Built to Jam

What is it with aging indie rockers and their incessant need to jam? I have always been aware of the jam possibilities when electric guitars are put in the hands of creative, artistic people, but sometimes the jamming can go too far. I've even been blown away by ten-minute flourishes out of what is a three-minute song on record now and again, but enough is enough.

First there was the Stephen Malkmus album. You may recall that I gave the record a rather unsavory review (well, it wasn't that harsh) recently. SM's Real Emotional Trash is riddled with classic-rock style solos and ten-minute opuses. This is coming from a man whose first band didn't practice, live in the same city, and rarely finished a song much less turn it into "Freebird".

Then, there was the show last night at the Blue Note. One of my other indie rock heroes, Doug Martsch, brought his army of guitarists to the stage. The set started off well enough. He mixed the old with the new and rarely veered too far from the songs' original structures. It was pretty business-like and was absent the Reggae vibe in their last show at the Note.

Martsch was never much of a showman and last night didn't change my opinion. I will say though that his personality comes out more in a small club, not a venue as large as the Blue Note. He mostly played through the set in a straightforward manner, pausing periodically to tune, thank the openers, and grab a drink of water.

What he does do, though, is play a mean guitar. He is maybe the only true guitar hero of the indie world, even if he is unassuming and somewhat shy onstage. He doesn't toss the guitar in the air or do bicycle kicks, but he plays the instrument like few other musicians can.

But with the good comes the bad.

I remember being pleasantly surprised that Built to Spill hadn't really gone into any extended jams through the entire set. Then, it happened. Without warning, the encore turned into a 15-minute-and-running, feedback-happy test of my patience. (I only wrote that the song lasted 15 minutes because I didn't stay to hear the end.) The song was so long that I had forgotten what it was when it started. This jam didn't ruin the night for me, but it did put a damper on the experience.

Why do aging indie rockers have to jam? Do they all have a little Jerry Garcia sitting on one shoulder urging them to extend the song into tomorrow? Conversely, is there a little Bob Pollard telling musicians to stop the song and get on with the next?

Indie rock evolving into jam sessions only sullies the genre's reputation. The ten-minute guitar solo represents the excess indie rock has always strived to stamp out. DIY doesn't stand for "Done In a Year". Let's get back to the perfect two-minute songs of Minutemen and Guided by Voices. Let's get economical and cram twenty-four songs on a thirty-minute LP. Aging indie rockers, you know you want to.

Other than my crabbiness over a concert-ending jam, the show was a nice diversion from my misery over tOSU not making the NCAA. The first band whose name escapes me (That long encore did a number on me.) was passable and played a concise yet effective set. Really old indie rockers Meat Puppets played all the songs I knew from their days following Nirvana around, hoping for some scraps. And I discovered that my new earplugs are the greatest inventions ever. I could clearly hear the music and not have to deal with ringing directly after the show.