By DCist contributor Graham Hough-Cornwell

Perhaps you recall the scene from the questionably credible but always engrossing rock doc Dig! where Courtney Taylor of the Dandy Warhols starts talking about how touring – with its requisite marathon drives, partying, and gas station food – can kill a band. He’s talking about the ever-so fragile Brian Jonestown Massacre specifically, but their perpetual demise in the film isn’t exactly new territory in the topsy-turvy world of rock and roll.

So it’s always with a little trepidation, then, that you see one of your favorite bands line up a 62 date tour that zig-zags across the country. That Boise veterans Built to Spill were currently in the middle of a run of 12 shows in 12 nights – itself part of a run that sees them have exactly three days off in over a month – was worrisome. But BTS aren’t GNR, and you get the feeling from leader Doug Martsch – who, despite his huge beard, tall frame, and sunken eyes is about as shy as they come – that their tour riders prominently feature chamomile.

This created a stark contrast with their music on the night. On previous albums Keep It Like A Secret and Perfect From Now On, when tracks pushed past the five minute mark, they were often songs within songs, shifting through a number of melodic guises before returning home for some kind of impassioned finale. Their latest release, You in Reverse, takes the band one step further. I may be loath to admit it, but what we now have here is a jam band.

From what I understand, jam band devotees hate when people confuse bands that simply play long songs with those who truly improvise. I say a jam’s a jam however you slice it, and, if that’s what you came to hear last night, you probably went home happy. If five dudes in old t-shirts staring at their effects pedals pounding out 9 minute versions of 4 minute songs isn’t your thing, you’ve probably already posted your tickets for Tuesday’s second show on Craigslist.

I fall somewhere in between, much like (I’m guessing) most of the crowd last night. They’re a tight band, rising and descending together, and Doug Martsch still takes some fantastic solos. Few concert moments of the past year could touch the spiraling punk peaks of “Carry the Zero” or the bounce and punch of “Conventional Wisdom”, the best track from their newest album. Hell, the setlist alone was a crowd-pleaser.

Unfortunately the band struggled to maintain this kind of momentum through every track. I wandered off halfway through “Untrustable”, typical crowd pleaser “Strange” sounded loose and flat until the solo, and “Broken Chairs”, at what must have been 15 minutes, was just gratuitous. I doubt if anyone there would say they sounded even occasionally “bad”, because they never did, but there’s probably just a good chance you were occasionally bored.

I actually had the pleasure of seeing Doug Martsch on a solo tour, just before his only solo release, Now You Know, came out in 2002. He played bass for the opening act, helped put away their equipment, and then grabbed two acoustics, sat on a stool wearing a heavy black parka, and played one of the more engaging sets I’ve ever seen. Re-interpreting full-band workouts like “Kicked It in the Sun” and “Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss”, it was easy to hear that, below the immaculate overdubs and studio sheen, he had some damn fine songs to sing. You’d never call him a confident guy (I might even go with “meek”), but he had confidence that what he’d written could stand alone.

Maybe the band was little fatigued, or maybe Martsch’s voice was struggling – he did leave out a number of key vocal parts, like the reprise of “This history lesson / doesn’t make any sense” bit from “The Plan”. Whatever the reason, last night the jams wore a little thin, and the band seemed to forget that their best assets aren’t necessarily their loudest ones.

SETLIST:

Traces / The Plan / Distopian Dream Girl / Nowhere Nothin F***up / Goin’ Against Your Mind / Untrustable / New Song / Reasons / Conventional Wisdom / Strange / Bombshelter Part 2 / Stop the Show / Carry the Zero // Broken Chairs