How many artists out there are there whose CDs you’ll get as soon as they come out, because you KNOW that they’re going to give you value? Top on everyone’s list would be Avraham Fried, and it is no surprise that Keep Climbing is a keeper. Every time through this record I love it more, and it has enough in the way of styles and creativity to be sure to please just about everybody.

For one thing, Fried’s voice is superb. He’s reached a point where he can do just about anything he wants with it, and it’s always under absolute control. Throughout the album, you never get the feeling like he’s doing something that’s pushing it or beyond himself. And that’s true alongside the fact that I’d have to say this is Fried’s most creative effort to date.

You get that feeling from the liner notes – the personal reflections on each song are worthwhile and meaningful, and they add depth. Fried said publicly that he chose the lyrics of each song, and that in itself gives me more appreciation for the total value. There’s a balance between the songs that are deep pleading to Hashem and the tunes that reflect joy and spirit. Check back with me in a year on this one, and despite my occasional critiques, I really think this is one for the ages.

Hafachta: (****) What a great opening tune! This song really jumps! The lyrics are perfect, and Fried expresses each word with energy and feeling. It opens with an 80’s pop bass and brass line (anyone remember Rechnitzer Rejects’ “Satmar” song?) but doesn’t get dust blown all over you, as the production is thick and solid. I absolutely loved the Irish flute at 2:54, followed by the return of the heavy bass. The “Simcha, simcha” interspersed throughout the song gives it character, and the inflection of the word is changed often, keeping it from getting stale. Great opener.

Yehalelu: (***) This clarinet/accordion-led waltz is a thing of beauty that calls to mind a bygone era of Jewish music. As soon as I heard it, I thought it brought to mind Gerrer niggunim, and I can hear it sung by R’ Dovid Werdyger. Well, baruch shekivanti, because Fried apparently thought so as well – he writes that it reminded him of Yankel Talmud. Production is good – particularly with the clarinet, and the eidel solo at 2:51 – but the choir is a bit flat. This remains a minor issue on a few other songs over the album, but here, the song could have used some serious choral treatment. The slack is picked up by Avremel himself, as the best harmonies are his own. I was surprised at the placement of the song on the album – second? But hey, that’s just nitpicking. I also would have pulled the power of the choir up to tops for the ending.

Vezakeini: (***) A dreamy harp and violin starts this beautiful tune. The composition reminds me a lot of Yisimcha (from Bracha Vehatzlacha), so if you liked that, you’ll probably love this one as well. Avremel enunciates each word with plaintive kavana, drawing out the meaning of this beautiful prayer into the melody with the greatest of skill. I don’t rate it that highly, despite the beauty of the tune, only because it is so similar to past songs. The bridge, and its Yiddish words assist it somewhat. Easy to sing, this one will probably become a camp Friday night favorite.

Ain KeEilokeini: (***) A return to the ‘80’s with the electronica intro got me a bit worried the first time through the album. I’m not crazy about the first stanza, with the false Poilisher accent (although Avremel gets a pass, as his family comes from Poilisher Chassidim) and the repeated words, but the song really moves onwards. And with the forceful Yiddish translation/elaboration, the song really comes alive. This style of song – with the lyrics both from classic sources and transferred into another language – works very well for me. I think it adds a lot, by making it more meaningful and down-to-earth. (Many old niggunim use this method successfully; you may remember Lo Luni on Lipa’s Likroi Es Hahalel, Lecha Dodi on Tzlil V’Zemer’s Wake Up Yidden, Yankel Yankel from Fried himself, and there are many others.) Good guitar work – mostly with pressure on the wah-wah pedal – throughout the song gives it even more color.

Retzoineinu: (****) Avremel begins this piece with a laid-back cantoral piece, similar in style and concept to Ki Hamitzvah, from his album Aderaba. He exhibits no strain and absolute precision in his vocals throughout. I actually like the fact that he didn’t spend too much time on it, moving instead over to the very beautiful melody itself. Avremel exudes emotion, as he is obviously taken by these lyrics, and for good reason! I’ll bet you never look at this Rashi the same again. The children’s choir, the only one on this album, is perfect – no stretching, and all the kids are in sweet precision with each other. Great job there! Fried belts out a rousing crescendo as his finish of this beautiful piece.

All of that was good. But the second half of the album is truly great.

Kach Es Sheli: (****) Rock. Solid. Lyrically, this is awesome – but even more so as a conceptual follow up to Retzoneinu. Now, while it seems like this song had been produced earlier, I’m not sure how many of us were aware of that original by Yisrael Parnes. Whatever the case, another superb job here – with fabulous back-up vocals and spot-on drums. The rock guitar adds a level of raw angst that can be ratcheted up a few notches only when someone decides to make a heavy metal version of this song. Anyone? In any case, Avremel puts power and raw pain particularly into the Yiddish lyric section that will rip your heart out.

Keep Climbing: (*****) Minimalist beginnings remind me of My Fellow Jew, but this is a better song than that. The message is spot on – and I’ll admit, though this may sound cheesy, it touched me on a day that I was struggling. So for that alone, I’m going to give it good marks. But besides for that, it’s a beautiful craft, with simply outstanding vocals and harmonies – particularly from the bridge and onwards. The words “Don’t let nothing stand in your way” remind me of the Medrash about Avraham Avinu – on his way to the Akeidah, he was slowed by various obstacles, including a rushing river. He walked in until his neck, and when it threatened to wash him away, he called out to Hashem, and it disappeared. It was revealed to have been an attempt to distract him, but truly nothing in the end. What a great perspective on challenges – don’t let “nothing” stand in your way! Besides for the basic interpretation of the song, I wonder if Avremel is talking to his fellow Chabadniks with his message here, or am I reading too much into it?

Amen: (****) This brings us back into the Jewish music of the ‘90’s. It’s a fun tune, composed by the unheralded and under-appreciated Mendi Gerufi. (Give his Eretz Asher Tomid one more listen – that’s an album that deserves more attention than it got.) I wonder why they went with the pronunciation “Yisborach” as opposed to “Yisborech”, which is as Chabadniks pronounce it? Was that decision made based on the sentence structure, or is there a nusach that says it in exactly that fashion? And as it seems to me that dikduk would be on the side of the pronunciation here, why does Nusach Chabad say it the way we do? I’ll have to look this up.

Lomoh Hashem: (*****) Ruli Ezrachi did the arrangements on this song and the next, and I give him major props. From the opening harmonica (if it’s a synth, it’s fooled me pretty well), this tune takes you on a real ride. I absolutely love the combination of the possuk and the English lyrics, as simple as they are. And with yet another terrible tragedy still flickering before our eyes, the song takes on even more urgency, if at all possible. Avremel gives it his all – passion, pathos, pleading and sincere. The pizzicato flowing behind the arrangements are gorgeous as well. Love it.

Shaarei Mizrach: (*****) Yeah! This snazzy Mizrachi dance track is sure to become a major hit, and again, Ezrachi pulls it all together perfectly – choir, vocals, instrumentation all snap together for this hot number. Gotta love the bridge at 3:01. And for a Sephardic style tune, you have to give credit to the very un-Sephardic sounding composer, Elimelech Blumstein. I’d love to hear Meydad Tasa or Chaim Yisrael join Avremel on this and see what happens. Avremel does hold his own with his Mizrachi wailing at 3:31, but again, he doesn’t force anything and it comes out sounding very natural. Admit it – after hearing it the first time, you hit repeat. Which is what I’m going to do right now. :-)

Elokai: (***) While the vocals have the fire of a live show, the arrangement does nothing for me. That’s really too bad, because this is a beautiful song, and Fried obviously loves it. But why does it only get a single run though the first time around? It makes the song too rushed into the energy of the second and third stanzas. The choir, again, is too thin for my liking. Maybe it’s an Israeli style that doesn’t resonate well with me, as I’ve heard it on a few albums that had Israeli backing vocals. Whatever. At the end of the day, it’s still a beautiful song, and worthy of your ears.

Light: (*****) More Hebrew/English fun in this snappy song by Yitzy Waldner. Someone somewhere is going to make a great music video off of this creative and beat-y pop song. The music itself conjures shafts of light, and some nice guitar picking glues it all together. The bridge is a bit weak lyrically, but it works out fine. Another song that it’s just great to listen to and great to sing along to.

Heimoh Heimoh: (****) Funky opener brings us to a song reminiscent of Jewish music in the 70’s, but with excellent vocals and tons of energy. Fried and Co. revel in this classic simcha-style piece, and the horns go at it with gusto. A pile of false endings amid the scattered harmonic overdubs, alongside a few beat swaps interspersed within, point to guys having lots of fun in the studio. The result is fun on this side of the stereo system as well.

So, let’s look at it all: Message/content? Check. Creativity? Check. Mix of material and styles? Check. Vocals? 5 stars. Song choice? 5 stars. Emotion? 5 stars. Joy? 5 stars. While I usually find things to complain about, there just ain’t that much to be bugged by – the only thing in my book would be the order of songs, as I think the first (and weaker) half of the record should have been more evenly distributed across the album – and there’s just so much to love on this sparkling record. If nothing else, Avremel does a better job combining emotional and vocal skill than anyone else has done in a very long time. This album simply has something for everyone, and I think it’ll remain a classic for many years to come.

Yehuda Glantz is the working definition of the word “eclectic” in the Jewish music world. The talented Argentinean-Israeli is a multi-instrumentalist (charango, accordion, pan pipes, guitar, keyboards, percussion, vocals), and is at home playing many different genres. He always has something for the discerning ear, and his newest offering, Chai Vekayam, is no different.

It’s been a long while since his last album, and in the six or so years in the interim, Yehuda’s always good voice has sweetened. It’s not as sharp as it was. The artists he plays with (I don’t have the liner notes, so I don’t know who they are) are skilled and sensitive musicians. As always, his production quality is high, and the songlist varied. This album really has three genres running through it – Latin (of course), jazz and trance – but Glantz has never been one to stick to typical.

Yesh Li: (****) You want eclectic? Let’s start with this – a Latin based tune that includes vocal brass mimicry, klezmer clarinet, falsetto humming and a rap section. So yeah, it’s all over the place – but in the best of ways. Good lyrics – reflecting the work of Dr. Viktor Frankl, you know, meaning and all that – along with the strong beat make this a nice opener.

Bircat Habait: (*****) What a beautiful tune! And an impossibly dreamy guitar working its magic! Glantz is the third to my knowledge (behind Aish 2 and Miami) to use this poetic prayer in a song, and this is my favorite by far. While he squeezes the words into the tune a bit much, the beauty of the instrumentation is other-worldly. This song pleads for a surround sound system and a leather couch. Yehuda uses echo on the vocals to great effect as well. Just gorgeous.

Chai Vekayam: (****) In this trance-track, Glantz goes back to one of his older shtick by inserting a cantoral piece (Seu Shearim, from Rak Litzok). I’m no chazzanus maven, so I may be wrong, but that sounds like Yossele Rosenblatt in there. While slightly cooky, the sound is much more full than his earlier trance piece, Dance Tantz, on his album Rak Litzok El Hashem. Rockin’ guitar from Dani Maman gives it more power and art. Watch his funky music video of this song here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clo9uv0WvQg

Jerusalem My Life: (***) Another Latin piece, with the charango running the show. The simple lyrics are in English (a first for Glantz) and Spanish. The problem here is that the first stanza repeats way too often, with the song not really culminating into anything. Some instrumental solos would have brought it out of the malaise – and I’ll take it they attempted that with some nasal Middle-Eastern wordless humming, but it could have been better than it is.

Shabbat Shalom: (*) Skip. This accordion/clarinet-led old-school klezmer song does nothing for me. I never was a fan of Yiddish Theater. The only plus is the percussion, which is awesome throughout the album.

Samachti: (***) Most of this song is about Glantz’s patented vocal overdubs, which pull out some harmonies that remind me of the Beach Boys. Another South American jumper.

Tziganes: (*****) Ole! An awesome instrumental piece featuring what sounds like a classic klezmer dance melody. The accordion rushes headlong into the violin and heavy percussion for a klezmer dance track. Heavy guitar riffs give it serious bounce, and I know lots of DJs that are going to fire this one up come the next Bar Mitzvah they play at. Reminds me a bit of Raya Mehemna’s Mehemnuta.

Lev Tahor: (**) Decent tune, but Glantz already used these lyrics on Naale, and the melodies are too similar in many respects to each other. Here, however, he adds some Spanish lyrics, so maybe that’s what I’m missing, as I don’t speak Spanish.

Azamra: (*****) A cool jazz piece with nice Hebrew lyrics. This totally chill piece has, again, beautiful instrumentation and excellent vocals. Yehuda pronounces the R of Azamra heavily, and it contrasts in an interesting way against the Israeli R of the first soloist. The bridge at 2:37 is outstanding violin work that sounds like it came from a classical work, and it segues beautifully into a subtle guitar wail. Some great tenor sax work rounds it out. Way classy.

Yocheved: (***) Some more jazz with Latin percussion work on this instrumental. It’s pretty, but the tune doesn’t have that much in terms of spiritual depth. It just is. Some nice violin solos give it what to listen to, though.

Gam Ki Eilech: (***) Yehuda starts this pretty melody in a high-pitched vocal style, but thankfully moves on to the chest, belting out the words with emotion. Listen carefully for the guitar in the background, which throughout the song is colorful and sweet. Glantz shows his own skill with some smooth accordion work.

Pat Bemelech: (***) Pass the chips – we’ve got salsa, baby! All around fun on this authentic piece right out of the Argentine – well, with Hebrew lyrics, at least.

Jazz Mataktak: (***) And we’re back to smooth jazz for another instrumental. I totally don’t go for the nasal humming in the middle (3:06), but there’s a beautiful sax to listen to here. He’s dexterous and moving at the same time, and it sounds great with the bass and piano. Talented musicians.

The album gets better as you listen to it, as there is so much good musicianship throughout that you can find something new and delectable. Percussion and guitar lovers in particular will love listening to this funky album. An awesome new album, and hopefully we’ll get to hear more, and more often, from the talented Yehuda Glantz!

One of the under-appreciated aspects of the book is its introduction, which collates the history and philosophy of Judaism and music. We thought this would be a great continuation of our series, “Music to the Tune of Judaism”, and to that end, we’d like to thank Rabbi Dovid Olidort and the Kehot Publication Society for their permission to translate that intro and present it here.

It is quite well known that music holds quite an important place in the Torah. The proof is in the multitude of times both vocal and instrumental music is mentioned in Tanach, in the Talmud, in the books of the Geonim, Rishonim and Acharonim, and of course in tracts of Kabbalah, Chassidus and Mussar.

We find music even at the very outset of life on earth, during just the eighth generation of mankind. The Torah records the creation of instrumental music by stating, “And Adah gave birth to Yaval, who was the father of all roaming shepherds; and his brother was Yuval, who was the father of those who play harp and flute.”* (Gen. 4:21)

The juxtaposition of the shepherd with music is meant to tell us that just as cattle-raising is integral to civilization, so is civilization in need of musical instruments. It also points out the relationship between shepherds and music, which may be the reason that Chassidim took many motifs from the music of shepherds, as we will discuss later.

When the Jewish people left Egypt and the sea split before them, they expressed their deep appreciation to G-d and joy through music. (Ex. 15:1) And the Jewish women took out their tambourines and sang and danced at the Song of the Sea. The Jews also sang once again, after seeing the miracles that occurred on the Arnon River, between the border of Moav and Emor, as recounted in Numbers 21:17.**

Among the Prophets we likewise find major musical experiences. Devorah sang her song after winning the battle with Sisserah and Yavin, king of Chatzor (Judges 5:1). King David, of course, was the Sweet Singer of Israel, and his magnum opus of sorts is repeated in Samuel II 22:1 and Psalms 18. But it was his extraordinary expression of joy and music that truly is remarkable on the occasion of the movement of the Ark from the home of Avinadav to Jerusalem. Samuel II 6:5 records this experience, and recounts the specific instruments that were played at that occasion.

Music has the power to cause prophecy to rest upon a prophet,*** and it has the ability to remove evil spirit from upon a person. Elisha asked for music when he wanted to receive prophecy, as we see in Kings II 3:15. King Saul, on the other hand, asked for music to remove an evil spirit from his mind, in Samuel 1:16.****

We see the Jewish custom of singing during prayer established clearly in the Book of Psalms. That book includes songs which were played on specific instruments of yore, that are actually enumerated in the psalms themselves, including Nechilot, Sheminit, and others. (See Rashi on Psalms 5:1 and on other verses.) Psalm 150, the final chapter of that book, enumerates many other instruments upon which are worthy to praise G-d. However, it seems that it was the harp that was King David’s favorite instrument with which to play, as we see in Samuel 1:17. The Talmud recounts, “A harp hung over David’s bed. At the stroke of midnight, a northern wind would blow over it, and it would play by itself.” (Brachot 3b)

To King David, music was not only important when praying, but even when studying Torah, as he writes in Psalm 119:54. (To be continued next week.)

*See Torat Chaim, Gen. vol. 1, discourse that begins “Veteled Adah”. Rabbi Dovber of Lubavitch writes a deep Kabbalistic dissertation on this verse: “First, we must understand the concept of ‘the father of all flute and harp’, which is the source of all higher music… For in this music lays the level of ascent and utter nullification in its source. For any ascent from a lower to higher state can only happen through the nullification of the lower into utter nothingness. And this occurs through music… And this is understood by that which is hinted to in the Mishna, (Tractate Shabbat ch. 5, Mishna 1), ‘All animals that wear collars’, or translated literally, ‘All masters of song go out and are drawn in through song.’ This refers to the higher angels, which are called the Chayot of the Merkavah, or the ‘animals of the Chariot’. These angels “go out”, meaning they rise higher and are gathered in to their source as they leave their original state. This occurs when their original comprehension of G-dliness is nullified. This, as we explained, happens through their music. They are ‘drawn in with song’ afterwards, as once their first state is annulled, they can receive from a state of G-dliness that is beyond comprehension…” The discourse then quotes a number of other verses across Tanach from where these ascensions can be understood, and talks about four types of songs and four types of voices.

** See Tractate Sotah 30b for the disagreement between Rabbi Akivah and his colleagues exactly how Moshe and the people sang the song.

*** The Zohar writes, “When the verse says ‘To David, a song’, it means that David first sang, and then prophecy rested upon him. When the verse says, ‘A song, to David’, it means that David first experienced the Divine spirit, and only afterwards sang.” See Zohar Noach 67a. Tractate Pesachim 117a has this quote written in the inverse, but this seeming contradiction is clarified in the book Shivrei Luchot.

****See Livnat Hasapir, Noach: “Before the soul was decreed to descend, it was accustomed to hearing the songs of the angels and of the spiritual spheres. Once it is in a body and it hears a song, it finds pleasure and enjoyment as it had been accustomed to when it was yet joined with its source. From the great pleasure, it is fitting that a G-dly spirit should rest upon it, as it did in its original source.”

Brilliant guitarist Nadav Bachar, of A Groyse Metsie and Pshita (http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/nadavbacharpshita, www.cdbaby.com/cd/repentancedooresdaltayte) has been spotted with a strange new ax! Check out the video below for some beautiful musicianship on a unique instrument they seem to call a “Ketar”. The nigun was composed by a heavenly Lubavitcher chasid named R’ Hillel Potchoper, who used to pray with this tune. The two cds in the links above, Daltey Teshuva and Yishuv Hada’at come highly recommended for anyone who loves acoustic music and dexterous skill!

And to see what Bachar and his buddy Oren Tzor can do with their limber fingers, see the second video below of some wicked speed on a klezmer-style song!

You’ve probably heard a Chassidic tune sung without words and wondered where THAT came from. Really, was the composer too lazy to write some lyrics? Or maybe the notes were whipped off his desk before he managed to set them to poetry? Well, obviously, there’s something more to it than just lack of creativity.

We’ve explained that music is the expression of the soul. The soul has different levels of expression, some more inward than others. If we were to break it down, we’d see three separate levels: 1. Music via an instrument; 2. music that is verbal; and 3. music that is vocal, but wordless.

Instrumental music can truly move someone. But in truth, the instrument is an intermediary between the message and the musician. In other words, the person is presenting a message by way of a vessel, as opposed to presenting it directly. So while instrumental music has an important position in Judaism – after all, there are rules in Jewish law that enumerate how many of each instrument needed to be part of the orchestra in the Beit Hamikdash – yet, instrumental music is only part of the full picture.

Verbal music is one step closer to the soul, as it is being sung directly by the person, with no intermediary. No vessel is needed to produce the feelings. Rather, the person himself reaches within, finds a melody that expresses his feelings, and produces it. On those lines, the words must fit the melody, as it would be silly to sing a sublime tune to inane lyrics; or, for that matter, to take powerful lyrics and transplant them to a plastic ditty. This is particularly true with regards to words from Tanach – a composer must realize the import of the words and apply an equal tune to them.

But therein lies its inherent weakness – the words give direct meaning to a tune. But some feelings are deeper than words. Sometimes, words simply cannot express what the soul would like to say. This is where wordless songs come in – on the one hand, they have the innate unlimited expression of instrumental music, but they are not locked up in a specific box, as lyrical melodies are. Emotions don’t need words – in fact, the words only get in the way. So within a wordless song can be found true soul-expression.

Here are two enlightening stories that help us understand the capabilities inherent in music. The protagonist of both is Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, better known as the Baal Hatanya or the Alter Rebbe.

Rabbi Shneur Zalman had a disciple named R’ Moshe Feldman, who had a uniquely beautiful voice. This R’ Moshe would go out into the fields with a sefer, and study and sing to Hashem; hence his name, “Feld-man,” or “man of the field”.

Once R’ Moshe was sitting in the Beis Medrash of Liadi along with R’ Pinchas Reitzes. The two were studying with younger Chassidim, when the Baal Hatanya himself walked into the room. He sat down at the table with the group, and after a few moments of quiet introspection, he said, “There is a mishna in Tractate Shabbat that reads, ‘With what objects may an animal carry outside a domain, and with what objects are not permissible for the animal to carry out of the domain?’ On a mystical level, we may interpret this mishna as follows: Our daily prayer time is the Shabbat of the weekday. Accordingly, the mishna is then asking, with which divine service is it possible to draw one’s animal soul upwards? There are many types of animal souls – camels, horses, donkeys, etc. Every level of the animal soul needs its own service, but the general service that applies equally to them all is hinted to in the mishna, which continues, ‘All animals that wear collars (Baalei Sheir) may enter and exit with collars.’ The word ‘Sheir’ is the same as the word ‘Shir’, which means song. By singing during prayer, one has the ability to draw the animal soul upwards, to refine the goodness within it, and to awaken within oneself a state of inner comprehension.”

****

Another time, the Baal Hatanya explained this mishna slightly differently. He explained that Baalei Shir means “Masters of Song”, referring to souls and angels, which experience their spiritual ascents through music.

This statement was ridiculed by the opponents of the Chassidic movement, and the Chassidim of the town of Shklov found themselves under verbal attack due to it. Some time later, the Baal Hatanya himself visited Shklov, and owing his reputation as a great scholar, all the local scholars brought Torah questions for him to answer. To everyone’s surprise, he simply listened to all the questions, and told everyone that he would answer them publicly at a later time.

And so it was – the entire town gathered in the town’s largest synagogue, and the Baal Hatanya ascended the dais. Surveying the crowd, he said, “You would like me to answer your questions. Very well, I shall do so by virtue of a niggun. After all, the mishna states that all Masters of Song ascend through song!” And with that, he began to sing a niggun with great ecstasy.

Nothing could be heard in the synagogue other than the Rebbe’s voice. The onlookers felt themselves bewitched by the tune, as a sense of deep spirituality descended on all present. Without realizing it, all the knotty problems and questions they had brought fell apart in each individual’s own mind!

Rabbi Yosef Kolbo was one of the great scholars present, and he told this story to Rabbi Avraham Sheines, who himself repeated it to the Baal Hatanya’s grandson, the Tzemach Tzedek – Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch. Rabbi Yosef said, “I had four serious questions that I had been working to solve for many months. I presented these problems to all the scholars of Vilna and Slutzk, and no one gave me any satisfying solutions. When these questions answered themselves in my mind after this experience, I felt just like a child! But it was that experience that brought me to the point of becoming a Chassid – I thought to myself, if this man can open my mind to Torah like that at the dais, he certainly can open my heart at the shtender, during prayer!”

***

So this Shabbos, when you sit down to pray, do so with a tune. Let it take you somewhere else – upwards and outwards, and you may very well find that all the problems of your week  are then answered by themselves.

Brilliant rock and blues guitarist virtuoso Lazer Lloyd is finalizing the finishing touches of his latest album! Lloyd, who previously led the band Yood, has been very popular in Israel’s rock scene as of late. His Jewish themed songs mix easily with his covers of classics, amid fluid solos and tight grooves. If you haven’t heard of this incredible musician, now’s the time to check him out: www.LazerLloyd.com

And here’s a video of one of the acoustic songs on the upcoming album:

With Parshat Beshalach this week, how could we not present an explanation on the Shirat Hayam? We’ll return to our regularly scheduled exploration of music next week. :-)

The Song at the Sea has many angles of study that are absolutely fascinating. On of the interesting medrashim on this incredible national experience of music is a Gemara in Tractate Sotah, which recounts the following three way discussion:

The question is, what is the meaning of the term “leimor”, i.e. “saying”,  after the Torah already told us “Az yashir”, “then they sang”? So we have three different opinions.

Rabbi Akiva explains that they sang it as an adult would read the Hallel, to fulfill others’ obligation. This means that Moshe sang it, and the people responded with singing simply the chorus, “I will sing to Hashem,” and nothing more.

Rabbi Eliezer states that they sang it as a child who reads the Hallel, in which everyone repeats it line by line from him. So Moshe sang, and the people repeated each phrase exactly as he said it.

Rabbi Nechemia has a totally different take – he says that it was sung as a Chazan who begins Shema, and then everyone reads it together. He says that Moshe began the song by singing Ashira LaHashem (I will sing to Hashem), and then the entire Jewish people simultaneously composed and sang that song together – including babies in their mothers’ wombs!

One of the truly beautiful ideas taken from this machloket is that in reality, these three sages were disagreeing about the essence of leadership and the unity that one can attain through leadership.

For Rabbi Akiva, the leader’s job is to be the active producer, and the job of the followers is to support their leader. This support doesn’t necessarily need to be that active; as long as the job is getting done and things are being accomplished. The people express their unity in their support of the leader.

To the contrary; Rabbi Eliezer declares! A true leader must show the people what to do, and the people are unified in doing it together.

And then Rabbi Nechemia comes with a completely new idea of leadership – the leader shows how things begin, and with his inspiration, the people develop the idea themselves and in total and absolute unity.

This last opinion shows how this experience was so pivotal that the Torah marks it as a template for what will happen when Moshiach comes. The Talmud in Sanhedrin uses this verse as one of the source texts for the resurrection of the dead. After all, the verse says “Then they will sing”. But when you consider the level of intense joy and utter unity, as well as complete dedication to a singular cause by an entire people, one can understand the relativity to the Messianic Era, when all humanity will sing as one.

In an effort to explore the Jewish aspect of Jewish music, our very own Hislahavus will be sharing an inspiring weekly message on Jewish music on JMR every Friday.

Our Sages tell us about ten special songs, representing deep and cosmic messages. The first of these tunes was composed by Adam, the first human, and the last will be composed by Moshiach himself. The others include pivotal moments in Jewish history, such as the Song at the Sea. But really, what is music all about? How much importance does it really have within Judaism? What about the feelings it produces?

While these may seem like airy, theoretical questions, they actually have very specific answers, spread across the wealth of the Judaic library. JMR is proud to begin a new, weekly column, which will (G-d willing) appear every Friday, translating and explaining statements of our Sages throughout the generations regarding music.

One of the most revealing statements about Judaism’s attitude towards music is the quote of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi,
paraphrasing Rabbeinu Bachaye, “If words are the quill of the heart, then music is the quill of the soul.” Music is essential in the attempt to bridge the yawning gap between body and soul. This was always true – when the prophet Elisha wished to prophesy, he asks to bring the musicians so he can restore himself to the state of joy that one must be present within to gain the prophetic state. And the purpose of the Leviim in the Beit Hamikdash was not for mere background music, to say nothing of entertainment. The Leviim were astute observers of the sacrifice-bringers, and would play songs that matched the mood necessary for a particular sacrifice. For example, if the Leviim were to notice an Israelite bringing a thanksgiving sacrifice with a gloomy look, they would play something upbeat and move the man out of his lethargy. And if they noticed someone cracking jokes while bringing a sin offering, they would play a tune meant to bring him awareness of his deeds and draw him towards true repentance.

So it’s quite a stretch to say that Chassidism “invented” the idea of song and dance in Judaism. Like all of Chassidism’s innovations, this was merely the case of picking up an essential part of Judaism that had lain dormant and dusty for way too long. The Baal Shem Tov composed songs of his own, while encouraging his students to compose tunes. Rejection of this approach came from opponents of the movement, who invoked a Halachic imperative not to sing songs amid revelry due to mourning for the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash. However, most Jews understood this not to include songs that bring one to spiritual ecstasy, and this approach was soon all but forgotten.

Putting the history aside, many Chassidic masters began to explore not just music itself, but the inner workings of music. Rebbes of the Modzhitz and Chabad dynasties in particular wrote many essays on the topic. In this weekly column, we will explore some of those essays, as well as earlier works, recount stories and try to unearth the mystery of music – to the tune of Judaism.

Check in with us every Friday!

Dear Jewish Music Producer,

Hi!

I’d like to introduce myself – I’m Hislahavus. I guess I’d call myself a “semi-professional listener.” Or, as others might call it, a music snob. I’m a music junky. I’m not (really) a musician; I never studied music in a class, I’ve only intensely studied the music that you’ve produced. I’m pretty particular about what I buy and which music sits on my iPod. I’ve always tried to keep my ears focused on quality music, and I deeply appreciate all the effort that has been going into the JM world, picking up the quality of the work out there.

Now that we’ve gotten to know each other a bit, I have a few suggestions. You can call them constructive criticisms, or gripes, or whatever you’d like. But I mean it for the best – I really do. Here are a few thoughts from one of your biggest fans.

• Don’t put an old recording on a new album. And when you rerecord an old song, make sure to add something significant.
o This is a general rule – rerecording songs umpteen times doesn’t necessarily make them any better each time. Find a reason to put it out again – make it better, ala MBD and his English Collection (for the most part. I still like the originals of Pray and Sing and Just One Shabbos better), or Piamentas with Asher Bara on 1990, versus the original, on Mostly Horas. But taking an old song, not doing a thing to it, and just pasting it on a new album? Come on – that’s a waste of a track. And how about taking an oldie that’s been redone dozens of times? Find some new material!

• Keep songs over 3.5 minutes and under 6 minutes.
o You know how this works – it could be a wonderful song, but when it just drags on and on and on, with several false endings and numerous modulations, changes of beats and tones, etc… As they say, too much of a good thing is not a good thing. Don’t keep beating the song into the ground! Six minutes is usually about the limit for your listeners. By that point, we’re ready to move on. But the same works on the other end of the spectrum (although hardly anyone does this any more) a song that sits at less than 3 minutes might as well not even be there. You hardly have any time to get into it! 3.5 minutes is about the minimum I can handle.

• 10-13 songs per album is great. More than that is overwhelming.

o As we said before, more is not necessarily better. Let your fans be excited for more, rather than overwhelming them with so much material that they get sick of you. Even more than that – a good album is a work of art. The songs compliment each other, and each time through the album, you get to know each song intimately, as you listen to the messages and the slight nuances of the vocals and arrangements. When there are 15 songs on an album it’s simply too many to put together in my mind, and the album doesn’t retain that critical element of continuation that makes it worthwhile to listen to again and again and again.

• Don’t break up a song/medley into separate tracks.
o Ugh! This is SO annoying for iPod users, who now make up 98% of your listeners!

• Concept albums need to be very good. Otherwise they’re just forgotten.
o I know, it’s so exciting! Another wedding album! Another Shabbos album! Another Yom Tov album! Another… you get the point. I have no problems with good collections. But if you want them album to continue selling past the first week, and for the album to remain one that we’ll listen to for many years, stick to normal music. If you really HAVE to do a concept album, that’s fine – just make sure there’s something original about it, and a reason to listen to it a year from now. This is true of concept songs as well – for instance, Y2K was a bust. Now that song is in the dustbin of history.

• Over-arrangements.
o This is not just a disease. Sometimes it feels like a full-out epidemic. Let a song win us over – don’t add more and more and more instruments and segues and beginnings and endings, and think that it will somehow make things better. Sometimes – nay, often! – it makes things worse!

• High-pitched child soloists.
o I love a beautiful choir, with intricate harmonies and youthful soloists. High pitched screeching and nasal wailing? Not so much. If you need to listen to how children’s voices should be used, listen to London School of Jewish Song’s self-titled1991 album, or Tzlil V’Zemer Boys Choir’s Let Us Grow. Or Meydad Tasa, if you’re looking for something of more recent vintage. A child’s ability should be measured by their control and ability to manipulate the tune, rather than the sheer intensity and pitch height.

I think that’s all for right now. Others may add things that I didn’t think of, or perhaps disagree with me. But, between us, it’s good to get it off my chest, and more importantly, I hope you find some of this unasked-for (and maybe even unwanted) advice worthwhile, coming from a loyal listener. Thanks so much for all you do – bringing quality Jewish music to brighten up our day, to inspire us, and to paraphrase Abie Rotenberg, get us all a bit closer to Hashem!

With love and appreciation, I remain,

Hislahavus

Isaac Bitton’s Generation Redemption:

Isaac Bitton is a member of a rare breed in the Jewish music world – a composer, singer and virtuoso drummer. It’s worth your time to check out his fascinating backstory on his website, www.isaacbitton.com, but suffice it to say that he was the leader of a successful 70’s rock band in France, Les Variations, which toured the US with the likes of The Who. After becoming observant, he released two great albums and then basically disappeared. The album he just released, Generation Redemption, was originally recorded in the mid ‘90’s but never finished. While the setlist tells you that there are 6 songs, there are actually 3 – Hashem Malach and Utechaye Lanu I and II is one continuous song. (While I understand the split, they should have actually split that song at 2:12 of Utechaye Lanu I.) That’s what caused me to label it an EP, despite the fact that it is being sold as a full length album. Timewise, it makes up 45 minutes of solid music, so consider it whatever you wish.

I find myself connecting most to Utechaye Lanu II, with its snazzy beats, belting harmonies and power drumming, but I love the instrumentation all the way through the album. There’s clarity in the music that is truly awesome, with credit as much due to the studio engineers as to the brilliant musicians. The wild guitar/violin duets that old fans remember are still there, as are Bitton’s master percussive sounds.

Practically speaking, this is a depiction of Sephardic sensibility with infusions of classic rock and bits of Africa and the Caribbean. You pick up real moments of greatness, making me pine for more. (Particularly, why didn’t they include the tenth song of Songs for a Brother 1, which has not been released to the digital age? In an album that begs for more tracks, this would have been an easy fix.) It’s simply a pity that there’s not more music here.

With all that, you still have 45 minutes of solid, sometimes dominating music. The sizzling beat gives you head-bobbing madness, and the crisp sound of the wailing guitar is real musical pleasure. The English lyrics are given most of their character by Bitton’s deep, resonant voice and Moroccan/Sephardic inflection (as it did to his classic songs, Holy Man and In the Field). Old fans will find what to dig deep into here, while I’d suggest that those as of yet unacquainted with Bitton should start with his first, highly recommended album and only then acquire this EP, as it is best appreciated within the body of his entire work rather than on its own.

Eden’s Knock at the Door:

For a Jewish rock trio, bridging the gap between grunge and punk rock is usually not attempted. Eden ventures out there successfully with this solid EP of six songs. Eden had produced one earlier album about five years ago, called Break of Dawn. That record is decent in its own right, but quite sophomoric in comparison with the bold and thick sounds produced on this EP.

Yigdal begins the album with heavy and heady sounds, creating a thick Pearl Jam-like sound with the words of the classic prayer. This easy-to-follow but heavy song is my favorite on the EP, despite the fact that this genre doesn’t always speak to me. The guitar solo towards the end of the tune flows easily and while it doesn’t quite reach transcendent, it is executed professionally. The next number, The One Above, is an exploration of Shema. Good lyrics, but my take on it is that they spend too much time and energy on the hook. Lo Yisa Goy reaches lighter to a degree. I like the chest-driven vocals, again, with a good message amid the power of the drums and bass. A little silence and stretched notes within the solo would have taken this piece up a notch, but it’s good nonetheless. The Angels’ Prelude is a cool instrumental piece straight out of Seattle performed to heavenly perfection, but just too short, as it’s just a prelude to Lecha Dodi. That song takes a while to get started, but eventually explodes into cacophonous guitar and drum riffs. The tune remains weak, but Eden gets points for their spirited performance. The last tune, Kadish, belongs on their first album, with an unfinished composition and less than stellar production.

This is an excellent pickup for someone looking for something on the heavier side of Jewish music. Check it out at www.EdenMusic.net.

Love solo piano? Here’s a treat for you: In a first for Jewish music, a new album is about to be released of entirely new compositions for piano, composed by pianist Sarah Dukes, and performed by the peerless Yaron Gershovsky. “We were looking for a pianist who really understood the compositions, and after trying a few musicians, we sat down with Yaron, who played them perfectly,” says Dukes. The new album, called Finding Forever, will be released around Chanukah time. And if you want a little bit of pre-release listening pleasure, go to www.SarahDukesMusic.com or to http://www.reverbnation.com/sarahdukes.

You can hear samples of the CD here. The CD and Digital Download will be available through Aderet Music at www.mostlymusic.com

Hislahavus: Some of your compositions on this album seem to have tones like niggunim; particularly Eitan and Zeidy. Thoughts on that?

Andy Statman: My Hollywood Girls – and I’ll have to tell you about that name – in its essence is like an old Chassidic march, but we set it up when we recorded it to do something else with it. It’s a Jewish song, and Bela! What a great job! That’s some of Bela’s most adventurous playing – it was really a great vehicle for him! And the steel player, and the trombone… it’s basically a Chassidic march done in its own way.

H: So where did the name Hollywood Girls pop up from?

AS: My daughter has five girls under the age of 8, and they live in Lakewood, New Jersey on Hollywood Avenue!

Eitan and Zeidy is also written as a Jewish melody that has other influences happening in some of the other sections. But it’s also essentially a Jewish song. And there’s also Waltz for Mom, which is to me almost like an old Chassidic waltz. There’s a place where some of the Chassidic waltzes can be from almost any culture – they can be central European, they can be Cajun, they can be from Georgia. A lot of it has to do with the feeling that’s put behind it, and a little of the rhythmic conception of the song.

H: So what goes into the naming of a composition?

AS: The names go in at the last minute. They have to be named something!

H: You seem to begin albums with a pensive song. Are you making a statement with that about your music?

AS: I used to do this all the time with concerts – in general, live, if you start with something a little more introspective it gives the musicians a little more time to warm and really sink their teeth into something. A lot of different types of Central Asian types of music would also start with something a little more pensive.

H: Old Brooklyn, however, seems to have a much lighter and playful tone. Why?

AS: Yeah – it’s a fun tune. I’ve always wanted to do a CD that I’d be able to mix everything together that I do live. We tried to do that with the last two records, Awakening From Above and East Flatbush Blues, but there’s no way they could be on the same recording together. So this time I wrote tunes and picked ensembles in ways of doing them so that you’d have a program that worked, and you could go back and forth between mandolin and clarinet, as well as stylistically. Old Brooklyn goes through various, for lack of a better word, genres – though it’s its own type of thing – and after that is Hollywood Girls, which is its own thing, and then it goes into this old obscure Ozark tune which is done in our own way, and then into the Lord Will Provide, with Ricky, which is a universal lyric – although it’s sung in a gospel style. It’s one of these universal messages: How can you doubt that G-d will give you food, He gives the birds food… It’s very beautiful lyrically.

H: Ricky sings it very hartzig, almost like a niggun.

AS: Oh! He sang it absolutely beautiful! It’s in the real authentic style. And my playing is a combination of styles. There’s a Greek and Albanian style music that I studied from E. Brooks, so it’s a combination of that, klezmer and Charlie Parker. This song became its own thing, and to me, it’s like some sort of field recording from a hundred years ago.

Then it goes into the thing with the tea kettle! That certainly has a number of Jewish things going on there as well. There’s a solo clarinet piece called Life Cycles, which is very much like a type of niggun. That song actually was done on the second CD, with the song called Bourbon in Jackson Hole – it’s basically the same melody played with the band in a different style!

H: I didn’t even pick that up!

AS: Y’know, I don’t think anyone has, to tell you the truth!

H: In the past, you seem to have shied away from overdubbing, sticking instead to live music. Old Brooklyn has a few spots of your mandolin and clarinet together, although always with one playing background. Is there anything in that that is changing the way you approach recording music, or is this just what you decided to do for this one particular album?

AS: I’ve done that here and there before on other albums. When you’re doing a studio album with larger ensembles, then all sorts of things become available to you. We made it so it would sound live, but it’s impossible for me to be playing mandolin and three different clarinet parts simultaneously. So it’s a studio record mixed so it would sound live, rather than a studio production. All the basic tracks are in fact live. It wasn’t done in stages like some of these other records are. So basically it’s live recordings, but with overdub enhancements. Not on all the cuts, but just on a few.

H: If there were one musical artist you could meet and play with over history, who would it be and why?

AS: I have no idea! That’s hard to say – there are so many great musicians!

H: Did you ever play with Bill Monroe, the father of bluegrass?

AS: Only when I was a kid. I was really very nervous – I was about 15 or 16. He was really very generous and very kind. But I was just a kid in awe of this guy, and Bill Monroe was this big tall guy wearing a cowboy hat and a suit – a really larger than life figure, and I was completely intimidated. But I guess I had the courage to do it, and I’m glad I did. But when I got older, I lost interest in his music. So when I could have done it on a professional level, I wasn’t in those circles; and even when I was, it didn’t hold interest in me because my musical interest had moved on to other areas. But I worked with a lot of musicians who were [in his bad, the] Bluegrass Boys at one time.

H: Considering that you are a Levi, does that influence or inspire you in some way?

AS: It’s part of your family heritage, so it definitely plays a part. I’m certainly aware of it. I was thinking of this the other because someone told me that [Art] Garfunkel of Simon and Garfunkel was a Levi, and the great harmonica player Howard Levy I assume is a Levi, and I was told that David Sanborne, the great saxophonist, is a Levi. But there are probably an equal amount or a greater amount of great Jewish musicians who are not Levi’im. But if you’re a Kohen or a Levi, it’s definitely something that you feel, you’re definitely aware of. Particularly if you’re observant, it takes on a role.

H: Considering the fact that you are one of the most emotive and expressive artists in the world today, can you give us an anecdote of a uniquely spiritual musical event that has influenced or continues to influence you?

AS: The deepest thing, for me, I remember many times in Modzhitz on Yom Kippur singing these niggunim during the prayers. It becomes a powerful experience beyond words. I don’t even know how to begin to describe how the music becomes a vehicle to help induce certain feelings that are, I think, core experiences. That’s probably the deepest experiences with music that I have. It’s quite possible you could reach those places without the music, but for me, the music becomes an incredible vehicle to go to those places. It might have been the Imrei Shaul or the Divrei Yisrael of Modzhitz who said, “Some people say that [in Heaven] the gate of music is next to the gate of repentance. But I say the gate of music IS the gate of repentance!” And then there’s the famous quote of the Alter Rebbe, that music can go higher than and beyond words.

H: Is there a difference between how you emote with clarinet and mandolin? Do you approach each tune separately and decide if it fits with mandolin or clarinet, or is it a more natural approach?

AS: It’s a little of both. In general, certain styles of music are better played on certain instruments, and that’s why they gained prominence in those styles. But it’s not a doctrine for me. I’m free, and if I think something works better played on the other instrument, I will play it with the other instrument. That being said, with the klezmer style, particularly in clarinet, it’s a natural voice for Jewish music. It’s all sort of right there for Ashkenazic music. If someone wants to play niggunim correctly, if they learn how to play klezmer music correctly, they’ll understand how to play a nigun and it’ll come out naturally.

H: So is it fair to say that as an American you play mandolin, and as a Jew you play clarinet?

AS: No, because I play a lot of Jewish music on mandolin and American music on clarinet. Probably the most well known song I wrote is a Jewish song called Flatbush Waltz, and that’s a mandolin tune. That’s a song that works better on mandolin, although people do play it on the clarinet. Ultimately, it really depends on the melody, and where it works best for you. For traditional niggunim, by and large, the clarinet has a language set up for it. I don’t think the mandolin was as developed a professional instrument in Eastern Europe, although there were some people who did play the mandolin professionally. There are almost no recordings of people from there who played mandolin in the real Jewish style. There were some mandolin orchestras that played Polish and Russian music, along with Jewish folk songs, but nothing was played in a real Jewish manner.

When JMR first started, we posted an item called “The Lost Albums” regarding albums that have disappeared. Among those albums, we mentioned the classic Megama records, whose most famous song, “My Zeidy”, was for many years the anthem of the Baal Teshuva movement. The Megama Duo, made up of guitarist and vocalist Moshe Yess and the multi-talented Shalom Levine (violin, percussion, vocals, kazoo and more), sang songs that were haunting, humorous, irreverent and ironic. They influenced the likes of Abie Rotenberg and many others.

Now you can get those albums on mp3!*

Visit www.MosheYess.ca to hear the sound of one of Jewish music’s most formative, creative and memorable groups, and to learn more about Moshe Yess.

*While the sound quality ain’t great quite yet, it’ll certainly remind you of the vinyl experience!

Part 1 of a wide-ranging, honest and informative interview with world class master musician, Andy Statman.

Hislahavus: Mazel Tov on your release of the new album, Old Brooklyn! Can you tell us of the reaction so far in the secular and Jewish music worlds to the album?

Andy Statman: There have been some good previews. “American Roots” is a nationally syndicated NPR program, so they’re going to do a feature on it. They do two hours – one hour with one artist and another hour with another artist – so I did an interview with them, and that’ll be [aired] sometime at the end of the year or early January. Generally there have been really good previews. In some cases, they appreciated the level of musicianship and musicality, but they were not used to hearing various combinations of instruments heard together. There’s actually been just one [written] review; the review did laud my playing, and say that there’s a lot of great music there, but you just have to sit down and listen to it. They felt it was worth the effort, but I guess their taste is more in easy listening music – which I think this [album] is anyway. It’s just a question of people’s taste and what they like to listen to.

H: It seems that most of the niggunim you play on your albums are from Modzhitz, Breslov and Chabad. Is there something that draws you to those niggunim?

AS: Aside from being niggunim that I like, these specific niggunim are ones that translate well into instrumental music. Some great niggunim don’t really make it when you play them on instruments, so the ones I play are the ones that work that way. In addition, what they call klezmer music is really instrumental Chassidic music. Ukraine is really the hotbed of klezmer music, as well as Galicia, so particularly for Chabad and Stolin, they’ve picked up that influence. Modzhitz as well, but they also had other influences. The composers in Chabad had a lot of breadth. Vizhnitz also has a lot – but you really have to get the right niggunim. Practically speaking, for Chabad and Modzhitz, a lot of their music is readily available.

H: How does the non-Jewish world react to niggunim? How do secular artists, such as Bela Fleck or Ricky Skaggs, take to niggunim?

AS: They enjoy it a lot. For Bela it has something to do with his own identity as a Jew on one level, and on another level, I think he likes the melodies. I think he enjoys playing them. He’s done a lot of different world music projects, so this is just another one, but this allows him to explore different types of feelings and different types of scales that he doesn’t usually work with so much, so it’s very challenging for him. Ricky is very moved by niggunim, but I don’t think he has really learned any. Bela hasn’t learned much of Jewish music on his own, but he enjoys playing it when we do it. But he plays in his own way. When I’m playing with him, I’m not looking for him to play a specific style, but rather for him to find his own way with the tune. I sort of provide the feeling of where it’s going, and Bela’s such a great musician he’ll just know where to go.

H: Is there another musical art form that you would compare to niggunim? In other words, sometimes it seems that people are shocked by a niggun – they just have never heard anything like it. Is that true just of niggunim, or is it true in other areas of music?

AS: Some niggunim, especially the longer ones, can almost have a stream of consciousness type of feeling to them, when there’s not a lot of editing or refinement of the melody and what it does and where it goes. It depends on the type of melody. If you’re not really acquainted with the type of melody, or with that Chassidic group, it’s really uncharted waters. Once you listen to it a few times, you begin to understand what the tune is doing. That being said, there are some melodies that are better crafted than other melodies. Not all niggunim are the same in terms of quality.

Niggunim are set up to produce a particular type of feeling, and if you’re not privy to that, you’re not going to really understand what’s going on with it. There are many different styles of music that are different than niggunim, but maybe similar in the approach of the niggun of taking you somewhere. Someone who has no idea of, say, classical North Indian music, or Central Asian or Arabic or Turkish music, they wouldn’t really understand what’s going with this one scale and how they’re developing it – particularly in the slow, free, open parts that aren’t very rhythmic. The casual listener is not going to really know what’s going on or have what to latch on to. It’s not necessarily the fault of the singer or the niggun, it’s just that the listener has no experience with such a thing.

I usually tell people that you really need to listen to a CD three or four times before you really have an understanding of what’s going on. You need to reserve judgment until you hear it a few times and understand what’s happening with it. But the truth is that niggunim are really a foreign language for most people.

H: When you play a song or nigun, it seems that each time through, you add different stylistic embellishments and tweaks. Is this a conscious effort, or something that comes naturally?

AS: That’s the just way it’s coming out of understanding the instrumental style that goes along with this and doing it for years. At this point it’s just the way I play the melody. It’s just the way the melody would be best expressed based on the instrument I’m playing by myself. The embellishments would be a spontaneous expression of something in the niggun itself the way I’m feeling at the time. It would be like any time a person who’s a good singer sings a melody, they’ll sing it differently every time – phrase it differently, or maybe add embellishments or ornaments based on that style that are applicable in the type of melody they’re singing. So it’s just something that happens spontaneously.

H: There are a few nigunim you’ve recorded a number of times; e.g. the Breslover Lecha Dodi. Is there a reason for that?

AS: Probably for the particular CD it seemed like it would be a good song for the particular ensemble that was playing and the market it was being geared to.

H: That Lecha Dodi appears on Avodas Halevi and New Shabbos Waltz.

AS: Avodas Halevi was one recording session done in the early 90’s that had never come out, and in it were mixed a bunch of live recording duets I did with drummers. It came from pre-existing sessions. As for New Shabbos Waltz, it seemed that during the ensuing years, the song picked up popularity and was being sung in all sorts of different styles of synagogues, so keeping with the conception of that record – which is pretty much songs that are accessible and better known – this seemed like a good one to do for the ensemble. So that’s why I did it there. The first time, though, I don’t know if it had ever even been recorded. (Benzion Solomon probably did a vocal rendition on one of the series of Breslover niggunim he did.) So we had done those sessions, and for various reasons they never came out, but when John Zorn asked me to put out this record, we figured this would be the perfect way to get these older recordings out, and it was right in line with what he was looking for. So that worked out.

H: Can you tell us of your reaction when you first were introduced to nigunim, outside of their klezmer arrangements? From what I understand, you started getting involved with Judaism because you were searching for the source of these songs. Correct?

AS: Well, so to speak. The klezmer music, which is either niggunim or melodies based on niggunim, was producing feelings that I began exploring. But I remember I heard some of the first instrumental music records that had come out, probably in the early seventies. They were either Chabad or a combination of Satmar niggunim and other Williamsburg-type niggunim. It was a very different style and type of melody than a lot of the klezmer music that I had heard growing up. But I liked it a lot, and it was only years later after playing klezmer for a long time that I began to realize that these melodies were if not actual niggunim – which a lot of them were – they were melodies that evoked the same feelings that niggunim do. They were set up that way.

H: So you connected to them because of those feelings?

AS: Yes. When I went to Hebrew School as a little boy, the rabbi taught us Alef Beis to a famous Alexander nigun, which I had no idea what it was as a kid, but it lifted everyone in the Talmud Torah. Everyone was in a state of ecstasy when we’d sing this song, which is what the niggun is supposed to do. As it turns out, it was a niggun written by the Alexander Rebbe in 20’s, for an Alexander-Modzhitz Chasuna. It was the famous one sung [to the words of Amar Rabbi Akiva V’ahavta Lereiacha Kamocha]. So that was probably the first niggun I really knew. But it certainly had a profound effect on me and the other students there as well!

H: You’re involved quite a bit in teaching nowadays, and have written a few books that are considered influential classics. What would you suggest to a frum musician who is learning to play niggunim?

AS: As a musician, it depends if they really want to learn how to play this vocal style in an authentic instrumental way. And if they want to do that, they need to listen to the klezmer recordings up to the 1935-1940, with few exceptions. But they really need to understand how these types of melodies were handled instrumentally. Once they’ve really mastered that, they’ll know how to take the vocal music and how to interpret it instrumentally.

H: You picked two niggunim for your new CD, Sabeinu and Mah Yedidus. What led you to those two for this album?

AS: Mah Yedidus is something I’ve been fooling around with for years because it lends itself to bluegrass; certain bluegrass techniques work very well with this tune. We’ve done it live and people have really enjoyed, so it seemed like a good one to record, and it came out nicely.

Sabeinu goes by a lot of other names, and I haven’t met anyone who knows the origin of the melody. I’ve been playing it for years, and I knew Bela would like it. So I taught it to him in the studio. He’s very quick with these kinds of things, and it’s a catchy melody, and we had a good time with it. We gave it a little more introspective type of twist to it.

H: You’ve worked with some of the most well-known artists in the music industry, both in the secular world as well as in the Jewish music world. What do you do when you approach a session for another artist? What did you attempt to do in your sessions with Mordechai Ben David on We are One and Avraham Fried on his niggunim CDs, specifically with Emes?

AS: If I’m being hired, I generally do what I do. I was added [to those albums] for a certain type of color, so to speak. I gave them the color they were looking for; maybe not exactly the way they wanted [originally], but certainly in a way they liked, so it worked out well.

Part 2 of this interview can be found here. You can get Old Brooklyn on iTunes, Mostly Music, Barnes and Noble, or anywhere. Visit www.AndyStatman.org for more information.

NOTE: I wrote this review before my conversation with Statman himself. That exclusive and wide-ranging interview will be published here as well. But there are a few areas of that conversation that clarify or define parts of the album; concepts that I knew nothing of as a simple listener. So, for insider info on this incredible album, stay tuned!

You open up the package, slip the CD in, and thirty seconds later, your jaw has already hit the floor. If you’re a music junky, you’re probably not going to leave the stereo until you finish hearing both CDs – all 25 songs and 1 hour, 36 minutes worth of top of the line, utterly masterful musicianship. Yeah, Andy Statman’s new album, Old Brooklyn, is just that good. Statman has always been adept at coaxing the most out of both of his instruments – clarinet and mandolin – and here, he’s joined by some of the greatest musical craftsmen in the American music world. (The guest list has so many stars it sparkles.) The sheer joy they draw out of each other is palpable. This double album has got it all: Creativity, tradition, humor, and incredible dexterity in searing solos. This album showcases the work of an all-time master.

The album is mandolin heavy, with just eight songs featuring Andy’s clarinet. That also means that there is less klezmer than bluegrass, and jazz and blues are sprinkled in quite liberally as well. It’s also a very uplifting and positive listening experience, as opposed to the unbelievable intensity – say even thick, Chassidic melancholy – Statman has showcased in the past. Don’t get me wrong – I love that stuff too! But this just has a very different feel than quite anything he’s done before. In fact, you may even say that is more accessible than any of his other albums.

The album starts on a very humorous note, with actor John Goodman intoning, “Oooooold Brooklyn!” That is followed by Bruce Molsky strumming up a storm on his banjo, leading to an insane atonal clarinet jam. That bit of craziness ends 52 seconds in, and the band kicks into the first song – a delightful bluegrass set, which segues into a jazz construct at 3:27. At that point, Jon Sholle kicks in with a steel lap guitar piece that is, well, just really cool. Believe it or not, I think this song has some of Andy’s most readable jazz solos, along with his usual speed demon licks. It’s a solid product, and just a taste of what to come.

My Hollywood Girls takes a song that sounds klezmer (despite the name, you can easily slip some words of Tehillim in, and you wouldn’t know the difference. And if you’re wondering how a frum musician names a song something like this, read the interview that we’ll post soon!) With Art Baron on trombone, it has a klezmer background, but Bela Fleck on banjo and his awe-inspiring plucking gives it bluegrass sensibility. Well, that and Marty Rifkin’s pedal steel guitar wailing. But that one ain’t nearly as clearly Kentucky as the next two numbers, which include Andy playing solo clarinet with Ricky Skaggs singing on The Lord Will Provide. The clash there is unique, what with the authentic deep south and country vocals and the Chassidic/European clarinet. And from that clash to the next, where Andy plays a clarinet solo around a wailing tea kettle.

Zhok Mahoney is reminiscent of Andy’s clarinet work on his previous albums; most specifically from Avodas Halevi. He does with his regular trio, including Larry Eagle on drums and Jim Whitney on bass. They stick with the klezmer/jazz fusion, with Andy and Larry running amok with their unique and skilled power-playing.

Eitan and Zeidy is a real highlight, starting with another jazz solo right out of the gate. Here, he’s joined by Paul Shaffer on the organ (among other things, he’s been the Late Night Show’s bandleader and sidekick for decades), and the two of them plus Jon Sholle on electric guitar have a real blast on another tune that could have easily been a Nigun Simcha or Nigun Rikud. What’s with the cry of “Lost, lost!” at the way end of the track? Two more classic bluegrass numbers are followed by a clarinet solo piece called Life Cycles, which in typical Andy greatness, is as much an expression of dveykus as it is clear and powerful clarinet wailing. Another two beautiful bluegrass pieces finish off disc one.

Disc Two starts with the plaintive Bourbon in Jackson Hole, a clarinet country piece (and, as Andy told me, is a bluegrass rendition of the song Life Cycles – although had he not pointed this out, I don’t know if I would have ever noticed!). While it’s fun in its own right, A Boppin’ Crib forces you to turn up the volume on this old blues-rock style number, as Statman, fiddler Byron Berline, Shaffer and Sholle trade solos. As always, Andy gets the last word in edgewise with another solo played with such reckless abandon it leaves everyone shaking their heads. Anthem is one of Andy’s sweet waltzes that have been a hallmark across his career (the most notable being the classic Flatbush Waltz). And Marty Rifkin’s pedal steel guitar adds a gorgeous twist that makes it a real winner. Waltz for Mom is olde-tyme duo with fiddler Bruce Molsky that’s really sweet, but Ocean Parkway After Dark immediately pulls you out of the nostalgic and gently suggests you move out of the way. Or at least that’s how I read the revving engine and squealing tires that begin this rocker. As far as I know, this song is fairly unique in Statman’s repertoire, as he overlaid his own clarinet over his frenetic mandolin. It works in well, along with the subtle but clearly funky brass section.

Fans of niggunim will appreciate the next two songs, Shabbos Nigun, which I’ve heard sung to the words Sabeinu Mituvecha, and the classic Ashkenazic Mah Yedidus, played with appropriate dveykus and Shabbos-inspired joy. Both are excellent additions to Andy’s Chassidic interpretative gems.

Blues in 3 and The One in Nine are fun lighter pieces, with On the King’s Highway another klezmer inspired piece. Uncle Mo returns us to bluegrass again, while 21st Century Chicken Back Blues is another breezy bluesy piece. The album’s finale is the classic bluegrass number, Long Journey Home, with awesome solos from everyone: Sholle, Molsky and Statman providing a colorful ending.

In a word, Old Brooklyn is brilliant. Andy Statman has pulled off another work of genius to add to his world-class discography. While the bluegrass color certainly drives the album in that direction, there is enough subtle shifting, variety and color here even for those who do not necessarily love bluegrass. But let’s be honest here – you have to at least appreciate jazz and blues along with the bluegrass. After all, this album is the quintessential American music – a melting pot of genres, sounds, sentiment and even religion. And it makes for some delectable results.

JMR has just found out that Moroccan rocker, drummer and vocalist Isaac Bitton, is about to release his third album! Bitton attained renown in the ’70′s with his French rock band, called Les Variations. Upon entering a new stage of his life, he formed a frum rock band in the early 1980′s called “Raaya Mehemna” (or, as the Lubavitcher Rebbe suggested he change it to “Raava Mehemna”). That group came out with two classic albums, Songs for a Brother vols. 1 and 2. Vol. 1 has a much more rock sound, while vol. 2 feels more Sefardic; both are a mix of English and Hebrew lyrics. (Both are available on iTunes.)

And then… Years passed without hearing anything from them besides for rumors swirling about an album that was half finished. With Isaac’s guest appearance on Piamenta’s Yihiyu Leratzon (on the awesome Sefardic Az Yashir and Keil Adon, those rumors began to swirl even higher.

Now it’s been officially confirmed: the new album, called Generation Redemption, will be hitting the stores sometime this or next week. Stay tuned for Sefardic rock! And visit www.IsaacBitton.com for more info on Isaac, and to hear the regal sound of Raya Mehemna!

A new artist has appeared on the scene, one who truly defines the word artist. And while his work is somewhat new to the Jewish music world; or at least, has not been seen since the disappearance of Megama. Introducing Moshe Hecht: a true folk/rock singer, who comes with English lyrics and his own compositions. He has a sweet voice, with excellent vocal control and varying styles, and his messaging is positive and artistic. Moshe had the foresight to go where no one else has gone, hiring Steven Ray Allen as his arranger. Allen, who has won seven Emmys for his work on TV documentaries, is a talented producer who really makes the most of Moshe’s voice and creativity. The production is low on gimmicks and high in quality, with the guitar–based arrangements pleasing to listen to, with plenty of texture and nuance. It all makes for a high quality debut album, one that fans of early Matisyahu, Journeys, Megama, 8th Day, Rav Shmuel and Diaspora will very quickly be begging for more.

Believers: (****) Wondering about that unique percussion at the beginning of the song? That’s Moshe’s son’s heartbeat! How’s that for a stroke of genius? You may have heard this song already, as it was released separately as a single. The calming, but solid arrangements calls attention to the band’s attention to detail, with the bass and drums making singularly unique fusion throughout. Moshe belts this number out with great discipline, his voice melting into the tight groove that is his backup perfectly. This song gets better every time I listen to it, and its one-of-a-kind tune is catchy and authentic.

When I’m in Need: (****) Warning: this one’s gonna be stuck in your head. The words are so easy and connectable, and the tune is addictive. So just beware of that. Hecht begins this with an airy solo and a simple acoustic guitar strumming beside him. Delectable folk right there. The rest of the band kicks in halfway through the second verse. Maybe his humming needs a bit of work, but y’know, it works out.

Master of the World: (*****) Now for some reggae. Moshe pulls off this gorgeous piece with aplomb. Particularly noteworthy are his self-harmonies on two octaves. And another comment on the arrangements: Allen keeps the guitar’s presence sweet and classy while not doing too much. And I’m realizing that the album is getting better and better each time I hear it. My only complaint on this song is… I want more!

My Friend: (*****) This incredible song, reflective of Abie Rotenberg’s Who Am I, was written for the amazing worldwide Chabad organization, The Friendship Circle, which pairs teens up with special needs kids to befriend them and to assist their parents. But the message itself can easily portray other deep friendships as well. And while I’ve had the single on my iPod for quite a while now, it is beautifully bracketed by the rest of the album. The strength of this song is absolutely in the emotional lyrics, but again, the arrangements do so much to coax every emotional morsel out of it. Solid.

Hamavdil: (***) Here’s another folky song. This is one of the weaker songs of the album, but that attests to its general strength; it’s a pretty depiction of Havdalah, but it’s pretty simple, too.

The Soul: (***) This one doesn’t do it for me that much. Moshe’s emotional expression is stretched in spots. But it features the first appearance of an electric violin solo in Jewish music since Raava Mehemna’s second album.

Taste: (***) A decent reggae song, but a tad too wordy for me. I like the bridge here better than the rest of the tune. My favorite part of the production is with the harmonies and backup vocals.

Lamplighters: (****) This rockin’ anthem in honor of the Chabad Shluchim across the world was originally released shortly after the Mumbai murders. Here, they redid the arrangements skillfully, giving it more guts and piecing it together much better. They eliminated Moshe’s intro and outro, which was a good idea – I’m not a fan of singers’ verbal intros – and with a few more effects here and there, a good song was reborn. And it’s better than ever.

The term lamplighter is taken from a conversation the fifth Rebbe of Chabad had with a chassid of his. Because that conversation is germane to this song, I’ll record it below, borrowed from www.chabad.org.

Heart is Alive: (***1/2) Another slow song heavily tinted with folk. I find the lyrics of the first verse to the rest of the song a bit disjointed. Despite that, this beautiful tune is another great composition that’s easy to sing with and very easy to connect to. Steven Ray Allen kept it very light, with some light guitar picking and a sensible violin. Good feel.

Inspire Me: (*****) Kaboom! Power is the go-to word for this awesome jazzy song, with a phenomenal vocal performance, some poignant lyrics and all-around excellence in the instrumentation. My only critique? I’d have picked up the guitar and violin solos a bit more than he did. But I’m a real fan of the drums here – they’ve got soul.

K’Ayol Taarog: (****) Whoah – what a job on this nigun! You’ll probably know the tune itself from Fried’s The Baal Shem Tov Song, but here, it’s done real justice, with a haunting guitar and some unbelievable harmony. Love it!

Father in Heaven: (****) Jam session! That’ll get me every time! And here it loops you back to the beginning of the album, which almost forces you to listen to the album again. Good gimmick, guys – now I’m addicted!

This album is a must buy. It really gets better every time you listen to it, and it has some real gems. I’m going to reach out and give it 4 and ½ stars – it is an excellent album, truly masterful; and it would be so even if it were not a debut. We’ve got a star developing here – go Moshe!

In 1907, Rabbi Sholom DovBer of Lubavitch was staying in Würzburg, Germany, and a group of Chassidim came to spend a Shabbat with the Rebbe. Among them were Reb Yosef Yuzik Horowitz, his son-in-law Reb Feivel Zalmanov, and Reb Elimelech Stoptzer. The Rebbe prayed for many hours that Shabbat morning, as was his manner. In the meanwhile, the Chassidim made kiddush and consumed a quantity of lechayim’s. Later, when the Rebbe had finished and they sat with him to the Shabbat meal, Reb Yosef Yuzik asked:
“Rebbe, what is a Chassid?”

Replied the Rebbe: “A Chassid is a lamplighter. The lamplighter walks the streets carrying a flame at the end of a pole. He knows that the flame is not his. And he goes from lamp to lamp to set them alight.”

Asked Reb Yosef Yuzik: “What if the lamp is in a desert?”

“Then one must go and light it,” said the Rebbe. “And when one lights a lamp in a desert, the desolation of the desert becomes visible. The barren wilderness will then be ashamed before the burning lamp.”

Continued the Chassid: “What if the lamp is at sea?”

“Then one must undress, dive into the sea, and go light the lamp.”

“And this is a Chassid?” Reb Yosef Yuzik asked.

For a long while the Rebbe thought. Then he said: “Yes, this is a Chassid.”

“But Rebbe, I do not see the lamps!”

Answered the Rebbe: “That is because you are not a lamplighter.”

“How does one become a lamplighter?”

“First, you must reject the evil within yourself. Start with yourself: cleanse yourself, refine yourself, and you will see the lamp within your fellow. When a person is himself coarse, G-d forbid, he sees coarseness; when a person is himself refined, he sees the refinement in others.”

Reb Yosef Yuzik then asked: “Is one to grab the other by the throat?”

Replied the Rebbe: “By the throat, no; by the lapels, yes.”

So this is it. The “King of Jewish Music” and his last album – Kissufim. I don’t think any of us expected it to be like this – not the singer of Moshiach, Maaminim and Just One Shabbos! – but in the end, it’s up to the artist to go where he wants. And in this case, R’ Mordechai chose to end his career with an austere, laid back, heimishe product rather than a hit-heavy, modern, pop album.

I think the name is well chosen. Some of MBD’s all-time greatest moments are on his slower, most hartzig numbers. The title of the album shows where he has been at emotionally, and what he was always trying to drive spiritually. In interviews, he has said that this album was one that he wanted to put out for a while, but for the life of me, I don’t understand exactly what he was pointing at. This album is very similar to Kumzits, albeit with a more Heimishe feel. It also has a few modern pop tunes tossed in, seemingly for the younger crowd. It also has niggunim, but he’s produced many albums with niggunim. As for the heimishe tunes; well, he’s had dozens of heimeishe tunes on previous albums as well. Maybe someone can enlighten me on what is so utterly unique about this that he saved it for last.

In any case, it’s a nice album, even if the end product is a bit surprising. Here we go, song by song:

Shulem Aleichem: The barebones arrangement here, with a guitar accompanied by accordion alongside men’s and boys’ choirs, reminds me of the ancient London School of Jewish Song album (yeah, the one with Yekum Purkan on it). That itself was a shock. But this very hemishe tune is one with a strongly Galicianer Chassidic feel, and as a result, I’m sure you’ll hear quite it a bit Friday nights in Boro Park and Williamsburg. I’m surprised he opened the album with this song –a completely atypical beginning for a modern album.

Menichu Vesimchu: The arrangements on this number echoes the first, with the percussion providing shades of Veshulmu, from Efshar Letaken. This tune is also one that will probably appeal to Zemiros singers – simple, elegant and hartzig. A bit more arrangement would have been nice – maybe some harder piano would have given it a bit more definition. As for vocals, Mordche goes Shlomo-like with the humming harmonies towards the end of the song, adding to the appeal. However, as the next song stays slow, I think they should have really picked up the pace towards the end.

Al Kein Tzion: The intro to the song is jolting, and doesn’t really speak to me, but the song itself is very beautiful. The child soloist does solid work, as does the Shira Choir with the backup vocals. The arrangements have a bit more oomph than the previous two songs, with the presence of a violin and piano. And MBD does some of his patented emotional harmonies. But the flow of the album just hasn’t quite established itself yet. For that, we’re just going to have to wait for the next song, one of the guaranteed hits on the album.

Shomrei: In absolute contrast to the three earlier tunes, this song has a funky musical and vocal intro. The electric guitar and solid beat energize you, and MBD’s voice sounds as close to his prime as it has in a while. The colorful solo smack in the middle gives it an additional boost; along with some awesome harmonics all the way through. And I love the ending. But let’s face it – it seems that this song was a compromise for the younger set. That being said, it’s probably going to be everyone’s favorite song of the album.

Hazkiri: It seems that with each song, they’ve added something to the basic guitar-led arrangements. Here, we have a mandolin leading the way, on another slow piece. You can easily see MBD shuckeling his way through this nigun, written by the holy R’ Yisrael of Ruzhin, and he sings it with gusto, as befits a nigun of this stature.

Talmidei HaTzemach Tzedek: Here’s where we get into my favorite section of the album, but maybe I’m just biased, given that the next three songs of Chabad niggunim. This gorgeous and rare nigun is usually sung slowly, but MBD and the boys put on a good show with a faster pace. Here’s an example of a song matching the arrangement exceedingly well, especially a nigun – where the intended focus of the tune in the first place was on the vocals. Still,  the ending comes a bit too quickly for me, leaving me pining for a little more.

Anim Zemiros: The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught this gentle nigun to Chassidim himself, on a Simchas Torah evening back in the 60’s. It has a rather lengthy back-story, which is something for a different time. The crux of the story is that as a heavenly reward for an extraordinary act of kindness, a Jew spent an entire Yom Kippur immersed in this tune – meriting a taste of Gan Eden while still in this world. Put in the very able hands of Mordechai ben David and the Shira Choir, alongside a very elegant arrangement, this song is performed to virtual musical perfection.

Chabad Tantz: While Avraham Fried had performed this tune on Hupp Cossack, here it has much more power. It’s sung here as fast as it typically is in shuls, where it is often sung to the words of Lecha Dodi. This also is one of the few songs on the album that has merited a more expanded arrangement – done stylishly and thoughtfully. Great job.

Hashivaini: Here we go right back – in style and in form – to Hazkiri. This nigun was composed by R’ Pinchas Friedman of Belz – presumably an einikel of the Ruzhiner. Anyone know if I’m correct on that? Whatever the case, the similarity of the nigunim and arrangement takes away from the solid performance. Oh well.

Nichsefo: A pop piece that could have used a few rewrites. The tune is overly simplistic, and the words don’t really fit the message. Hey, if you were going through the experience of klos hanefesh, where your soul is trying to break free of your body to cleave to Hashem, would you be singing this? But vocally, MBD does his best, and as always, succeeds to strengthen one of his weaker ones.

Kissifim: Oht azoy! MBD’s true final musical message, (albeit via Lipa’s verbal and poetic skills) with this pretty, poignant and sensible Yiddish song about our desire to serve Hashem despite the struggles. I only wish he had put out an English song to match.

Simchas Torah Medley: Back we go to the classic Jewish pop arrangement style of the Chabad Tantz. Nice choice of tunes for this happy-go-lucky medley. MBD, however makes only rare appearances on this track – and no solos.

Werdyger Medley: Another Ani Maamin for MBD?! I’d have nixed that first choice for this medley. In any case, the child soloist bends the notes a few times too many, in both this and the next song – Yiboneh. This whole medley would have fit nicely on an album in the 80’s, but it’s only a feeble match for this album.

Ashreini: And finally, a solid, classy number for MBD’s finale. This song retains the guitar-centric accompaniment of the entire album, but with much more snazz than the rest of the album. Extra-solid percussion lift it above for a totally enjoyable and highly catchy hit.

Tachlis: All in all, while Kissufim is certainly not MBD’s best album,* it’s still a beautiful album. The Shira Choir does an excellent job, with graceful harmonies that accent MBD’s voice very well. I would have played with the order of songs a bit, to give it a bit better flow. An additional critique is in terms of his stage time versus the Shira Choir. I understand that they got top billing alongside him, but the fact remains that this is an MBD album! I think we would have liked to hear a little more Mordche. If you loved Kumzits, chances are that you’ll love Kissufim as well. The King deserves your patronage: grab your copy of his final album today!

*We’ll discuss MBD’s best album in an upcoming post, G-d willing. I still need to buy a few more of his albums before I write it.

What makes an album great? Obviously, there are many aspects, but I did a quick experiment. I pulled up iTunes and sorted my 350+ albums by highest rated. As I had thought, I don’t have that many albums that I give a full five stars to – after all, I’m a bit of a critic. Only 20 albums end up with that (dubious?) distinction; as compared to about 65 albums with 4 stars. But what is the common denominator between them? Let’s look at a handful of albums, and what makes them great. (Go ahead and disagree with me! Continue the discussion by posting your thoughts in the comments on the bottom.)

1. Piamentas’ The Way You Like It: 9 songs isn’t that many, but considering the all-around class and quality, this is one of the top albums ever produced. The Piamentas have three other brilliant albums (1990, Big Time, Strings of my Heart), but this one is one that I’ve shown to many professional musicians – and I’ve heard only agreement that it’s a real work of art.

Hits: Od Yishama and Yalla Mashiach are two of Piamenta’s all-timers.
Classics: The Piamentas borrowed the classic Sefardi zemer Chabibi, and jazzed it up with some out-of-this-world jamming, alongside heartfelt vocals. They also borrowed a Belzer niggun and gave it a simple, but elegant treatment.
Duds: None.
What makes it great: The arrangements are fresh, unique and authentic. The song selection is top rate. And the second half of the album is even better than the first – making you want to play the entire album again and again. Besides, every song has a particular quality, or even moments of greatness that your ears can find pleasure in – every time you listen to it.

2. Lipa’s Keineinhora: A classy album, with musical treats all the way through. Lipa uses his voice to utter perfection in Nisht Im Shabbos Geredt and Chalom Chulamti. And the sheer amount of genres that somehow seem to fit together without contradicting each other, is refreshing. And that’s not even mentioning the lyrical genius, poignancy and humor scattered throughout.

Hits: Raboisai, Sheli Shelach, Galgal Hachozer
Duds: Shivaati is the only song I don’t particularly care for. Eliminate it, and you still have 12 songs of far-better-than-average quality.
What makes it great: This is another album that can sit in my CD player forever. Each song is a gem – a complete package of thought-through lyrics, out-of-the-box arrangements, and solid (when not great) vocals. You find that the album brings you to listen to more – from the first song and on.

3. Diaspora’s Jerusalem is Calling: You didn’t expect this one coming, did you? This is another well-produced album with plenty of variety. Pick a genre: Rock, pop, blues, classic rock, country – there’s a little bit of all of them sprinkled throughout. Avraham Rosenblum’s deep vocals excel here, and the lyrics of the brilliant title track and Shira Kayam are just perfect. Moe Rosenblum’s drums always impress me.

Hits: Changing Now was used on BT Rock, but besides that, I don’t know how much attention this album got.
Duds: Carlebach’s Hinei Anochi isn’t badly done, but did it need to appear here? It’s the one song that never seems to fit in.
What makes it great: Again, here we have another fun album with humor (Shema Bni), emotion (Yoshev), and highly skilled musicianship. There’s a great balance between the high-powered songs (Bar Yochai, Mi K’amcha, etc.) and the sweeter songs.

4. Mordechai ben David’s We Are One: Okay, I spent a while thinking which MBD album to stick in here. I could easily give credit to Let My People Go, Hineni, or even Kulom Ahuvim – all phenomenal albums. But We Are One is one album that seems to have it all – fast and slow; lyrics in English, Yiddish and Ivrit; emotion and excitement; great solos and beautiful arrangements; great background choirs, etc. It’s flat out awesome.

Hits: It seems that only Lulei Soroscha was the only song that became extremely popular.
Duds: The slightly boring L’chu Vonim
What makes it great: The mix. Another excellent offering of varying styles and emotions, combined with the fact that MBD’s voice was still at the height of its expressive ability.

5. Shuly Rand’s Nekudah Tovah: This beautiful folksy album sold over 60,000 copies in Israel, as we’ve noted before. This has mostly to do with its sincerity – both musical and vocal, but mostly lyrical. I still find it frustrating that English-speaking vocalists haven’t picked up the slack regarding good English lyrics. (Journeys, Megama, Destiny and 8th Day are some of the few groups that managed to do it consistently over a few albums. And if you want to go way back, I guess you could include JEP.) But this is a truly great album – raw, honest and inspirational. What more can you ask of $15?

Other personal favorites include Kol Achai’s Bekarov, Lipa’s Me’imka Delipa, Andy Statman’s Between Heaven and Earth, Groyse Metsie’s Hatenuah Leshichrur Hameyutar, and Meydad Tasa’s Ben Shel Melech.

It seems to me that the albums I love most need to have a combination of creativity, emotion and variety. That’s how I get pulled into them, and enjoy every time I put ‘em on.

What says you?

It is worthwhile to flashback sometimes. When you haven’t listened to something for many years, you may be missing something that you hadn’t noticed. So it’s flashback time: I do not think it would be an exaggeration to say that HASC’s A Time for Music series of concerts changed Jewish music forever. Over the years, they produced novel musical introductions and defining moments, and helped establish the Jewish music world. And now HASC has done us all the favor, rereleasing the first seven concerts in one MP3 set – 115 songs (!) of some of the best music we have witnessed on stage.

More importantly, it’s been remastered. And the sound is very clear. This is important when you consider the beauty of a 60+ piece orchestra, alongside artists such as MBD in his prime, Avraham Fried on his ride to superstardom, and others. And consider the many gorgeous instrumentals by the Neginah Orchestra with the likes of Yaron Gershovsky and Yossi Piamenta. Much of that is thanks to Yisrael Lamm, whose orchestrations are what make the concerts what they were. In fact, I’d venture to say that his best work is featured in these concerts. But the artist whose presence made those HASC concerts so special is Mordechai Ben David. During those years – especially the first three – his vocal ability was at the top of its power, and that regal voice and deep emotion still remains an impossibly high benchmark for all newcomers to the Jewish music world. In addition to all that, Abie Rotenberg’s stirring songs written specially for HASC (Who Am I, Small Piece of Heaven, Candles, Hamalach) are all particularly noteworthy.

The only negative side to the collection is that they repeated songs from one concert to the next – Yidden is sung three times, Someday three, etc. But that’s only a disadvantage if you listen to the entire thing straight – as I just did.

Of all the concerts, the best would have to be no. 5 – MBD with the Regesh Chorus Ensemble, along with the Showcase of the Masters, including spots by the Piamentas, Gershovsky, and trumpeter Yaakov Uriel. While I do not like listening to Yeedle’s Reminiscing Medley or MBD’s History Medley – they’re simply too shticky to enjoy two decades later – the rest of the concert is full of class and style; and for the most part, absolutely heavenly music.

Here are my favorites, album by album:

HASC 1: Tatenyu, Let My People Go, and general MBD/Fried duets

Tatenyu is a truly beautiful song, and I always loved this hartzig version better than the original. (I’m not alone in loving this tune – no less a personage than the Lubavitcher Rebbetzin, Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka Schneerson OBM, deeply loved this song. A close friend of hers once walked into her home while she was lighting Shabbos candles and found her deep in concentration, singing this song softly to herself.) Let My People Go is an all-time classic, and MBD really rips it out. And finally, MBD and Fried singing together has always brought out unique emotional energy from both of them.

HASC 2: 101 Talented Voices, MBD’s English Medley, Ribono Shel Olam and Who Am I

In this concert, they picked up the quality of the arrangements with some real symphonic sound and a massive backup choir, called 101 Talented Voices. This concert’s real highlight is without question MBD’s stunning rendition of Mona’s classic Ribono Shel Olam. MBD’s English Medley is also really beautiful – what with great arrangements and MBD’s voice in tip-top shape. Abie Rotenberg brings the crowd to their feet with his emotional debut of Who Am I. And that’s a song that brings chills every time I hear it.

HASC 3: The Jerusalem Bandstand’s Hora Medley and the Rhapsody in the Shul

While Fried stars in HASC 3, I’m not crazy over most of his medleys. In this case, my ears were tickled by Yisrael Lamm’s big band work on the Hora Medley and Rhapsody in the Shul.

HASC 4: Journeys, MBD’s hartzig rendition of Refaeinu, and Ko Amar

I always loved what the London School of Jewish Song did here, but let’s face it – their medleys all went on for too long. In fact, all the medleys on this concert went on for too long, despite the fact that there are many beautiful moments. Ko Amar, though, is an old classic, and was a real crowd pleaser. In addition, MBD stirs the strings of the soul as he belts out Yerachmiel Begun’s Refaeinu– far and away better than the original. And the too-short appearance by most of the cast of Journeys is truly wonderful – their perfect harmony blends splendidly with the sounds of the full orchestra. What makes this a true highlight is when you compare the arrangements with their original albums. Those early Journeys (and D’veykus) albums are austere, to say the least. So here, they finally get the stunning arrangements that they deserve.

HASC 5: The brilliant instrumental section Showcase of the Masters, MBD’s belting Simcha Leartzecha and with Regesh on Slach Na and Ma Ashiv

The first half of this concert was unbelievable – the phenomenal Showcase of the Masters featuring Yossi and Avi Piamenta (seperately), each with a unique twist on a classical music piece; Yaron Gershovsky creating a gorgeous piano concerto off of Abie Rotenberg’s classic Hamalach; and Yaakov Uriel, a trumpeter whom I know nothing about, blasting out the fun and funky Moosh Suite. But let’s not forget some more MBD all-timer moments – particularly on Shlomo Carlebach’s Simcha Le’artzecha, and with the Regesh Chorus Ensemble on their classic Selach Na, as well as Ma Ashiv. This concert had some serious music going on. Lots of four and five star marks in my iTunes ratings!

HASC 6: MBD and Chaim Banet on Ko Amar and Piamenta’s gorgeous Vaani Tefilati

It seems like #6 was a bit of a let down, but it has its moments as well – specifically, the gorgeous Vaani Tefilati sung soulfully (!) and played stirringly by the brilliant Yossi Piamenta. Who knew Piamenta could let go with such plain emotion on such a simple song, and one that is not a pure guitar song? Credit is certainly due to the stunning accompaniment by the Neginah Orchestra. And MBD’s performance of Ko Amar, with composer Chaim Banet sitting at the piano, is his typical soulful self.

HASC 7: The crooning Mimkomcha, and Statman on the Spanish Rhapsody and in the Wedding Medley

An attempt to go Broadway seemed to flop, but we got some decent music out of it. Specifically, another MBD/Neginah Orchestra number baked to perfection – the oldie Mimkomcha. We also have the appearance of a true master, Andy Statman, on the woefully short Spanish Rhapsody, and his wailing clarinet solo during Miami’s Chelm Wedding Medley.

This collection is simple a must-have for any Jewish music collector. And at $25 for the entire collection (i.e. .22 cents a song!), or even better – $20 for the download, you cannot go wrong on this one. And sign me up for the next such collection, of vols. 8-24!

This review is long overdue. I originally hesitated to write it because I felt that I have not studied Mizrachi music, or Haim Israel’s career, well enough to comment. But listening to the album again and again brought me around to it – something needed to be said about this wonderful album – a solid 15 songs that’ll wake you up every time you hear it.

If you are not aware of him, Haim Israel is one of the kings of Mizrachi music. He has perfect control of his mellifluous voice. He projects his voice well, avoiding the nasal inflection of Sefardic singers that drives most Ashkenazis crazy. He emotes with skill, and while he has quite a range, does not overdo it on the high end. I found myself enjoying him more and more as I listened. The arrangements are kept pretty simple and within the genre, but with lots of class. Many of the lyrics are fairly typical. There isn’t that much depth or originality to most of the ideas, but the musical experience forgives him for that one flaw. Here’s the tracklist:

Chomot Shel Tikvah: A five star entry to the album. This song stands out as the best of the bunch – the gorgeous, plaintive, airy vocals blends perfectly with the guitar-based arrangements. In addition, the lyrics stand out as the best on the album. I love how he belts out the “chipasti” each time, as well as the “Gam ki eilech” at 2:41 – he’s a real pro. Great song. *****

Derech Chadasha: Here’s a Mizrachi disco piece. Just the kind of thing that reminds you of Egged bus drivers. The tune is basic, but like everything of this genre, you get into it quickly. So simple it may be, but enjoyable it is in any case. The backup vocals are just the thing to pick it up from being average to nice. This is what a talented producer can do for you. ***.5

Halaila: Another typical Mizrachi toe-tapper. This one just doesn’t have anything unique enough to lift it above the average, so if you like Mizrachi, great; if not, meh. ***

Ahavat Hashem: A snazzy beat and crisp rhymes is what makes this a standout song. It starts with some electronica before moving into the Mizrachi beats and vocals. I only wish the instrumental bridge at 2:22 moved outwards a little more. ****

Echsof: Haim Israel sings this ballad well, in spite of the weak tune. Going into the second stanza, you expect this song to build itself up further, but it never really does. One of the weaker numbers on the album. ***

Naala Naala: Why in Heaven’s name do we have a Sefardi singing in Yiddish?! Stick to Hebrew, Ladino and Arabic, guys! First Meydad Tasa, and now Haim Israel. The only savior here is the strong beat of this disco mover – while Haim Israel again blows out the speakers with some nice vocal movement. I do like the classic Shabchi tossed in, though – I only wish they sang it all the way through. **.5

Amen: This track is a hot piece – expect to move onto the dance floor when you hear this one. The disco/Mizrachi style is well pieced together – and this coming from a guy who doesn’t like “plastic” music. ****

Haolam Hazeh: After that track, we need a cool-down song, so here it is. Pretty strings and bass in the opening. But again, as with Echsof, the song needed a bit more to the composition – while the arrangements are pretty as a button. Haim Israel really knows what he’s doing though – the sweet vocals plus those smooth arrangements all the way through take a weak song and really give it what to listen to. Chaval that they didn’t give more oomph to the actual composition, though. ***

Shir L’Ima: Okay now, it seems that this is a pattern for Jewish singers – a song for your Mom or Dad! Count ‘em: Dedi (x2 – Ima and Tatti); Fried’s Father Don’t Cry; Meydad Tasa’s Ima (in English?! Does his mother even speak English?!); MBD’s Memories (okay, maybe that’s cheating – but as far as I know, it was written for his mother); Isaac Bitton/Raaya Mehemna’s Listen Mother… Did I miss any? Should we count My Zeidy, Krenitz, Brooklyn and Shabbos Now? In any case, here’s another Mizrachi mover; lots to listen to with a nice arrangement and good backup vocals. Nothing terribly unique, but just good stuff. ***.5

Bakapayim: This song is too similar to some of the other numbers on the album. Strong Mizrachi beat along with lots of classic Sefardi flavor, though, makes it another good piece. If it were up to me, I would have tossed in some flute to the arrangements – that may have helped it out with something a bit different than all the others. It’s still fun to listen to – especially on those long drives when you need to stay awake. ***

Yeled Sheli: This tune’s more Israeli pop than anything else. It doesn’t really do anything for me. **

Tefilat Hayeladim: But it’s followed by two gorgeous pieces. This track is a slow Mizrachi number, with the bouzouki-styled guitar leading the arrangements. With good lyrics, Haim has lots to work with, and he does so properly, singing personally and from deep within. ****

Ma Nevakesh: This tune, however, takes the cake, with excellent production just most of the way through. It starts off slow and calm, and Haim Israel’s voice gives a stellar performance at the bottom of his range. At 1:30, though, it moves into disco, with some great background vocals. The tune + lyrics are a great match. I do not know why they tossed in the brash Mexican-type brass at 2:39; I’d have done without that. *****

Hasimcha: Here’s one more funky Mizrachi wedding piece. Toss this one three stars, as it’s more stuff that’s similar to the earlier songs. ***

Eshet Chayil: After a song to his mom and his kids, here’s a tune (presumably) for his wife. After an intro that is basically a Mizrachi version of a Carlebach tune, which appears throughout, he breaks into the tune – which is a fairly simple piece. A bit surprising for the last track on the album. **.5

Tachlis: This is a case where more is less, and less would have been more. In other words, if they would have kept to 10-12 songs and really focused on getting the best out of those songs, the totality of the album would be even better. Even with that critique, this is an excellent album – if you like stuff with good beats and lots of movement, get it.

You can purchase the CD or Download here.

About fifteen years ago, I used to wonder why there were so few albums of Lubavitcher niggunim. I don’t wonder about that any more, because there are now dozens of collections of Chabad niggunim of varying styles and genres. Yet, I still eagerly pick up virtually any such album, primarily because of my love of Lubavitcher niggunim. I’m always eager to hear what an artist can do with an old favorite, or to hear and learn a niggun I never knew. I am critical of albums that only do rehashes of old favorites (for example, I have 8 versions of Keili Ata in my iTunes), and for the most part, this album succeeds in putting out “new” material.

Moshe Laufer is an old hand at arranging Lubavitcher niggunim – it was he who put together the classic album (ca. 1985) “Music of the Lubavitcher Chassidim”, and he also arranged Avraham Fried’s Hupp Cossack and The Baal Shem Tov’s Song. All three of those albums had great impact, by bringing Lubavitcher Niggunim to ears that otherwise may never have heard them. Laufer’s most recent such production, Chabad with Moshe Laufer, follows very similar musical lines to his previous offerings.

This time, however, unlike Music of Lubavitcher Chassidim – which was basically instrumental, this album has guest vocalists Shlomo Simcha, Mendy Jerufi, Menachem Levy, and 90’s child soloist Amit Shmulik Listvandt’s little brother, Shmulik. From a production perspective, it is very well done. The men’s and boys’ choirs both sparkle, and the mixing is superb. While for the most part, they keep to the origin of the nigunim, I will note wherever they strayed from the nusach that I know. On to the album:

1. Eimosai (Shlomo Simcha): A niggun stolen from the Yerushalmim, inlaid with lyrics from a letter of the Baal Shem Tov to his brother-in-law, R’ Gershon Kitover. For some reason, they repeat the stanza of “Mosai ko-osi mar” four times. When singing the nigun, Chassidim only repeat it twice. Shlomo Simcha sings with gusto, and it seems that the vocal power that had been somewhat lacking on Aish II is back. In the arrangements, the flip from simcha to hora at 2:40 is a bit awkward, especially considering the fact that it only lasts a few seconds. Despite that, it’s a good beginning.

Lubavitcher Chassidim talk about getting the message of Chassidus out the furthest reaches of the world in order to fulfill this “prophecy”. I got a taste of that at a Lakers game about four or five years ago, when during a time out, the PA system started blaring Matisyahu’s King Without a Crown. 20,000 people at a pro basketball game listening (and some singing along) to “We want Moshiach now/And it’s time to start revealin’…” The fact of the matter is, though, it’s about time that Moshiach fulfills that promise!

2. Lechatchila Ariber (Shmulik Listvandt): The arrangement for this unbelievable nigun sounds like it came directly off of Fried’s The Baal Shem Tov Song. However, the nigun is played too quickly, and the second stanza is repeated, when it should be only sung once. Shmulik Listvandt has a very good voice for a child, but I take two issues with his style: Basically, he focuses too much on power, and too little on natural emotion. On this nigun, however, he does a very good job of keeping everything under control.

The name of the song comes from R’ Shmuel of Lubavitch’s favorite saying: “The world says, if you can’t go under, go over. I say, from the outset, go over!” People usually mistake this to mean that when you come across an obstacle, deal with it by refusing to acknowledge that it is an obstacle. I remember a memorable farbrengen when my Rosh Yeshiva explained that in fact, the focus should be “from the outset” – in other words, when you begin something for Hashem or for Torah, obstacles simply do not exist. A space shuttle doesn’t worry about potholes on the highway!

As for the best child soloists in Jewish music? I’d go with Zohar and Meydad Tasa.

3. Horah Medley: This is a fun medley, and will certainly get lots of play on my iPod. The sound is fresh and funky, but generally stays true to the nigunim.
Ana Avda (Shlomo Simcha): I was waiting for someone to record this nigun! This fun, joyful nigun is a delight to sing, and truly expresses the Chassidic joy in being a servant of G-d. While I’m ok with what they did, some artist will eventually do more with it, especially considering the fact that the song is usually sung slowly picking up speed, going faster and faster in dizzying repetition, rather than fast and then having a semi-cantoral intermission. It works fine, though. I really like the choral work on the song.

Ochein Ato (Shmulik Listvandt): Another nigun full of geshmak – expressing joy in G-d’s infinitude. Unfortunately, Listvandt’s vocal inflections are all repetitious, which makes it sound robotic rather than heartfelt.

Mipi Keil (Shlomo Simcha): This is cheating! This is a Sefardic zemer that he Rebbe loved, but I don’t think it really belonged on this collection. Shlomo Simcha sings it in double time, but with a decent false Sefardic style. I’d expect some clapping along, and more “Hey!” shouts, because that’s what it brings out when we sing it on Simchas Torah in my shteeble. In any case, it’s another great song on a great medley.

4. Ashreinu Medley (Menachem Levy): Who is this guy? I think he has ability – he emotes the nigun properly, and he’s got good color to his voice. The keep-it-simple method works perfectly with this number, while the false ending gives it a bit to spice it up. However, I wish they would have focused on tune #1, which has never been adapted with a modern interpretation. Tunes #2 and #3 have had plenty of playing time. Besides, there’s an element of depth that the first tune gives that the others don’t – it seems to express the idea that one needs to work to internalize the beauty of our fortune. It’s a good late-night nigun.

This concept is particularly stressed in Chabad philosophy, to the extent that there are four niggunim with these words. Here are three of them.
Ashreinu 1: This mellifluous niggun is performed nicely by Levy and the boys. Nice and smooth, and well done. One small correction – when singing this niggun, the pace changes, steadily getting faster and more upbeat.
Ashreinu 2: This is an upbeat tune, often sung with alternative lyrics – Hallelu es Hashem kol goyim, during Hallel.
Ashreinu 3: Other words are occasionally tossed in to this well-known classic in honor of the Alter Rebbe’s liberation from Czarist prison on the 19th of Kislev.

Chelek, Goral and Nachala – portion, lot and inheritance. Note the difference between them – “portion” refers to what you get in accordance with your deeds; “lot” refers to what you get according to your mazel; and “inheritance” is what you have by virtue of simply being a Jew. All are worthy of thanks!

5. Shabbos and Yom Tov Waltz (Shlomo Simcha): A beautiful nigun, again, with classic arrangements. This little-known tune should become a regular at many Shabbos tables. Shlomo Simcha does a perfect job with it.

6. Vayiten Befi (Mendy Jerufi): This nigun was composed for the fortieth anniversary of the Rebbe’s leadership. The pop-style arrangement is a bit too heavy for me, but I think Jerufi performs well. It fits his style.

7. Podoh Besholom (Shmulik Listvandt): Another gorgeous nigun that was waiting for its day in the sun. This one is extremely well known among Chassidim, as it is sung on the days of the release from prison of the Alter Rebbe – Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (19-20 Kislev), the Mitteler Rebbe – Rabbi Dovber of Lubavitch (10 Kislev), and the previous Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson (12-13 Tamuz). Shmulik Listvandt sings sweetly most of the way through, but he shrieks on the high part at the end. They should have released him from duty at that point. The ending, besides for being weak, was completely expected – I’d have voted for a retake.

8. Rikud Medley (Menachem Levy): A mechaye! A wonderful medley, beautifully arranged, beautifully sung, and well pieced together.

Uvyom Simchaschem: While it is sung here without lyrics, this great number is often sung to the words from Torah describing the blowing of trumpets during the olah sacrifices. Alternatively, it can be tossed in during Sim Sholom – as we do in my shteeble, after Birchas Kohanim. It’s a nigun that cries out Simchas Yom Tov!

Nigun Simcha: another easily learned, bright and lively nigun. This is the kind of nigun that you can carry with you – and it will carry you an entire day. And in this case, the pace changes and beat changes add fun and fit the totality of the medley very well.

Easily my favorite pick of the album.

9. Tiku (Shlomo Simcha): This slow and introspective nigun had always touched me. Shlomo Simcha does a nice job on it here. And again, the choir does a stellar job backing him up.

A different girsa of a similar tune uses these Ukrainian lyrics:

Nashi klamki na ulitza biz klamka
Mozhne tarkovati

Hey, shot vas?
Tiku bachodesh, bachodesh hashvi’I, shuva yisrael
Nash tavlyar

Roughly translated, this song says, “Our store is open to the street, without a lock, and one may do business.” “Hey, what do you have?” “I have the Chassidic discourses that begin with these words! This is our merchandise!”The message is that during Tishrei, we have the ability to “buy” and “sell”- gaining spiritual “merchandise” for the rest of the year, represented by the verses that many of the Chassidic discourses of that time of year begin with.

10. Shluchim Medley: For the finale, I expected more. Most of these nigunim are old hat, some of them done by Laufer himself.

Rosh Chodesh Kislev Nigun: This famous nigun, composed in honor of the Rebbe’s miraculous recovery from a heart attack in 1977, is sung by Jerufi and Listvandt. While Jerufi does a fine job, Listvandt is straining. However, Laufer already developed this nigun, for his album “Music of Lubavitcher Chassidim” – it did not need to be produced again. However, the choir does a noteworthy job with it.

Vaharikosi: You may know this from Piamenta’s 1990, Fried’s Around the Year 3, and others. The slapping bass line sounded like it was lifted from 1990.

Vechol Karnei: Another well-known nigun, but it’s only given one.

V’ato Omarto: Ah! A nigun that’s a fresh product. And as expected, Jerufi and Levy do a great job.

Im Esak: This is one of those nigunim that can be either fast or slow. In this case, I like the slow version better.

Utzu Eitza: A fitting finale for the album, with the lyrics lifted from the end of Shacharis. However, they don’t sing all the way through the song! This issue is compounded by the fact that we’re missing the better half of the nigun. Oh well.

Bikitzur: This is a good album, if you like standard Jewish music. My only real gripe is that it was not billed as such – aderaba; in press releases, it is billed with great superlatives, as surpassing anything that had come until now, and being absolutely unique. Not only is it not unique, it is very similar to Laufer’s earlier work with Lubavitcher nigunim. Not that there is anything wrong with that, because it is good work, but don’t expect anything new. Simply put, it’s a good album to learn some great nigunim from in a pleasurable way. I think the vocalists do a very good job with their tasks, and despite all my critiques, I think the album holds up very well.

There once was a day when the music was innocent… Simple… Maybe even pure… Ever thought something like that? If nostalgia is your thing, you’ve got something coming your way.

The Diaspora Yeshiva Band was one of the most influential bands in Jewish music, as we have noted before. They were a true original in the Jewish music scene. They had a sound that was all their own, and many of their songs are still sung and played today. Diaspora’s concerts were legendary in their time. As someone who grew up on Diaspora music, I always wished for a time machine to go back and experience them as they were then.

Wish granted. Diaspora Live is a real time machine. The concert, held in 1982 on the roof of King David’s tomb, was attended by at most 150 people. The lighting, sound equipment and setup look ancient, if not down-right garage band. Yet there is a sincerity that is readily apparent that makes the DVD a delight, and not just a historical relic. This sincerity is readily apparent from the interviews with the band members sprinkled throughout the video.

After watching the DVD a few times, I realized that I can’t critique it the way I usually do – after all, it’s 30 years old, and what’s the point in critiquing something that happened that long ago?! Seriously speaking, though, the DVD has some great moments. While the band starts off a bit stiff, they warm up after about three songs, and in towards the second half, they really get into it. The tracklist is good – all the old Diaspora faves are there: Pitchu Li, Tzadik, Hafachta, The Kotel Song, Malchutcha, and others. There are even two songs that don’t appear on any album – S’iz Gut Tzu Zain a Yid, and Take Me Back to Jerusalem. The latter is particularly fun for those of us who like bluegrass – particularly with the mention of “Califor – ny – ee.” That deserves a “yeehaa” right there.

In terms of musicianship, the best solos go to Avraham Rosenblum and Ruby Harris – specifically on Hafachta and the Kotel Song, which are in any case Diaspora’s best English songs. While you can get a better feel for their skills on their recorded albums, this concert presents some sweet bluesy stuff – particularly in their representation of Lo Yareiu (from Land of Our Fathers). There’s a song that should get a modern update.

The footage is good, and the color and sound quality are surprisingly good for something so old. There are certainly a few points that remind you that you’re watching footage from the early eighties – and no, I’m not referring to the afros, tight jeans and garish sweaters in the audience. Overall, though, it is a very good reproduction. While the Carnegie Hall concert is better in terms of overall professional sound, this is a good flashback. Makes me all warm and fuzzy. Or something like that. Swell job, fellas.