Built to Spill’s Martsch’s performance low key

Spencer Patterson

Tuesday, May 27, 2003 | 8:25 a.m.

Doug Martsch could easily have been mistaken for a road tech as he shuffled onstage and began tweaking his guitar equipment Sunday night at the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay.

Casually dressed in a gray T-shirt and loose-fitting brown slacks, the balding, bearded 34-year-old from Boise arrived with little fanfare, stepping out to the noncurtained stage area nearly unnoticed.

A few diehard fans near the front spotted him and cheered. Two even had him autograph mementos for them.

But it wasn't until several minutes later -- when Martsch nodded to his three Built to Spill bandmates, stepped forward and began to play his instrument -- that most in the crowd of around 650 realized they were in the presence of guitar greatness.

Not in the technical wizardry sense; Martsch is no Joe Satriani, fingers racing up and down the fretboard in record time.

Martsch's credentials are less in-your-face, but no less impressive: a decade of consistently imaginative songwriting and an approach to the guitar that combines elements of classic rock, prog rock and the blues, with space left over for a bit of improvisation.

Top it off with a unique voice and Martsch has all the makings of David Gilmour or Pete Townshend.

Except that Martsch does absolutely nothing to promote his reputation, apart from release quality music and tour the nation's college towns.

While playing, the unassuming indie rocker gazes mainly at his instrument or his feet. He doesn't do windmills, go behind his back or subscribe to rock star poses in general, unless you count going up on tiptoes when singing his high notes.

Martsch doesn't switch instruments endlessly. He played just one guitar on Sunday. And his between-song banter is usually limited to thanking the audience, as in a surprised-sounding "Wow, thanks," in response to the round of applause after opening number "Three Years Ago Today."

Built to Spill also rarely does encores, and on Sunday night it was clear why. Rather than leave the stage for several minutes, only to return and continue, Martsch announced his band would play two more songs, then got back to work, capping the 90-minute performance before waving and leaving for good.

Ably backed by bassist Scott Nelson, drummer Scott Plouf and second guitarist Jim Roth, Martsch made sure Built to Spill's Las Vegas debut was a memorable one, wisely constructing a set list that could satisfy longtime fans while serving as a primer for the uninitiated.

Between albums at the moment, the band culled songs from its five studio discs, along with a track from its odds-and-ends compilation, a song from Martsch side project the Halo Benders, a Built to Spill rarity and one cover.

Included were three of the outfit's stone-cold indie classics, "Big Dipper," "In the Morning" and "Joyride," all of which demonstrated Martsch's unconventional lyrical style.

At times, the words are easy enough to understand. From "Joyride": "Love is just a joyride, drink a lot of beer and climb inside, lay your foot down on the gas, leave it there until you crash."

Other times, meanings aren't so clear. From "Stab": "I've got a mind, I've got half a mind, to shut down the whole system at the spine, with fishing line."

Martsch also steered Built to Spill into far trippier territory, longer pieces such as "Stop the Show" and "Kicked It in the Sun," each featuring several distinct song segments and tempos that frequently change.

The clincher was the closer, a howling rendition of Neil Young's "Cortez the Killer" that burned brightly for its full 18-minute duration. Martsch's vocal style is not all that dissimilar from Young's, somewhat nasal overall, yet strangely appealing.

Although concerts laden with new material tend to lose their audience's focus, this one actually could have benefited from one or two unfamiliar compositions. A few of Built to Spill's older songs sounded a bit stale, while a new arrangement of 2001's "Strange" and an unexpected rendition of "Now & Then" -- available only as a B-side obscurity -- bristled with newfound energy.

It also wouldn't have been a bad idea for Martsch to play one of the many requests rained down on the group by their devoted following, one a frequent crow-like call for the unheard "Car" from one woman near the back.

Otherwise, there was little room for complaint. Quality opening sets by Tucson trio the Solace Bros. and Boise ensemble Draw added to the experience for those who arrived early, easily making the $15 bill one of the year's best values.