Testing out new festival grounds at the Palmer Events Center, Levitation’s three-day rock lineup presents headliners Pavement, TV on the Radio, and Mastodon, plus plenty of subgenre-spanning acts. Shuffling over from Halloween weekend to the other side of ACL, the Austin Psych Fest companion, booked by Resound, takes place Sept. 26-28 across an indoor and outdoor stage, plus a smattering of individually ticketed late-night shows across town.
Ahead of the fest, the Chronicle talked to Sunday night’s Pavement accomplice Built to Spill and up-and-coming Mexico City group Diles que no me maten.
Doug Martsch has writer’s block. The primary mastermind behind Nineties indie rock outfit Built to Spill isn’t sure why, but he’s not too put out about it. He likes playing the songs he’s already written.
Still, as we chat on the phone, Martsch – in his kitchen in Boise, where the air is already cooling off – meanders around the conundrum, pacing through potential explanations with gentle curiosity.
“The trick to making songs for me was to mess around on your guitar and then come up with something that seems interesting,” he says. “I don’t know if it’s [that] my taste in music has changed, or – I don’t know what it is, but I just have a hard time telling if something is good or if it’s worth pursuing.”
Behind his affable tone and stoned disposition, you can hear that it bothers him a little, but more like the tug of an unfinished puzzle than a denunciation of his creative ability – something Martsch has never pretended to herald in the first place.
“I think some people might have a way more original thing going on than I do,” the artist says, as self-effacing as his lyrical character. “I’m pretty traditional. I grew up with FM radio and got into punk rock as a teenager, and then Dinosaur [Jr.] to me was kind of the pinnacle of punk and pop coming together.”
Since Built to Spill formed in 1992, Martsch and a rotating cast of musicians have followed that trajectory, merging catchy melodies and distortion-heavy guitars. Wondering if his songwriting start might spark something for him now, I ask if he remembers the first song he ever wrote.
“No,” he says, with the slow lilt of a question mark. “I don’t.” Then, he laughs. “You know that that laugh means that I remember it, but I’m not gonna tell you at all.”
“Since the pandemic, I’ve taken every opportunity [to tour], not knowing when this is gonna go away again.” – Built to Spill’s Doug Martsch
2022’s When the Wind Forgets Your Name, recorded with Lê Almeida and João Casaes of the Brazilian jazz-rock outfit Oruã, is full of distinctly new sounds for the project – like an alien-landing panned feedback outro and dystopian psychedelic organ grooves – yet it resists reinvention. Largely comprising songs Martsch has been troubling over for years, the work is replete with his simply stated philosophical yearnings and staple circuitous melodies.
The temporary trio wrapped up When the Wind Forgets Your Name during the pandemic and, once touring restrictions were lifted, Martsch hit the road. Playing his discography keeps the songs fresh for this simplicity-driven songwriter. He’s been adamant to other interviewers that there’s nothing nostalgic about the music for him – it’s very much alive.
Which, now that he thinks about it, might be part of the dry spell too. He’s been touring a lot, now with Melanie Radford (Blood Lemon) on bass and Teresa Esguerra, of fellow Boise act Prism Bitch, on drums.
“We didn’t tour a bunch for years and years because we didn’t wanna go out too much and we didn’t wanna oversaturate the market,” Martsch explains. “But since the pandemic, I’ve taken every opportunity, not knowing when this is gonna go away again.”
Off the road, he catches local shows in the ever-growing Boise scene, manages Built to Spill, shoots some hoops, and tackles the pile of household tasks that loom in all of our corners. Maybe all that day-to-day business is what’s keeping him from new material, he muses. As we speak, he’s installing a new fridge by himself. All of his perishables are out on the counter. Even the box this fridge came in recommends two people for the job, but Martsch has muscled through plenty on his own and, just like this bout of writer’s block, he’s pretty sure he can handle it.
“I have a lot of things that are still works in progress that maybe someday I’ll be able to finish up,” Martsch says. “I definitely don’t think I’m done. I’m not quitting.”
Levitation takes over the Palmer Events Center September 26-28.
This article appears in September 26 • 2025.
