Idaho Music - Message Board

RE: Sorry For My Silence | from TonyOct 01 2026 - 14:07

Thank you for your kind words Malk

RE: Sorry For My Silence | from Malk LionSep 29 2026 - 21:32

Tony, take care, stay strong and go cross this period, beautiful things Always follow hard times so pass through It safely. You helped so many, Indeed me, with your Amazing work collecting Idaho ratities and bootlegs. Thank you and stay strong, my friend

Sorry For My Silence | from TonySep 28 2026 - 17:54

Hello everyone,

It has been a very long time since I last posted on this forum, even though I did upload some material to IIMA back in 2026.

There are very specific, personal reasons for this—reasons I will touch upon briefly without going into too much detail, as this concerns my private life.

I realize I am under no obligation to share this, yet I feel a need to do so. This forum—which is ultimately rather quiet—feels like the right place, as I am not looking for a response (or rather, I do not wish for one); I absolutely do not want to elicit pity or anything of the sort. Thank you in advance for your understanding.

To me, this forum is a small, low-profile space that has been close to my heart for years, and it feels like a community that is truly kind and supportive.

Before sharing a bit more about myself, I’d like to congratulate Jeff and Jen on their wedding—albeit belatedly, for which I apologize. I wish you the greatest possible happiness; may life be sweet and pleasant for you, and may the very best things come your way, my friends :)

Now, a little about me. Life is a curious thing—beautiful and gentle at times, yet harsh at others. To put things in a coherent chronological order, I’ll start with my teenage years. I grew up in southeastern France, near a small town called Mouriès, which is just a few kilometers from Les Baux-de-Provence. (That geographical reference probably won’t mean much to anyone—except, perhaps, Jeff. A quick personal note to Jeff: I discovered this connection a few years ago while looking at photos posted online from the band's days off during their 2008 tour.) I find it amusing that, back then, members of one of the bands that most influenced my life were just a few kilometers away from where I grew up—especially considering that, at the time, I didn't even know Idaho!

And no—so much for that myth—I’m not a "fan" (a word I dislike) from the very beginning; I only discovered Idaho in 2009. Yet, had someone told me back then what was to follow, I never would have believed it.

Having grown up in that corner of France near Italy during the early 90s—a time when Italian bootlegs were plentiful in local record stores—I was raised on a steady diet of unofficial discographies. I always loved them: the alternative artwork, the concert recordings of varying quality... As a music enthusiast and amateur musician, I felt they offered a chance to delve deeper into an artist's work and expanded the imaginative world surrounding the music.

Back then, like many teenagers of the 90s, I swore by Nirvana; I was thoroughly shaped by the trends of the era, and my critical judgment was virtually non-existent. When Cobain died, my world fell apart (as it did for many, I imagine). I won’t say much more on the subject other than this: throw *Nevermind* in the trash, listen to Nirvana’s other albums, and—above all—listen to the bands Cobain used to list on scraps of paper. That’s what Nirvana boils down to for me now (though that’s just my personal opinion, and you’re perfectly entitled to disagree! Lol).

However, that void was filled for me by Beck (Hansen)—specifically his earliest cassette-recorded works (like *Banjo Story*, *Golden Feelings*, etc.). It was a revelation; the message I took from those recordings was: "Hey man! You don’t need to be a genius to make music, and you don’t even need to make a career out of it. Just do what you love, treat it like a diary of your own little life, and if you’re happy with it and it makes sense to you—well, that’s already a huge achievement." That’s how I started tinkering with sounds at home when I was 15. Over the years, I’ve launched a few small, DIY-style projects with friends; and although one of my recordings was released by a nationally recognized French DIY label, I remain just a guy making music as a hobby—nothing more.

Why am I telling you this? Simply to describe my relationship with music and to explain how I developed both my technical skills and my ear. Sure, over time I’ve learned to "polish" my sound (to a certain extent), but I’m still just an amateur—not a real musician, and certainly not a sound engineer. To wrap up on my musical journey: don’t ask for the names of my projects or the French label that released my work. I certainly won’t share that here—never. If I mention it at all, it’s simply to share my modest journey, and nothing more. And although what I’ve done might be found online, I will never use Idaho to promote my work.

Let’s go back a bit to my history with Idaho: in 2009, a musician friend played me a track of his based on a sample from "You Are There"—or rather, "Endgame." I fell in love instantly. Without even knowing the album's name, I immediately bought an Idaho record (*This Way Out*) sight unseen. My reaction was immediate: aside from one or two songs, I wasn't a fan; the album completely missed the mark for me. Yet, in my experience, that’s actually a good sign. I know that in cases like this, I’ll either never like it or the exact opposite will happen—that it’s just a matter of time and, like a good tea, I need to let it steep before I can truly appreciate it (I had the same reaction when I first listened to *Spiderland* after discovering Slint). Today, there’s no question about it: I love Idaho’s music, and I think that’s going to last for a long time! Lol

The rest is pretty simple: I’d spent years digging into the subject—having already hunted down B-sides by Nirvana and Beck during my teens. Idaho presented an even greater challenge due to their obscurity. I caught up by scouring the forum (which was accessible via slidinpast.com back in the day) and combing through its history on the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine—tracing it all the way back to a forum called "iforum" (I think; I don't quite recall, as it was during the Buzz Records era). I turned Brian (Carter)’s site and Brent’s pages inside out, swapped info with fans worldwide who ran blogs during the heyday of Blogspot, navigated P2P torrent sites like Dimeadozen, and amassed the complete discography in almost every format (except for the cassette versions of their mainstream album releases).

That’s also how, over the course of 17 years, I collected a huge number of shows that were floating around online. Then, in 2020 during the COVID period, I reached out to Jeff to pitch my archive project—and the rest, as they say, is history :)

As for why I’ve been silent throughout 2026—one might imagine that by releasing the Vevey show or the tape of the band’s 2021 tour rehearsals myself, I was trying to keep a low profile, but that’s absolutely not the case; in fact, if Jeff wants me to take down those recordings or any others, I’ll do so without question. No, the reason I went quiet—despite some minor activity on IIMA—was simply due to personal matters.

In April 2025, I lost my father in a violent accident. We were estranged; our relationship had always been complicated, yet we loved each other, even though we didn't know how to talk to one another. From a very young age, I had made it my life’s goal to make him proud of me at least once. Today, not only do I know that will never happen—just as I’ll never be able to make peace with him—but the worst part is that, despite our estrangement and the fact that I wasn't the ideal son in his eyes, he didn't disinherit me. While I ought to view that as proof that he loved me (something I don't doubt), it only makes the weight of my guilt feel even heavier.

When he passed away, a large part of my family (at least on my father’s side—my parents divorced when I was two, and I’m 46 now) washed their hands of any responsibility. I had to shoulder everything alone, without a shred of compassion from them; quite the opposite—there was even jealousy and a malicious intent to cause harm. Yet, despite all that, I managed to hold firm.

Then, as if that weren’t enough, my grandmother passed away a few months later. She had cared for me like a mother—something my own mother never did. And, as life sometimes decides to keep piling on the misery, two other close relatives of mine passed away after her. To be honest, that’s when I sank into a deep depression—and no, it’s not behind me; I’m right in the thick of it.

So, to circle back to the beginning of my message: I’m sharing this here because I know few people will read it. I’m not expecting replies, and I don’t want pity. There are situations worse than mine—I could be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life, terminally ill with an incurable disease, or born in a country where life expectancy doesn't exceed 30 years and spend my days digging in a mine. So no, I’m not someone to be pitied, but yes—IIMA has become something very important to me, a sort of lifeline.

Back in 2015, I wanted to see Jeff in concert but couldn't due to health issues; in 2025, it was because of my father’s passing—or rather, the logistics involved. Fortunately, the community shared so much content that I was able to experience it vicariously. Thank you to everyone—Jeff and his team as well as the fans. Thank you, truly; you have no idea how much this helped take my mind off things at times when hardly anything else could.

Anyway, I’ll stop here and head over to the IIMA thread to share the news.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this.

Take care,

Tony