THE venue’s only just opened. Tipped LA outfit Idaho are
opening for Radial Spangle and Sundial and there’s hardly anybody here. Six
people gather stagefront, the rest slouch around
drinking beer and playing pinball. Above the chatter, two gruff Yorkshire
voices ponder the nature of the act. “Who the fook
are they?” asks one. “More bloody Americans,” his friend snorts dismissively. “And
if they’re no good we’ll fookin’ can ‘em.”
Seconds later, Jeff Martin stands centre
stage alone with his guitar, deep in concentration. He starts to play, so
quietly at first that you can hear the crush of a lager tin. Shit, he thinks,
this ain’t gonna be easy.
And then they come, those stark but voluminous waves of electricity. People
aren’t talking so much now, they’re gathering round and when Martin opens his
mouth outcomes a great howl of anguish that stuns the
crowd into silence. “Here’s another
wasted life/We’ll be putting down the stones again.”
Hey, optimism! But his choked, weary voice hangs heavy in this
place and, as the song ends, you can hear a pin drop.
Rightly or wrongly, Idaho have
already been firmly pigeon-holed in the “New Depressives” category that also includes
Red House Painters and AMC. There is a morose, painful truth within their music
that can be disconcerting; it’s in the tense, broody mood, the subject matter
(the futility of life), the forlorn, resigned manner in which Martin chews upon
his vocals. So why is listening to them such a purifying and uplifting
experience?
Because to hear Idaho is to acknowledge the unspoken bond
that can exist between human beings on their journey toward The End. When Jeff
Martin, with colleague John Berry and band perform, his sad, disconsolate but
incredibly spirited music seems to complete an electrical circuit between the
man and his audience. There’s no hiding place, no escape from our mortality.
Listening to Idaho’s minimal, mesmeric sculptures, we feel naked, humbled and human.
As I sit, awestruck, listening to the heartfelt tug of “Skyscrape” (“The
harder you try/To be respected/It’s not difficult to
see why you are/Not happy”], I’m reminded of This Mortal Coil’s
cover of “Kangaroo”, and of how life’s inherent struggle gives us reason for
living.
Listening to Idaho provides fuel to go on.
DAVE SIMPSON