Earlier this year, I read some good advice for music writers. Something like: If the band name isn’t in the first two sentences of your review, you’re doing it wrong.

So I should say right now that I saw Built to Spill at the Domino Room Wednesday night, and they brought the goods, as usual. It was a totally solid — and characteristically plain — rock show from one of the best bands of the past couple decades.

Now, I’m going to meander for a minute.

If you’ve ever seen me at a concert, chances are decent you caught me pecking away on my cell phone, not because I was texting or playing Angry Birds, but because that’s the way I take notes for Feedback. I find it much easier to jot down song titles and observations digitally than on a piece of paper in the dark.

On Wednesday, I took no notes. For two reasons:

1) A few weeks ago, I went and saw the Scottish pop band Teenage Fanclub in Portland. And after spending the past 18 months thoroughly documenting every show I saw for use on Frequency, I made myself just watch and enjoy one of my favorite bands. No photos. No video. No notes. Just watch and enjoy.

It sounds silly, I know. But it was great, so I did the same thing Wednesday night. I found a sweet spot about 20 feet from frontman Doug Martsch, equidistant from the speakers on either side of the stage, and I just watched and enjoyed.

2) I got a new phone last weekend. And it has a big ol’ screen, and it is super bright. I learned on Wednesday that it’s so bright I feel self-conscious using it in a dark club. One guy told me I was messing up the light show.

So, no notes. I’m going to go on memory. Fortunately, Built to Spill is kind of the ideal band for such a venture, thanks to its decidedly no-frills approach to playing live.

The band’s first show in Bend in a couple years was packed with music, more music and not much else. Martsch — dressed in all black, bedhead and a bushy, graying beard — paused to say “Thanks” a half-dozen times, and he expanded on that with a “We really appreciate it” near the end of the set, but besides that, Built to Spill filled two hours wall to wall with indie-pop, psychedelic rock and sparkling guitar jams.

I find Martsch to be one of the more intriguing figures in music. He seems to exist in his own little world, a bubble protected from the rest of the industry with its own rules and results. For nearly two decades, the guy has stuck to doing exactly what he wants to do at exactly the pace he wants to do it, apparently immune to outside influences, pressures and expectations.

It makes for an interesting career arc. Whereas many bands change up styles or try new things after several years, Martsch’s music, if anything, has become more narrowly focused in recent years. (I’m not saying that change is better than consistency. I’m just saying it’s interesting.) He seeks variety in side projects; he took a five-year hiatus from the band and made a solo blues record, and last year he recorded an EP of electronic Built to Spill covers using only synths and drum machines.

Both of those are fine. But within the classic musician/band construct, they’re head-scratchers.

It’s that same independent, carefree streak that drives Martsch’s setlists, I suppose. Wednesday’s show was heavy with old-school favorites and only a few songs (the mellow “Life’s A Dream,” the punky thrash of “Pat,” the rubber soul of “Hindsight”) from Built to Spill’s most recent record, 2009’s “There Is No Enemy.”

Instead of flogging the record you’d expect him to flog, Martsch showcased several crunchy golden oldies like “In The Morning” and “Stab” (early in the night), and “Car” and “Distopian Dream Girl” (later). He stacked the middle of the set with sweeping, soaring songs like “Untrustable,” “The Plan” and “I Would Hurt A Fly.” In particular, the roiling ending of “Untrustable” was a scorcher that stirred the up-front fans — a funny mix of hippies, frat-looking dudes, hipsters and mountain men — into a mild mosh pit. (Note to the guy in the Stihl hat: No one wanted to bump into you. Why did you insist on bumping into everyone in sight?)

The band was typically subdued, at least in appearance. Brett Nelson, Brett Netson and Jim Roth played their roles, standing almost still as they helped Martsch build tidal-wave walls of sound. They couldn’t have looked more uninterested if they’d tried. And drummer Scott Plouf was almost entirely hidden behind a stack of amplifiers.

Still, they rocked. Hard.

At the end of the main set came some classic Martsch misdirection. The band blazed the Domino Room’s collective brain with a monster version of “Carry the Zero,” and the crowd responded, sustaining an encore call for longer than usual, which was good, because Built to Spill took the longest break before an encore that I’ve seen in years.

Like I said, these guys work at their own pace.

Rather than feed into that energy, however, Martsch returned to the stage alone, acoustic in hand, for a bluesy encore, showing off his impressive picking and slide skills on “Dream” and “Offer.”

It was great, but it was unexpected. Which, at this point, is to be expected from this band.

Now on my fifth time seeing Built to Spill, what I do expect from them is at least one interminable jam per show, and they delivered, wrapping the night with a spacey 25-minute take on “Broken Chairs.”

After about 10 minutes of it, I was ready to roll, but I didn’t. I stood near the back of the room and stuck it out through the whole thing.

Because good bands come through Bend regularly. But bands this good don’t. So you’ve got to soak it up when you have the chance.