Over the course of the year, I had the privilege of seeing a few of my favorite bands from my youth in small, intimate rooms. There was a time when live music was a weekly ritual for me, but like most things, life shifted, and those priorities changed.
So when Built To Spill announced a show in Woodstock, New York, I didn’t hesitate. Some opportunities don’t wait to be overthought.
Doug Martsch’s vocals and storytelling weaved themselves into my music catalog over the years. You see, I have been a Built to Spill fan for over 25 years, and even though his music would fade in and out of rotation, it was never out of reach. Whether I was making playlists or finding the right vibe for a long ride, there was a song or album just waiting for me.
Standing in the crowd, watching Doug and his band tear through the set, I was struck by how controlled and unforced it all felt. Decades of work were visible in the restraint, the confidence, the absence of excess. This was someone who knew exactly who he was on stage. His musical journey and road to success was not always easy and paved with gold, but the raw passion and connection to his craft is what allowed him to do what he loves for so long. In an interview with Salt Lake Magazine, Doug put words to something I’ve been unpacking myself:
“When you’re young, you’re figuring out what you can do and what limits to push, who you want to sound like. At my age, I know what my limitations are and what I sound like.”
That idea landed hard. I’ve lived much like a chameleon, not blending in, but evolving in cycles. Growth, for me, has meant recognizing when a skin no longer fits and having the courage to shed it. Some people seem locked into a forever skin. Others change without ever realizing it happened.
I’ve always been an artist, even as my mediums shifted with the environments I found myself in. Life didn’t pass me by. I was fully in it. But my commitment to creating often took a back seat. Realizing that was the turning point. I didn’t want passion to be something I revisited. I wanted it to be something I practiced.
It was with intent and focus that I knew I was ready to shed another skin and begin a new era of creating. Writing brings me immense joy, not just for the therapeutic reasons I often speak of but also the connection it fosters with friends and strangers.
Whether I’m writing poetry in a journal, songs for a band, or documenting an emotion that was revealed inside of me during a long motorcycle ride, I, too, have begun to understand one’s limitations. Going forward, my life will be shaped by more intention, fewer excuses, and a clearer understanding of my own limits. Writing brings me joy not just as therapy, but as a form of connection.
And if I’ve learned anything, it’s this: Built To Spill will always be part of the soundtrack of a life well lived.
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