black and tan eyes

Friday, August 11, 2006

Matisyahu (with Che Fu) @ The Studio, 27 July 2006


Many would have dismissed Matisyahu – an observant Jewish rapper in full Hasidic apparel – as a novelty act in the “Gregorian Monks sing U2” tradition. Yet rather than put an Orthodox Jewish spin on existing tracks, Matisyahu specialises in original songs that combine elements of Hasidic vocal music, Jewish liturgy and reggae music to create an intriguing fusion. The mix of influences is less incongruous than one would imagine: after all, Jamaican reggae artists have long drawn on the Old Testament (in effect, the Jewish bible) for inspiration and imagery. As far as lyrical themes are concerned Matisyahu is in good company.

Born Matthew Miller in 1979, Matisyahu became an observant Jew after a trip to Israel in his teens, after which he switched to his Hebrew name (Matisyahu is Ashkenazi Hebrew for Matthew), got together with some old mates and adjourned to the recording studio. The band Roots Tonic’s sound borrows from numerous genres, notably reggae, hip-hop and psychedelic rock (apparently, Matisyahu and his bandmates came together through their love of the cult band Phish). It was awful nice that they could make their way down here for a show at the cosy Studio on a cold Thursday night in July.

Kiwi hip-hop star Che Fu, back from supporting “his man” Matisyahu in Australia played a short introductory set including the “classics” Machine Talk, Misty Frequencies and Fade Away, as well as couple of new tracks from his upcoming album (I would have loved to hear Scene 3, Chains or Without A Doubt, but it was nice seeing him all the same).

A short while later, Matisyahu and Roots Tonic – guitarist Aaron Duggan, bassist Josh Werner and drummer Jonah David – appeared on stage and kicked into a set that included their recent single Youth, Jerusalem (a song about the Jewish Diaspora, whose chorus is built around an apt reference to Psalm 137 – of “By the rivers of Babylon” fame), and selection of other tracks from their major label debut Youth as well as earlier releases. We were also treated to some lengthy jams in the psychedelic vein (guitarist Duggan had an array of pedals at his disposal, and got some pretty cool sounds from his guitars), and from the man himself a little human beatboxing (he’s quite a whiz in that department), some shambling about the stage in a combination skank/Hasidic jig and plenty of “Oy-oy-oys” – a traditional Hasidic mantra that Matisyahu seamlessly incorporates into his vocal style. The highlight of the main set was no doubt Matisyahu’s signature tune, King Without A Crown. The audience was waiting for this one, and from the sound of things, they were not disappointed (the guy behind me knew all the words).

Reviewers are often amazed to discover that, for a religious musician, Matisyahu does not come across as preachy. This is largely due, perhaps, to his Jewish faith which forbids proselytising; while he does cover religious themes in his lyrics – sung in an English peppered with Hebrew and Yiddish – they mostly relate to personal experience and his own spiritual awakening. And given the present upheavals in the Middle East, it was not surprising to see him move to the front of the stage near the end of the show to offer a prayer for peace. The encore was capped by the beautiful and uplifting, and autobiographical, Time Of Your Song.

The band members mingled with the audience after the show, but the reportedly shy and soft-spoken frontman failed to show up, to my chagrin. I was, however, one of the few punters rewarded when drummer Jonah David threw a bunch of sticks into the audience (he wrote an unfortunately indecipherable message on mine after I gave it to him to autograph). Despite his not appearing for a photo at the end, I thoroughly enjoyed Matisyahu’s performance and look forward to hearing more from him and Roots Tonic in the coming years. Whether or not he is the future of rock ‘n’ roll remains to be decided; what is for certain is that the man has proven he is no mere gimmick. Shkoyach, Matisyahu!

This review was published, with minor alterations, in Craccum, Issue 16, 2006.