Since its 1992 inception, Built to Spill has been captained by Doug Martsch, whether as its constant or sole member. Over much of the Boise band’s career, its output has centred around Martsch’s intricate guitar work, downplayed in the grand scheme of silly rock virtuosity, and his caustic style of slacker singing, not as talky-singy as Stephen Malkmus, but thereabouts.
I’d happily class Martsch as a Tom Verlaine for the post-post-punk era (the first “post” actually meaning “succeeding”). In no way has he ever been showy; he’s an alternative rocker and his commitment to musicianship is alternative. If Built to Spill isn’t one of the biggest influences on alternative bands who quietly care about their skillset, that’s a damn shame, because they certainly deserve to be.
Under the Built to Spill name, Doug Martsch started releasing music in 1993, and continues to do so today. He has amassed ten albums. Many of them are slam-dunks, including a certain three-album run in the ‘90s that is often cited as one of the very best in alternative rock. These albums are animated and vivacious despite their slacker tag; meaningful and direct, personable, weird.
Shall we rank them? Ah, that’s what society has come to expect, so why not?
#10 – Built to Spill Plays the Songs of Daniel Johnston (2020)
After playing a couple of shows with Daniel Johnston, Doug Martsch decided to pay tribute. Built to Spill Plays the Songs of Daniel Johnston is like a private show or rehearsal session, made “for us and our friends” rather than Built to Spill fans, or anyone at all expecting a Built to Spill album. That’s what makes it the worst Built to Spill album; it doesn’t even sound like ‘Built to Spill does Daniel Johnston’, more a strip-away of what makes either party so joyed, until all that’s left is the very basic fundamentals. These songs are hushed and restrained, Doug’s voice is echoey and high. Covering these songs – many of which are ‘90s-onwards Daniel material – already meant we wouldn’t be getting Doug’s usual loquacious style, but there was no reason for the instrumentation itself to be so mild-mannered or underplayed.
If nothing else, Doug has remarkable taste in Daniel Johnston songs, but what’s the point when your renditions are as sleepy as Honey I Sure Miss You, or as irritatingly light as Bloody Rainbow, despite the bounce in its rhythm. The strings of Life in Vain are sorely missed. The band just tries to ease its way through, like it’s just a song written by some guy, and not one of the best songs written by one of the best guys, or one of the most personable songs written by one of the most personable guys. They do turn it into a bit of an uptempo ‘bop’, so there’s an effort of sorts, but it still sounds plain. The original version of Fish was such a big, fuzzy fish, but this one, much like everything else, shoves its arm down its throat and drags its own energy and viscera out.
It’s not all bad; there is a lil’ bit of lightning in the leads of Good Morning You, and Fake Records of Rock & Roll matches the quaint, hard-rocking spirit of the original, even if Doug’s voice has even more difficulty keeping up as Daniel’s did at that point in his life. His is incredibly muffled, another excuse for certain melodies to go undetected – you’ll miss Daniel’s voice.
A light-hearted covers album also means we’re not putting as much care into the production – the bass sounds horrible. I know, I know; it’s possible to just accept Plays the Songs of Daniel Johnston as a one-off bit of recreation, one that didn’t require a big heart or big precision, but I don’t think its carefree ethos works in its favour. Built to Spill may have been having fun, but it really doesn’t sound like it.
Best tracks – Good Morning You – Fake Records of Rock & Roll.
#9 – Untethered Moon (2015)
Untethered Moon is the closest Doug Martsch has come to simply coming out of the woodwork, saying hi, punching the clock. The unexpectedness of its release could’ve been reflected by a new wildness, when in fact, it was akin to somebody you haven’t seen for a while walking by, maybe wearing a slightly different hat than you’re accustomed to seeing. The album itself is a deviation, but there is not much deviation within; not great when the core sound is less fluid than usual, instead relying on the darker, rockier atmospheres of Boise in order to paint a picture. It is the maturer Built to Spill album, detached from youth as if ashamed, but it isn’t without its spirit or great displays of raw talent.
The album is best observed as a showcase for the multitude of ways that Doug Martsch can use his guitar. On All Our Songs, its Wild West slides, well-placed fuzzy bits, and old school, blistering solos, the likes of which Doug rarely resorted to on prior Spill albums. On Living Zoo, its diggable riffs made up of both thrusts and arpeggios, perfectly leading into an instrumental with a psychotic accelerando. Never Be the Same contains some of Doug’s quirkier fills, and an arpeggio section that resembles Daniel Johnston’s Casper the Friendly Ghost, perhaps intentionally, given what album comes next. He fiddles with multiple tones on C.R.E.B, some rich in reverb, some amplified roomily, some ripping and fuzzy, some darkly nostalgic, then on So, fills all with delicious psychedelic distortion.
There is a lot to chew on if you’re a guitar-head, but from a songwriting standpoint, Untethered Moon is not that good a Built toSpill album, perhaps indicative of the burnout Doug had addressed prior to the album’s release. Only so much fun can come from the phrase “Maltesian riot”; On the Way’s “Jiminy Jillikers”, distracting from its light-treading, its lack of innovation. Then, When I’m Blind is what happens when the slacker gives in to wankery rather than his unassuming, natural grip on guitar physics. Still, even a weak Built to Spill album is dreamy and sincere, for the most part – Untethered Moon is decent, for the most part.
Best tracks – All Our Songs – Living Zoo – C.R.E.B. – So.
#8 – You in Reverse (2006)
You in Reverse follows a five-year lapse and Phil Ek vanishing act, the result being one of Built to Spill’s most forgettable crops of anti-tunes, as if spending all studio time scrambling. Luckily, this was 2006, so Doug Martsch had enough gas left in the tank to wing it on occasion and still come up with the goods. He dusted himself off well enough, and does a decent job at making the album sound like any other Built to Spill album (produced alongside Steven Wray Lobdell), which may not sound like a compliment, but once you consider how stunning all preceding albums were, it is.
The album’s quality is often dictated by Doug’s voice and how it cooperates with everything else that’s going on. This seems to be where his voice became less acerbic and more whispery (the quilted tone that slowly breathes through the Daniel Johnston covers album). He was never the most visceral of singers, so his voice becoming more groggy or silicone doesn’t have to affect, well, anything. It certainly doesn’t affect Goin’ Against Your Mind; a Saturday night riff machine with something pretty and nostalgic appearing like a hologram on the horizon. Nor does it affect Conventional Wisdom, on which there is such an emphasis on melody, that all Doug needs to do is presentably supply his own, and he does! Plus, even if he downplayed his own vocal talent on the song, nothing could cancel out that attention-grabbing, lightning whip riff. No potential grog could affect the riffage of Mess With Time (one moment Middle Eastern, the next Police-approved reggae), nor could it affect the precious atmospheres of Just a Habit or The Wait.
But it does affect Traces; your everyday post-‘90s alt rock tune, grungy but not grungy enough to be grunge, with whatever muck available being pushed away by Doug’s background-y vocal delivery. There’s a bit of a southern-ness to it, but again, muck pushed away. His voice sounds squeamish when placed against southern blues rock on Wherever You Go – I don’t expect, nor do I want, an overly masculine ZZ Top-come-Nickelback style of approach, but it’s a weird clash. Hs voice affects Liar and Gone for the better. The former plays contrary to the photogenic, old school girl group vibe of its instrumental, but that instrumental is chirpy enough to make for a fun, little ride. It also forms some juxtaposition with its nihilistic lyrics – art! The latter contains a lot of softness-heaviness juxtaposition, and dig that organ solo, a nice left field moment on an album with very few.
Best tracks – Going’ Against Your Mind – Conventional Wisdom.
#7 – There Is No Enemy (2009)
There is still plenty of magic in what is considered one of the lesser Built to Spill albums. On There Is No Enemy, numerous styles of guitar picture the unsettled versatility of self, like an undiagnosed disorder in which every chunk of the brain must have its say. It seems as though once Doug Martsch started to adopt a softer voice, that’s where his multitude of guitar textures would take over, though there is more of a balance on this album. If there was ever any vigour in his voice, it is mostly lost here; he settles on a soft nasality that manages to contribute to the album’s sentimentality, particularly on the melody-squeezing Hindsight, the bygone Nowhere Lullaby (developing a taste for older pop music, saxophones, and more influxes of sad melody), and the unexpectedly rampant Pat, on which Doug is somehow able to display an unusual amount of punky bite.
Aisle 13 promotes a decent balance, in which a shining sea of indie-riffic guitar licks and wobbling wah is utilised; a brand new effect from Doug’s bag. Life’s a Dream promotes evocative guitar landscapes, the kind of thing Doug has always done, but they sound updated, so dreamily moody via a patchwork of tones and numerous licks and riffs that struggle to decide who the main character should be until the mega solo starts, itself a big, beautiful dynamic shift. He really tries something new with all the distinct sounds he uses on the instrumental break of Things Fall About; squelchy, watery and serene yet still intense. Planting Seeds is, simply, Doug being direct, which is as beautiful as his leaning on pedals; lovingly-mixed guitar leads pump good vibes into the main riff, whilst Doug’s “and just because it’s obvious doesn’t mean it’s even true” quip feels like a triumphant high for him. He’s still making sure his lyrics are as real to him as possible, as likely to make an observation about Bill Hicks as he is heartbreak.
Some songs do have the tendency to drift off sans exclamation mark, while others end unexpectedly with no fanfare implied or whatsoever. But There Is No Enemy is an underrated triumph of post-‘90s Built to Spill. It is as picturesque as any other, adopting a nuanced, advanced nostalgia in its themes and textures, and Doug is quite committed to crafting a good rock album, smoothening his more recent glut for length and jamming by seizing the value of time – and not wasting the listener’s.
Best tracks – Aisle 13 – Life’s a Dream – Planting Seeds.
#6 – Ultimate Alternative Wavers (1993)
Not every band needs a prototype, but Ultimate Alternative Wavers feels like the necessary bridge that connects to the acerbic guitar-man utopia that would follow, even if said bridge doesn’t have a starting point, which makes it a very atypical, very stupid bridge. You think that’s a dumb way to start describing an album? I was going to say Built to Spill’s second album is called There’s Nothing Wrong With Love, when it should’ve been called There’s Nothing Wrong With Ultimate Alternative Wavers. In short, there really is nothing wrong with Ultimate Alternative Wavers; it is simply a small group of chaps getting caught up in the early-to-mid-‘90s alternative rock hype, putting their own spin on the genre/movement, with that spin being an underdeveloped version of the actual spin one of the chaps would certify thereafter. I’d say it’s better than its reputation, but it barely has one.
The album is almost an hour of sheer ‘90s white guy dissolution. The tennis shoes are there, hanging from a washing line by the laces next to the plaid cardigan. The husky air of suburbia is there, but it is at its most Pavement; the guitar interpolations of Three Years Ago Today are sly and dissonant as if played by Scott Kannberg. I could’ve written a disclaimer of ‘this review is just me saying Pavement a lot’. Such repetition could feel as nagging as the actual audial Pavement comparisons become on the album. But it ain’t all bad; the acoustic slacker of Revolution is a good album representative, inhabiting the same dwellings as Pavement’s masterclasses and Weezer’s humanising early demos. Hazy ends with a guitar freakout similar to Pavement’s Filmore Jive; it is a decent early example of Doug Martsch’s knack for viscerally misleading instrumentation, though it sounds as though Built Too Long was supposed to take on that duty; propulsive but unimpactful, almost ten minutes, simply built too long.
These aren’t the kinds of musical bases Doug would rely on throughout the rest of the decade. Ultimate Alternative Wavers is one of the noisier Built to Spill albums; at its height, the guitars of Shameful Dread amplify with immense harshness as if possessed by Pazuzu – he’s out there somewhere, ready to possess us. Get a Life contains a hot-headed riff that suddenly retracts like a hyperactive child when the sugar wears off. The way everything soon boils over, with every threatening lyric and sweet guitar line, humour intact, resembles early Modest Mouse. A subtle sense of humour does lead to some premonition of Doug’s subsequent aloofness coupled with strong emotion. All becomes tangled on Nowhere Nothin’ Fuckup; one lengthy Velvet Underground reference – well, not as lengthy as some of the tracks here. The laconicism of Lou Reed is reimagined through the loitering mood of the song, including a sudden lunge of emotion in the hook as vocals dance with drums. Its grandest statement is its finale cry of “in America, every puddle, gasoline rainbow”.
Best tracks – Revolution – Nowhere Nothin’ Fuckup – Get a Life.
#5 – Ancient Melodies of the Future (2001)
The follow-up to the acclaimed Keep It Like a Secret, Ancient Melodies of the Future is a strange ol’ album that has trouble living up to its predecessor when it tries to. Secret was a bit shorter than Perfect From Now On, in an attempt to pack as much structural bulk into a smaller frame. Ancient Melodies one-ups Secret by choosing a similar path; taking its framework, minimising the minutes, but laying out the bulk both structurally and sonically – if Don’t Try were any bulkier, it’d be metal, sounding like the rumbling of a monster’s belly. This is where it succeeds in sounding like an acceptable sequel to such a great series of albums, but the style of songwriting is far more repetitive, as if all of Doug Martsch’s best ideas were confined to his previous three records. Luckily, he had his own developed style at this point, which not only makes up for its shortcomings but also makes it a fair bit better than Ultimate Alternative Wavers. This is still the work of a talkative, humourful Doug Martsch.
And this version of Martsch still has a few ideas, a few great songs up his sleeve before going away to recharge. The album’s final stretch is particularly great, beginning with You Are’s solo arpeggio that acts as the album’s moving landmark, ending with The Weather; a sad Weezer-style outro that twists into a huge Built to Spill-style outro, iconic in anyone else’s discography. The Host is a good early track; very immeasurable chord changes, seemingly never sticking to a set pattern, like Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys. Thanks to its orchestral add-ons, it’s Doug’s Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder). It’s a little comparable to the slo-mo of Alarmed, still rich in mini-symphonic tapestry, reaching a mammoth crescendo later in its run. The twang of Happiness occasionally gives it a classic southern rock feel, coupled with similarly stylised V-IV chord progressions, forming some relief from its repetitive lyrics. Similarly, Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss would be rockabilly if it had the guts – still a fun song though, nice mix of bounce and sentimentality, and the lyrics are damn detailed; pretty cool creative quirk, all-cylinders verses into choruses that are just repetitions of the song’s title.
No clones of Where Is My Mind (Strange) or songs that are likely about pubic hair (Trimmed and Burning) could distract from Ancient Melodies of the Future’s many high points. The mere sound of the album has its advantages too. I’d go over it again, but I can only say bulk and bulky so many times.
Best tracks – The Host – You Are – Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss – The Weather.
#4 – When the Wind Forgets Your Name (2002)
Built to Spill’s most recent album at the time of writing, and first album of original material in seven years, is the band’s most deeply atmospheric. When the Wind Forgets Your Name sounds like its title; a whisper of nature as confused as it is introspective, like a mean dollop of Autumn air. Sometimes, a bit of a change of face can be very helpful. This was hardly the first time Doug Martsch had attempted this kind of atmosphere, but I would argue this is the best it has ever combined with his melancholic songwriting – the album is by far the best Built to Spill record for songwriting since the ‘90s. It’s great that Doug managed to find better ways to separate himself from his ‘90s equivalent; I don’t recall the sort of stringy bounce harnessed by Rocksteady ever appearing on a prior Built to Spill record, nor do I recall Doug shooting for styles that predate his career; Gonna Lose contains the most psychedelic riff he has ever come out with, piped up and rasping with a smidgen of Hendrix, before the scare of such is traded for a whispering violin on Understood, gathering around Doug’s breathtaking vocal melodies.
Comes a Day is the only song that feels like an old Built to Spill track, as progressive as something from Perfect From Now On, with so many differing hooky movements. But otherwise, it’s atmosphere, atmosphere, ambience and atmosphere, which can lead to the album getting a little too effects-crazy, as Fool’s Gold is hazardous with echo, but that’s rarely so bothersome. On Elements, Doug only needs to be himself to make good on atmosphere, singing melodies that dangle in the wind, with an organ helping out a little later on. Alright is a spiritual Candy Man (the Willy Wonka song, not the horror film), sweetly calming the rampancy of prior sister track Never Alright, which contains elephant guitars that suit its punk-ish tempo. The guitar god returns on Spiderweb; some of the earlier riffing is as tangly as its title.
Fair enough, Built to Spill was at its best as an acerbic, base layer-wearing temple for slacker types, but When the Wind Forgets Your Name proves there is much legitimacy to the band being hazy and atmospheric. Maybe Doug Martsch’s skillset was never owed to one specific thing; maybe he is so adaptable that he has always been able to smoothly repurpose himself. Is he a genius? Maybe, maybe not.
Best tracks – Elements – Never Alright – Alright.
#3 – Keep It Like a Secret (1999)
Built to Spill’s 1994-1999 run of epics is the work of a wry singer out to emotionally pummel the listener either when they’re least expecting or when they know it’s coming through some form of build, but they don’t know when or how, or maybe even why. I’ve placed Keep It Like a Secret at the bottom of this trio of albums only because I find it less attention-grabbing than the other two, but it is as emotionally-pummelling – and emotionally-pummelled – as Doug Martsch’s other best work. It’s also quite individualistic, an effort to write shorter, concise songs, garnered by an inner-experimentation; jamming religiously, with the excerpts that eventualised full songs being some of Built to Spill’s best songwriting.
Center of the Universe retains Weezer’s grasp on conventional chords and entangled riffage, like Undone (the Sweater Song). One of the best aspects of these ‘90s albums is Doug’s devotion to making sure his lyrics play as large a role – “I don’t like this air, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop breathing it”. Carry the Zero is a bombardment, both steady and wild, drilling words into the listener’s mind at a constant rate, not at all straying from this focus or the song’s main chord setup, and doing such a gratifying job that even in its repetition, it has become the band’s most beloved song. There is a snap in the structure; as the song heads towards its climax, the rhythm shifts in order to fit that sublime final guitar riff, another moment of repetition, another gooey earworm. Time Trap contains another rhythmic shift, from explosions to a funkier delivery that’d be considered faux-hip if not for Doug’s hearty screams of the song’s title. Also note that legendary drum fill that makes it sound like it’s going to segue into a ska song. Sidewalk is all reckless abandon; drumbeats spearheaded by snares, guitar riffs that linger on two notes played with rapidity; a panic pureeing through white suburbia, with a subtle synth contrasting the white.
Addition – such as the aforementioned synth of Sidewalk – contributes massively to the scope of Keep It Like a Secret. The multi-tracked holler of You Were Right plays out with more and more pessimism, and I wonder if it would’ve felt like such a crucial moment had the vocals been at all downplayed. Then, Broken Chairs is a gruelling, epic finale that heads towards its close with a whistling finale, a barbarity stronger than any power chord. Through the guitars of Else, that bend with a flutter like woodsy shoegaze, we maintain the notion that there is something special happening in every corner of Keep It Like a Secret. Doug Martsch is the king of the slacker guitar, but here, he’s the king of everything.
Best tracks – Carry the Zero – Sidewalk – Broken Chairs.
#2 – There’s Nothing Wrong With Love (1994)
The emergence of conscious, introspective slacker rock, that advances alternative rock’s relationship with the guitar, lies within There’s Nothing Wrong With Love. Built to Spill’s second album is the start of something great; the teeth-gritting, emo-leaning sound that comprises the band’s most important era. Doug Martsch reels from thoughts like an ideological hangover, his dazed guitars echoing the sentiment, whilst offering a concise story, a coming-of-age in the world of ‘90s alternative; an autobiography adapted to film, with major themes of childhood love, adult anxiety, and searches for certainty. He reveals himself the slacker with application, as does the album; smarter and chunkier than your average. Doug’s voice slides up a scale like a finger across piano on Car, perhaps working hard to impress the song’s baroque backing. A greater example of his motivation is his overwhelming clamouring – “I wanna see movies of my dreams”. Twin Falls and Some merge; a quietly powerful intro in the former, documenting family and upbringing, into the sudden guitar blitz of the latter; a I-V-vi-IV meltdown with fuzzy crescendo solos akin to Pavement’s Filmore Jive particularly as it exchanges those vicious solo sections with hushed interjections.
It feels as though there’s rarely been a moment in my life when I haven’t had a song from There’s Nothing Wrong With Love stuck in my head. Distopian Dream Girl is the most obvious example. It’s basically Semi-Charmed Life for people who feel guilty about listening to Semi-Charmed Life, even though there’s even less wrong with Semi-Charmed Life as there is with love. A similar ascending vocal is confronted by a dreamlike rhythm, with confessional, candid lyrics that stand out as some of the album’s most discussive – “My stepfather looks just like David Bowie and he hates David Bowie. I think Bowie’s cool / I think Lodger rules / I think my stepdad’s a fool”. Doug’s lyrics, and the ‘real life’ manner in which he executes them, make for many of the album’s aforementioned memorable nuggets; his singing “they are all reasons to me” as he seeks excuses for love on Reasons; asking his younger self “won’t you rescue me?” on Big Dipper; and the should-be-iconic-probably-is-iconic “when you see a documentary and know the outcome and that it’s fucked / you still hope Hitler will blow up, and that Kennedy will duck” on The Source.
You may remember the album for In the Morning, which is Murphy’s Law in musical form; the song that tries to force itself to live in the moment with incessant repetitions of the words “the next day” in a rageful manner that acknowledges “I will not think about this thing, but in telling myself this, I am thinking about this thing”. Or you may remember it for the fact that, after all of this gut-spilling, it is still up for a goof. The album ends with a faux preview for songs from the next Built to Spill record. Parodies include a “kick you in the head” hardcore punk song; a Ramones-lite outtake; a Green Day-esque ‘90s punk song; and a cheesy cowboy ballad. “Look for the record with ME on the cover!”. Disclaimer – none of these songs would appear on the following Built to Spill album, or any for that matter.
Best tracks – Car – Some – Distopian Dream Girl.
#1 – Perfect From Now On (1997)
“Built to Spill goes prog” would be the incorrect tagline; the band’s slacker-ish tendencies remain intact on Perfect From Now On, which would surely be booed out of any arena by those only there to see Gentle Giant. Afterall, their downward-gazing, loser-y vibes represent ‘90s alternative to no end, even more than any Nirvana record. However, their garage setup is challenged by a few more cosmetics in the synth/orchestra department, alongside much longer compositions. Eh, I guess “Built to Spill more-or-less goes prog” is fine, even if it still isn’t really true.
The band’s first major label album, its very best album, has amazing production; guitars do the job of strings on songs where there are no strings, like a stealthy orchestra. A niftily emotive update in sound ties in with Doug Martsch’s written relationship with sound. The words “stop making that sound” are sandwiched by instructions of achieving a tiny piece of eternity on Randy Described Eternity. Its primary sound is its fuzzed-out minor chord, cutting with emotional impact as Doug ditches aloofness to cry – it is one of his most searing vocals. He sings “I can’t get that sound you make out of my head, I can’t even figure out what’s making it / it feels like fingernails across the moon” on I Would Hurt a Fly – a shared shudder between singer, audience and orchestra strings, which respond to each damaged lyric like movie sound effects, or at least, something that George Martin would throw into a Beatles song. Before he screams for logic and understanding out of his reach on Out of Site (“what a sight, what a sound”), he sings “that stupid sound, that awful feel” on Made-Up Dreams, applied with a melodist’s simplicity, frequenting the same set of notes, heightened for impact as fuzzy solos and moogs swing by. It was almost in danger of not having its own ‘sound’ to fend off “that stupid sound”, but it becomes so pretty, especially its later orchestral section. Wondrous indie symphony.
Lyrically, the album is still aboveboard and blunt, but poetry is prevalent and startling; wordplay, illustrative metaphor and novella-esque tie-ins – linguistics upped! Toasted by the most colourful guitar intro, cryptic doubt within a romantic three-step creeps into Velvet Waltz – “you thought of everything but some things can’t be thought”. Then there’s the blow to the jaw that is Untrustable / Part 2 (About Someone Else), another part-waltz with fairly traditional chords that aggressively presses a magnifying glass toward those who, well, I’ll let Doug Martsch tell you – “you can’t trust anyone ‘cause you’re untrustable / how can you trust someone you know can’t trust you?”. Then later, “you don’t like anything ‘cause you’re unlikable / all because you’re not interested in you anymore”.
To think we could’ve been without the perfection of Perfect From Now On. The album was recorded three times, first with just Doug Martsch on all non-percussion instruments, then on tapes that ended up being destroyed, then the final product. Martsch’s commitment to getting this shit out there is represented stunningly by the album itself. Call it slacker, but you’ll seldom hear anything so motivated.
Best tracks – Randy Described Eternity – I Would Hurt a Fly – Made-Up Dreams – Untrustable / Part 2 (About Someone Else).
Screw It! Let’s Do a Top Ten (Top Ten Built to Spill Songs)
10. Sidewalk
9. Made-Up Dreams
8. Goin’ Against Your Mind
7. Carry the Zero
6. Distopian Dream Girl
5. Untrustable / Part 2 (About Someone Else)
4. Car
3. Broken Chairs
2. Randy Described Eternity
1. I Would Hurt a Fly
Honourable Mentions:
Life’s a Dream
Velvet Waltz
Kicked It in the Sun
The Plan
