Built To Spill Keeps It like a Secret

Ev-ry-body…  everybody knows… that one of the most significant rock ‘n’ roll moments of the young century occurred in 2005, when Modest Mouse’s “Float On” was bastardized by a choir of soulless children for a Kidz Bop compilation. Never before had such a beloved, previously unmarketable indie-rock band wandered this far into the heart of darkness — beyond Garden State, straight into that wildly profitable niche market of toddlers and the parents who obey them. If Modest Mouse could reach this level of crossover success, anyone could. 

“Well, I don't know that I could,” says Doug Martsch, soft-spoken leader of indie rock's original kings of the Great Northwest, Built To Spill. “I couldn't write a hit if I wanted to. I'm just not that kind of songwriter. You know, I only stumble across things and play what comes naturally to me.” 

Still, after 15 years of critical adulation and exhaustive touring, Martsch isn’t averse to considering the potential consequences of trading his band’s cultdom for stardom. 

“There’s things about it that would be good and things that would be bad, of course,” he says, initially sounding a tad doubtful about the premise. The truth is, many of the necessary ingredients for a breakout Built To Spill record are already in place. 

For one thing, BTS is backed by the deep pockets of Warner Brothers Records, the major label that ironically helped the group become one of the quintessential “indie” bands of the modern era. It also wasn't that long ago that Martsch — Boise, Idaho's greatest musical export — was playing big brother to the boys in Modest Mouse as the two bands invented Northwestern indie rock — a sound  now raking in the dough for the likes of The Shins and Band of Horses. All things considered, Built To Spill seems almost destined for greater success, rather than unfit for it. Martsch, however, isn't necessarily cool with everything that a “Float On” caliber hit single might bring. 

“I would be embarrassed to have my song shoved down people’s throats for months and months, where they can’t turn around without having to see my face,” he says. “Then there’s the repercussions of what happens after that. You go on tour, and all of the sudden there’s a bunch of 11- and 12 year-olds at your show. And in a way, that’s kind of cool, but they’ll probably be bored all show long until you play your hit, and then they’ll all jump around. And then you get your backlash of people that really liked you, being bummed out that you’ve become this thing, and it costs too much money to go to your shows. So there’s all those things that sound horrible, but the trade-off is that you get a bunch of money. So… that would be pretty nice.” 

Listening to Martsch's speaking voice is a bit like discovering where Waldo has been hiding. In the midst of Built To Spill’s colorful landscape of swirling slide guitars, psychedelics, and occasional manic intensity, Martsch has always been the gentle, earnest axis around which everything else revolves. As a vocalist, he twists conversational language into complex anthems. Just when you think you've got him pegged, chances are, you missed the point entirely. 

“Ev-ry-body . . . everybody knows,” is the repeated verse to “You Are,” a beautiful song from Built To Spill’s 2001 album, Ancient Melodies of the Future. “Everybody knows that you . . . that you . . . are —” Martsch never finishes the line, but when the melody crescendos into its wordless chorus of soaring guitars, you could almost swear it was a love song. 

“With ‘You Are,’ the original lyrics were actually something like ‘everybody knows that 99 percent of everyone is an idiot