Artist bio

Where is the Horse and the Rider? Where is the Horn that was blowing? They have passed like Rain on the Mountains, Like Wind in the Meadows. The Days have gone down in the West, Behind the Hills, Into Shadow. How did it come to this?

- King Theoden

At the risk of vaporizing NATN’s credibility and dignity in a single stanza, I begin this review with a passage from the pages of Tolkien – or more accurately, a passage from the script of the second “Lord of the Rings” movie. You probably think it odd to begin a Built To Spill review with a quote from “Lord of the Rings” and, of course, you are right. You may also think it highly geeky and sort of silly, and, again, you are correct, sir. I’m going to write a whole lot of words here about this scene and this quote and “Lord of the Rings” stuff and, I admit, its tangential rubbish, at best.

But unfortunately, I just can’t help myself. First of all, I love that movie, that scene, that fucking quote. More importantly, though, Built To Spill’s new album almost dares me to quote it. It’s hard to explain, but I think it’s just about self-indulgence. Perhaps it’s something in Doug’s lyrics, in his long guitar solos, in the production work, the layers of guitars, and also something related to his band’s current state of affairs. Anyway, when I listen to this music, I feel the epic Tolkien imagery flowing in my veins…

And me likee.

As I sit here, listening to this album, trying to write this review, I wonder, when did self-indulgence become and art form and I why am I such a sucker for it? Or as Theoden says, “How did it come to this?”

Oh you thought I might I drop the LOTR shtick and jump right into an honest review? Come on! I’m just getting warmed up with the analogies! And the exclamation points!

First, let me give you the scene summary so that you can (maybe) follow my line to the end of the review. The above character – a king, you see – is nearly broken. Enemy forces – mutant, hybrid Orc enemy forces – surround his town, multiplying in number and clamoring for the taste of “man flesh,” while the King’s soldiers, many of them mere children, gear up for certain death. If they fail, their loss will signal the downfall of human kind and usher in an era of never-ending evil and darkness. King Theoden is a strong man, but his will is fading. In these above lines, he concedes that apocalyptic extinction is inevitable and mourns for those he’s assumed (wrongly) are already dead.

The actor that plays Theoden – the very stately Bernard Hill – plays the scene with utmost gravity and gives the lines a reading that befits the film’s epic tenor:

“How did it come to this?” he asks.

Unfortunately, the italics really don’t really cut it. Bernard paces the line slowly, you see, dividing it into three, distinct sections, that aren’t easily translated to paper.

How.

Did it come.

To this.

In my indie rock loserdom, I picture Built To Spill’s Doug Martsch, sitting in a castle somewhere in Idaho, right now, beginning a similar monologue:

How did it come to this?

It’s been nine years (nearly a decade!) since Built To Spill released its monumental Perfect From Now On, an album that delivered the sonic equivalent of Peter Jackson’s 12-hour, CGI-borne odyssey in under an hour minutes. And, to think, it was a major label debut! That sort of A-grade self-indulgence, on a major-label debut?

Astounding.

Given my weakness for this sort of thing, I went ape shit for the album, played it constantly in NATN’s birthplace, as did my partner in crime, Mr. Carpenter. To think back to that excitement we had listening to that record, it’s like we believed in Doug Martsch and Built To Spill or something. Believed what? I am not sure. But, again, there was a promise in the music. On opener “Randy Describes Eternity,” Martsch sings, “I’m gonna be perfect from now on, I’m gonna be perfect starting now,” his whining voice stretching, “now” into four beats.

Nooooooooooow.

Maybe that’s what I believed. That Built To Spill would be perfect hence forth. It was okay then – at least, among my friends – to have that notion that these fellas were working toward infallibility, especially in light of the band’s previous record, which offered additional proof of their rock godliness. But of course that notion was wrong, and not just because the band is comprised of humans. I built these guys up in my head a little too much, placed my expectations up dangerously high for what would follow.

Built To Spill, indeed.

The follow-up to Perfect From Now On wasn’t bad (I liked it quite a bit), but it was disappointing to some. I remember a friend saying he felt like the album missed something the older ones had. He said something about the feeling you have when you’re at a good party and then too many people start showing up and suddenly the party doesn’t seem as good any more. Or so I remember.

Things truly got bad for me personally with Ancient Melodies Of The Future, an album I predicted correctly would never be played in my house again. I can’t even name a song on it.

After that, came nothingness. A solo album by Doug, I think.

So it’s been seven years since these guys have put out an album I like and look what’s happened since then. Bands like Modest Mouse and Death Cab for Cutie – groups that came out of the same Northwest indie rock era that birthed BTS – are now Billboard-charting, indie-to-major success stories. Modest Mouse gets played on MTV – they don’t even play music on MTV anymore. I mean, for the love of San Pedro, Ben Gibbard has a side-project people care about. Meanwhile Doug Martsch tears his retina playing basketball and cancels the band’s summer tour.

What the fuck?

I thought Doug was going to perfect from now on. I thought he was the bionic man or some shit. Cleary, I focused on the wrong lyrics. Maybe I should have kept in mind Doug’s mentality from “Car,” where he sings, “If I don’t die or worse, I’m gonna need a nap. At best, I’ll be asleep when you get back.” Then maybe my expectations would have been in the right place; then maybe, I’d be really into this new album.

When I first listened to “Goin’ Against Your Mind,” the first song on You In Reverse, there was a prick of real excitement. Like other great BTS songs, it starts off with a great drum beat, this one more up-tempo than most, and then the song takes form as the layers of guitars and bass and more guitars come streaming in. After the long, driving opening, the song takes flight into the verses and (semi-irritating) chorus, turns left into a near-ambient middle section, and pushes hard into its stunning final third, where Doug unleashes a new a moaning guitar tone.

“Goin’ Against Your Mind” is unquestionably the best song on the record – a nine-minute rain of jam – but not the only good one. In fact, the first three songs are all pretty stellar, each calling to mind other great songs from the band’s past. While the opener is pure Perfect From Now On jammyness – reminiscent of “Stop the Show” – “Traces” and “Liar” call to mind the dreamy poppyness of “Reasons” and “Car.” Doug strikes a better balance with this record than he did with Ancient Melodies, pairing the longer jams with the radio-ready pop interludes. The range is refreshing but sadly there’s not much new to hear here.

On songs like “Saturday” and “Wherever You Go,” I start to get really bored. And though the other highlights are still highlights, the album’s recycled vibe sometimes makes it difficult to admire the bright spots. Listen to “Conventional Wisdom” and notice how the song spends roughly four minutes going through previously released vocal melodies before getting to the extended guitar excursion. As a result, the music is exhausting.

Six of 10 songs here are over five minutes long. That’s not a bad thing if it was all fresh. Maybe it’s that BTS's sound is not as easy to mutate and re-formulate. After all, what is this band without Doug's creaky voice and blown-guitar fuzz? Therefore monotony becomes an issue. It’s a problem that similar bands (My Morning Jacket, Wilco, and Modest Mouse) have all struggled through, but Built To Spill seem to be especially cursed. On songs like “Gone,” BTS does it’s best to bust up the boredom with sudden song shifts and some good organ work (thanks, Sam Coomes), but it comes up short – at least according to my expectations.

On “Traces,” Doug notes, "You do your best to avoid assimilation -- guess that's the best you can do." Maybe this really is the best they can do. And maybe they are going to do it again and again and maybe sometimes we’ll get a couple really great songs and maybe see a really great rock show. Maybe I should focus on that last part. I’m excited to see the band wander live on the dream sequence of “Goin’ Against Your Mind,” and bang out punk-rock riffage of “Mess With Time” on stage, even if it sucks that I have to wait until later this year to see it.

But sadly, it’s just not the same. The thrill as gone, as they say, passed, “like rain on the mountains.” And moreover, I know exactly how it came to this. Though it may be wrong of me, I sometimes want my rock stars to be bigger than life, supernatural in ability, perfect from now on. But we all know – especially in the case of these guys and their ilk – that’s a lost hope. There will be no horn blowing, no triumphant return, just a couple of guys jamming endlessly on the same riffs in front of a loyal audience willing to listen for a couple hours. On a nice autumn evening, it could be quite good.

BEN FRENCH | Ben founded NATN in the winter of 1998-1999 with fellow IU alums Troy Carpenter and Jonathan Cohen. During the day time, he's working for Nielsen Business Media, publisher of Billboard. Ben's favorite acts include Bruce Springsteen, The Clash, Sonic Youth, Elvis Costello, Talking Heads, Rolling Stones, and the Beach Boys.