Monthly Archives: March 2023

Though only four songs long, Left on Delmar Drive runs listeners through an emotional gamut. The EP starts with “Resentment #9,” which strings a series of sobering realizations—the sort that make breakups seem inevitable—against a backdrop of gentle acoustic chords. Spruiell’s voice is unassuming here, heavy with Texas twang, as well as on “I’m Rubber, You’re Glue,” a song with grumbling guitars and humming momentum. “It must be shit to be you,” he croons during the chorus—a dig at his ex, but also an insight from a healthier perspective. These songs are about codependency, but also about having the strength to walk away, to process the poison in a healthy way, to view the world from a new place. “It was a huge time of growth for me,” Spruiell adds, “because I was realizing what I was: a white knuckling sober dude who was still suffering from the addiction of codependence. In seeing that, I was able to see my ex for who she really was, too, when I wasn’t blinded by my codependence.”

But Left on Delmar Drive is about seeing oneself in new, healthier ways as well. When Big Loser started working their last full-length Love You, Barely Living in 2020, Spruiell had high expectations for the record. He put a lot of stress and pressure on himself to make it perfect. “I wasn’t the best person to be around,” Spruiell admits. “Left on Delmar Drive was the opposite. I just let things unfold as they should and didn’t try to control everything—try being the key word. It definitely allowed me to be more collaborative, which I fucking enjoyed so much with Scotty [Sandwich, who recorded the EP]. He was amazing to work with, and I loved pretty much all of his ideas.”

“Logistics,” the EP’s final track, puts that personal growth on full display. The song is a pick-up packed with belongings trucking down the highway to anywhere else. As guitars grunt and drums thump, Spruiell sings, “The further I get away from you / The easier it is to have a clearer view,” like he’s shouting from the driver’s side window. But during the album’s grand finale, the song softens and slows, strips itself down to piano and a shimmering guitar. Here, Spruiell sings, “You left me on Delmar Drive with the rent not paid at all / I used to not see you, my eyes closed, I ignored it all / You keep the lies you thought up in the dark spot of your heart / I’ll keep my eyes open, now I see you, I know what you are.” These lines serve as the album’s epiphany, the realization that kicks the song into drive one more time so it can cruise into the sunset.