It’s Jewish music, but is it Jewish music?

A while ago I was driving down the Jerusalem highway scanning for radio stations. On one frequency, a very intense dance beat was coming out of the speakers. She was about to turn the dial some more for a Jewish tune when the vocalist started. Clash of shocks, he was a heavily Hasidic singer, complete with Eastern European pronunciation. And what was he singing? “Kumee oy’ree ki va oy-reich…” from Rabbi Shlomo Alkavetz’s classic 16th century Sabbath poem, L’cha Dodi. Before he started giving up on him, I had been expecting something like “Oh honey, the way you move with me…”!

I had to ask the age old question: “Is this good for the Jews?” And I had to give the old answer: “Does hair grow on the palm of your hand?”

Of course it’s not good for the Jews, I thought. Poor unfortunate L’cha Dodi, dragged from the fields of Tsfat on Saturday eve and infected with Saturday night fever! Made with love by a Hassid, no less!

Speaking of Tsfat, I remember wandering through his Klezmer festival once and hearing a contemporary version of Psalm 126. It had a funk beat to it and the words didn’t quite fit. The singer had to split the words in two, rendering them more or less meaningless. Good for Jews? No.

What bothered me about this supposed Jewish music? To put it briefly, apart from words, it just wasn’t. It was dance, trance, shmantz. It was modern, stimulating, suggestive. If this music was asked where it wanted to sound, whether in the synagogue or in the sinners’ club, the answer was clear. If Jewish music is to be defined as such, it must have authentic Jewish roots. And a lot of contemporary music just doesn’t. Where was the source of this tradition? Nowhere. That’s what bothered me.

But, as Tevye reminds us, there is another hand. After all, she goes to listen to classic Hasidic nigunim (tunes). Then she goes to listen to Russian folk songs. Creepy, right? Weren’t those folk songs the “dance” of their day?

Even stronger, go see the religious children. They love contemporary popular music and all its villains. What these new Jewish groups do is take what’s hot and put Jewish content on it. Isn’t that what the original Hasidic niggunim were about? If we don’t want to lose our young people in the culture war, we have to compete. Didn’t Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch bring the choral works of Lewandowsky and Japhet to the service of the synagogue, even though they were entirely in the style of German composers of the time, such as Schubert and Mendelssohn (needs asterisk because he was halakhically Jewish )? So maybe I should not just calm down, I should applaud this phenomenon.

Expect. We are both right, I think. This is how I reconcile the difference and my fervent appeal to all who create Jewish music. The most important thing is to ask yourself: “To be or not to be?” That is the question.

Each song has a purpose, a message. It can be joy, faith, reflection, determination, anything. The message is in the melody and rhythm, which create the atmosphere. It is in the text, which gives articulation to the message. And it is in the interpretation, which makes the message personal between the interpreter and the listener. If the message is congruent, if the music and the lyrics are a perfect union that inspires the performer, then you have a great piece of music. If the message is mixed, if there is a battle between rhythm and words, then we are in trouble. Which is why that “kumee oy’ree” was absolutely horrible. It was a mixed message of licentious sacred music with texts.

We love putting verses from the liturgy to music, and that’s wonderful. Composers have a special responsibility to make sure the music gets the message across and colors the words with deeper meanings. Do that, and I’m fascinated, I’m inspired, even if it’s a contemporary style.

But be very, very careful with the verses. We tend to ask, “Do you think Adon Olam is going to this?” when we would do better to ask, “What is this melody saying?” If it says Adon Olam, fine. If not, WRITE YOUR OWN WORDS. To stick with the message idea, if you have a great tune that can say something worthwhile (something human and real, not negative or immodest), say it your way. That satisfies.

The basis of Jewish music has always been to express what is in our hearts as a prayer to God. That expression must be congruent, pure, sincere. There is room in the world of Jewish music for great innovation, if it comes from our hearts, not the charts.