Idaho, the state. Located somewhere in the middle of America. Lots of potatoes. Lots of land. Not much else.

Idaho, the band. Located somewhere in Los Angeles. Lots of guitars. Lots of noise. Not much else. “We have a little formula that’s really, really easy,” admits Jeff Martin, half the brain behind the collective. I just take a four-string electric guitar and maybe write two parts, maybe a third...we just make kind of a stupid little arrangement and we do a layering job. It starts off with guitar and drums and then I put a bassline down and John [Berry, the other half of the brain] will put some noise down and I’ll just write the vocals. But the stuff is disgustingly simple.”’

And disgustingly antagonizing. Idaho’s The Palms EP could quite possibly be the most leisurely attempt at grating someone’s nerves to date, barring Codeine and Earth 2. What with a whole Idaho album called Year After Year dropping from the sky any day now via Caroline, even Jeff seems a bit phased that people are turning on to his craft.

“I’m really surprised when people tell me they like it,” he imparts.

No less than us, man.

Aidin Vaziri