled much of the set. The crowd graciously applauded their attempts, but the teeming anticipation for the headliners was more pronounced.
Built to Spill took the stage soon after Helvetia's departure and, in the course of the next 90-plus minutes, put on an aurally raucous, yet spirited and melodic performance. Heavy on charging guitars and thick waves of distortion, the 14-song set consisted of a pleasing balance between the band's four finest albums — There's Nothing Wrong With Love, Perfect From Now On, Keep It Like a Secret and their most recent release, You In Reverse.
The dreamy opener, "Liar," off Reverse, started the night on something of an aberrational note. Its warm, flowing guitar-work contrasted markedly with the piercing jams that were to dominate subsequent songs. However, despite its subdued vibe, "Liar" established one precedent that would highlight the entirety of the show: the sheer and full-bodied sound of Martsch's rich vocals. Somehow unobstructed by the lead man's mammoth beard, Martsch's voice conjured up a remarkable range of moods and emotion — sometimes troubled and accusatory, other times upbeat and spiritual, but always resonant.
The set was consciously structured to be a prolonged showcase for Martsch's wizard guitar schemes, complemented by the work of his longtime cohorts Brett Netson and Jim Roth. On "Goin' Against Your Mind," their dueling arrangements cohered into an explosive guitar blend that jabbed and crackled for a near 10-minute span. Two soaring numbers from 1997's Perfect From Now On boasted similar thrills. On "Randy Describes Eternity," inspired by a Sunday school lesson from Martsch's youth, the trembling leads progressed from their initial delicate plucking and swelled into a burst of spacey swirls and electric jolts. Additionally, the fractured song structure of "Untrustable/Part 2" enabled its epic guitars to abruptly shift course, crash into various bridges, and then reach a string of climaxes.
Amid this expansive sound, the individual members of Built to Spill played their parts with surprising calm. Scarce animation, stylistic pyrotechnics and, for that matter, personality were on display. Bassist Brett Nelson (not to be confused with Brett Netson) was the most detached as he was positioned behind the three guitarists and quite casually worked his notes. Likewise, drummer Scott Plouf rarely altered his expression and appeared content with anchoring the rhythms like a duty-bound technician of his work.
A quiet charm emanated from Martsch. He endeared himself to the receptive crowd with terse and high-pitched thanks after each song and, when he revealed that his mom lives in Madison, many fans gave an approving applaud. The focus, however, lay intently on the music.
The moodiness of certain cuts was countered by the radiant pop of others, especially that of "Big Dipper" and "Dystopian Dream Girl" — both songs from 1994's There's Nothing Wrong With Love. The live performances retained the sunny catchiness of each song but also augmented the solos and expanded the guitar patterns. The great success of this trick was surprisingly replicated on "Conventional Wisdom," the lead single off Reverse. Delivered live, this rollicking yet unassuming number transformed into a scorcher of manic distortion and twitchy riffs.
The performance, as a whole, was a splendid display of indie-rock grandeur, but it did have its lesser moments. The strangest and most unnerving of these came when the band put on a failed political stunt. In place of Martsch's vocals, a projection screen played a video featuring Calvin Johnson (a friend and ex-bandmate of Martsch) who went into a spoken-word, partisan diatribe that denounced the Bush administration and oddly appeared to endorse eco-terrorism. Politics aside, it was simply a campy production (although the lulling music that buttressed it was highly evocative). For the rest of the set, the same projection screen showed a needless and forgettable loop of abstract art.
These slip-ups were not of a lasting quality. What remained with those in attendance was the rushing glee that occasioned every stoned-out jam and spacey solo. The closing encore, "Broken Chairs," featured these in spades: dark, Neil Young-esque guitars and spiraling shots of distortion subsumed the comparatively meek opening sequence and played on until the Barrymore Theater was beset with exhaustion. Built to Spill easily could have pressed on. Even during the set's climax, the band performed with relative dispassion, like dedicated craftsmen with little to prove.
