03.31.2005 9:18 PM EST
His religious rap is catching on, and a new live album is around the
corner.
When one thinks of hip-hop hotbeds, West Chester, Pennsylvania, doesn't
spring to mind. And when considering the most gangsta things a true
hip-hop head can do, dedicating one's life to Judaism isn't exactly
high on the list.
But for Matisyahu, well, that's pretty much the way he wants things.
Born Matthew Miller in West Chester on June 30, 1979, the
artist-soon-to-be-known-as-Matisyahu spent his formative years kicking
around the U.S. with his family, listening to hip-hop, making trouble
in Hebrew schools and growing an unfortunate crop of dreadlocks. By the
time he reached high school, he was a full-blown hippie and dropped out
to follow Phish on tour. It was on the road that Miller started to
listen to reggae. Then everything changed.
"I used to listen to Bob Marley and Sizzla and Buju Banton. I used to
go everywhere listening to that music. I'd walk around with headphones
on, skateboard with headphones on. That music made it's mark,"
Matisyahu said. "And then about four years ago, I made a decision to
become religious, because I was always trying to find a path, and I
figured, 'Let me check into my roots,' and I found a way to access a
place that I was trying to get to for a while."
While he was still in high school, Miller had made a trip to Israel.
When he returned, he was a changed man. But it took going on the road
and discovering reggae for everything to come together. Miller decided
to rededicate his life to Judaism and use his hip-hop and reggae roots
to spread his religion's messages of love and acceptance.
That's when Matisyahu was born.
"I wasn't raised religious, this was a journey," he explained. "I want
to spread my message of trying to stay centered in this world, and of
trying to tap into your core and your roots and the Godly spark that
everyone has."
Matisyahu moved to the Jewish section of Crown Heights, Brooklyn, and
started bringing his message to open-mic nights all around New York.
After some initial skepticism from audiences, his reggae-tinged raps
started to win crowds over, and he began to make a name for himself on
the conscious hip-hop circuit. Last year he collected his rhymes and
cut a record called Shake Off the Dust ... Arise. And just last month
his performance at the South by Southwest music conference in Austin,
Texas, was one of the festival's most talked-about events.
On April 19, he'll release Matisyahu Live at Stubb's, and he's
preparing to hit the studio to record a new album (with a "real
big-name producer" whose name he won't reveal) later this year. And
there's still the attention he garners from major labels ... but for
Matisyahu, a big-buck deal is not what it's about. He answers to a
higher power.
"I'm trying to stay pure and holy for God," he said. "I've got a
message that's universal. I'm trying to show that you can be who you
are - and be strong with who you are - and still be unified with
other people. It's something everyone wants to hear."
- James Montgomery
Matthew Shapiro
2005-04-05
Jambands.com
Over the years the jamband scene has become an umbrella to a wide array
of artists and styles, but surely the act eliciting the most curious
disbelief is Matisyahu, often billed as "the Hasidic Reggae Superstar."
Just try mentioning it to an acquaintance and surely you will get a
response such as, "the what?" Further more, after restating it, the
next question will almost undoubtedly be, "is that some sort of joke?
Well, the answer is that Matisyahu is very much for real, and he is
quickly garnering recognition for his unique brand of grooving
spiritual music.
Matisyahu is a serious student of reggae and hip-hop, who also happens
to be a student of the teachings of Hasidic Judaism, and adheres to
their ultra-orthodox lifestyle. His pious way of life in no way
detracts from the fact that he his fronting one of nastiest Reggae
outfits around; in fact it only helps to inspire his message. Actually,
Hasidic (or Jewish) fused reggae is not as far-fetched as it sounds.
There are many parallel themes in both Jewish and Jamaican Rastafarian
teachings including, exile and the desire to return to Zion, slavery,
redemption, and above all praise of a higher power.
Though his message and music are easily identifiable as reggae, the act
is still initially a tough sell. Any all-white reggae band will always
have a tough time gaining credibility, let alone one fronted by a guy
garbed in the attire of an 18th century Polish Jew. Matisyahu is the
first to acknowledge the apparent oddity. "On one hand it works to our
disadvantage because people have all these preconceived notions about
what we do. But, one the other hand," he continues, "it works to our
advantage because we're like a sneak attack on people. They expect one
thing, and leave surprisingly pleased. It's rare that you can genuinely
surprise people."
The band lays down an authentic stripped down dirty reggae-dub sound.
The trio made up of Aaron Dugan on guitar, and the tight rhythm section
of Josh Werner, and Jonah David on bass and drums respectively, boils
the music down to its bare essentials while emitting a surprisingly
dense sound. Matisyahu adds a wide octave voice which he displays in
songs and spiritual chanting, and topping it off is his fierce
beat-boxing ability. As he says, "the music speaks for itself. I think
if people came to the shows and sensed the slightest bit of insincerity
it would not have taken off like it has."
Taken off it has. It is remarkable to attend one of their shows and see
Hasidic Jews of all ages, genuine Rastafarians, frat kids, and regular
music fans of several racial profiles, all getting down side by side.
The band has toured throughout the entire United States generating
positive responses and quite a buzz. This has led to recent appearances
at this year's South by Southwest festival and on both the Jimmy Kimmel
and Carlson Daly shows. Daly himself proclaimed that "there is nothing
like him going on anywhere in the music world today."
Matisyahu's story begins as Matthew Miller, who grew up in White Plains
New York. His family practiced Reconstructionist Judaism (which offers
a self-described progressive approach to Jewish life and faith). He
says through out public school he felt disengaged and like something
was missing. As he explains, "I felt there was a spiritual truth in the
world, but it wasn't being nurtured in me." He found his first
spiritual grounding in the music of Bob Marley. "During lunch, or then
skipping classes I'd just sit in my friend's car and listen to Bob. I
internalized his words." Before long, Miller was a full blown
dreadlocked teenage hippie.
In the eleventh grade Miller spent three months in an American school
in Israel. It was there that for the first time he felt true
spirituality. However, when he returned to the States he once again
found himself lost. "When I came back from Israel I had no way to make
a spiritual connection. I think religion is like building blocks, and I
had nothing to build on." He continues, "Without a Devine sense of
spirituality or connection to God, you're left looking on your own.
You're searching in a world where good and bad are mixed together. You
have to weave through and find what's pure, which is hard when a lot of
times the bad looks like good."
The first time upon his return that Miller felt the same spirituality
found in Israel, was at his first Phish concert in Worchester MA. "When
that band would play music, and you're under the influence, you're
experiencing your emotions and your mind's racing. It's life on a
different level, a truer level. You're maximizing yourself as a human
being. You're tapping into your soul. To me that was truth."
The experience led him to drop out of school and follow Phish around
the country. It did not take him long to realize that it was nearly
impossible to hang on to this newfound spirituality. "You don't have
the strength or capabilities to be what you are at a Phish concert. So,
in a certain sense these experiences were not real because you can't
bring them with you."
His new goal was to figure out how to internalize this feeling of truth
he discovered at Phish shows. He explains, "In Kabala (mystic Jewish
teachings), it talks about the idea of vessels and light. One needs to
build a strong vessel within. The bigger the vessel the more light it
can contain." He continues by explaining how to him this is the real
definition of religion. "To me becoming religious was about building a
vessel in myself. I realize that period when I was following Phish, I
was just following the light, but I had no way to store that light, so
it would disappear, leaving me empty."
Returning home from tour broke and disillusioned, his parents decided
it was time to straighten him out. They sent him to a wilderness school
in Bend Oregon. It was here, where Miller started constructing his
vessel. The school encouraged artistic creativity, giving him the
parameters he needed. It was during this time he started developing his
reggae hip-hop sound. He appeared at a weekly open-mic where he rapped,
sang, and beat-boxed, planting the seeds for what was to come.
After two years, he returned to the east-coast where he attended the
New School. It was there that Matisyahu began to really take shape
musically and spiritually. The first significant step was meeting
Dugan, a guitar student at the New School's Jazz program, the two music
junkies quickly struck up a friendship. However, Miller spent most of
his time holed up in his apartment, "with a P.A. turned all the way up,
just rapping, chanting, beat-boxing and listening to a whole lot of
Sizzla."
It was also in this period that he found his way to the Carlebach Shul
on New York's Upper West Side. The synagogue founded by Shlomo
Carlebach is renowned for its lively song-filled services. It was here
where it began to click and he realized the power of Jewish music and
found grounding in the Jewish teachings. It was apparent to him that he
could combine his two spiritual bases to create what would become his
vessel, and immediately began digging deeper into both. A chance
encounter with a Lubavitch Hasidic rabbi in a park, led to his embrace
of the Lubavitch lifestyle, and his transformation to Matisyahu.
He went back to Israel where he solidified his fusion of spirituality.
Once returning to New York, he booked himself a Hanukah gig and called
Dugan to play with him, even though Dugan had never played reggae
before, although he admits, "I'd heard reggae." Dugan says though
different, "the gig was fun and Matis really wanted to keep doing it.
So, I called Josh who I knew through school and knew was into reggae,
and he called Jonah (also a New School jazz student) and that's how we
got together.
The band began quickly realized they were on to something, and were
developing their own unique brand of reggae created not only by the
Jewish slant but from the way the music was delivered. "Josh and I as a
rhythm section have to be tight, but Aaron (who had no background in
reggae)," David explains, "entered with a totally different mindset,
and he brought that into the reggae. He's honestly doing things on
guitar that I've never heard a guitarist do in reggae. So, as a whole
it comes together as unique."
According to Dugan, "the role of guitar in reggae (in my opinion), is
being part of the machine. But, that doesn't mean I have to just chuck,
I need to throw in notes and melodies to keep it honest. So I try to
make it half my role, and half my spirit. Werner adds "it's obvious we
respect the reggae, and we like to think we were born in Jamaica, but
we're also jazz musicians, rock musicians, avant-garde musicians, and
Matis likes all that as well. So, we (as musicians) are identifiable in
the music."
While reggae is the foundation of the band, during their shows
Matisyahu will sit on the side playing congas as the band stretches
out, and jams moving freely in between genres. They will also improvise
while being led by Matisyahu's beat-boxing. "I love it," says David. "A
lot of what you hear just has to do with our relationship and who we
are and that is represented in the music. Then a lot of it is Josh's
brilliant writing and the way he composes a song."
While Matisyahu writes all the lyrics, he and Werner share the
responsibility of writing the music. He explains that Shake of the
Dust...ARISE, their first album was by and large formulated in the
studio. "We only have like 12 songs. A lot of it we came up with in the
studio before recording. I'd have an idea and bring it to Josh, and
he'd throw out some chords. Or. He'll lay down a bass-line and I'd just
think of something to put over it, whether it be rapping, or just
humming or chanting, or boxing and then I'll come up with lyrics
later."
Taking their show on the road has been a unique journey in itself.
Matisyahu is pleased to see how the music is resonating with people
across all lines, despite the preconceived notions people might have
about him and his music. "Usually it is believed that something is
watered down, either the reggae or the religious element, but this is
really combining the essence of both. So, people relate to the truth of
it. So, so far so good all around. Jews can relate to it and identify
parts of their culture and heritage and see it through the eyes of
modern day Americans.
Matisyahu also thinks there are many elements of the music that
non-Jews can hang their hat on. "For non-Jews, a lot of the messages
are universal, even though they're rooted in Judaism, their messages
anyone can relate to." Continuing he says, "also for non-Jews it's the
first time they can relate to a religious Jew, and for a religious Jew
to reach out and touch them. There are so many misconceived ideas about
Jews and Judaism, whether it is stereotypes, or political ideas and the
problems in Israel, this allows people to see the spiritual part of
Judaism."
To Matisyahu "Judaism is about spirituality. That's the only way things
are going to get solved, the pieces can only come together through God.
I'm just trying to be a bridge and bring people together." Though he is
quick to point out that his mission is not to force Judaism down
anyone's throat or try to convert people. The Jewish faith prohibits
that, so Matisyahu's goal is to help people discover their own
spirituality. "The Rebbe would deliver the same talks time and time
again, just as we're doing basically the same show night in and night
out. For the Rebbe the talks were not about him, they were about the
listeners and what they would pull out of it or how they'd interpret
it. It's the same for me, the joy isn't playing the songs, (we've
played the same dozen songs countless times) for me the joy is seeing
how people react to the music.
Matisyahu's mission is simple he wants people to come to his shows with
an open mind, and he tries to fill both the mind and soul with a
certain Ruach (spirit). "My hope is that you take this music and let it
inspire you and that you can incorporate that inspiration into your
life. I want to help people build their own vessels, and show them it
can be done."
Not only is Matisyahu building vessels around the country, but he is
also building a reputation as one of the must see acts of 2005. He
released his second album Live at Stubbs, in April and is constantly
touring supporting the album. Just do not expect him to catch him on a
Friday night.