The New Black Music – A Look into the Jewish Music

New York’s Madison Square Garden is used to hosting the home games of the New York Knicks and concerts by performers like Paul McCartney and Bryan Adams. But on a cool night in early March, the hall was filled with thousands of young skullcap-wearing men and ultra-Orthodox women in wigs, who listened and cheered to the strains of Hasidic music.

Starring at the event were singers Mordechai Ben David, Lipa Schmeltzer and Dedi Graucher. The three sang their top hits, based on words from Jewish sources. A similar event was supposed to be held last year before Purim, but a delegation of Israeli Haredi activists turned to the major ultra-Orthodox rabbis and even sent representatives to the homes of rabbis in the United States, to convince them to issue a ban on the performance; the efforts were successful.

“The issue of performances in the ultra-Orthodox sector involves a major war,” says Yishai Lapidot, a singer, composer and the founder of the Oif Simches band. “At present the singers have the upper hand, following the last huge performance in the U.S. It was a great success. Major performances are scheduled for the summer, too, such as the one by Chabad, scheduled to be held in Hayarkon Park and featuring the top performers of Hasidic songs. But there have been cases when major performances were canceled as a result of pressure by activists who are not happy with large concerts.”

The rabbis who signed the letter forbidding “evenings of song” were also referring to those performances where a strict separation between men and women is enforced through partitions. Today, the rabbis even forbid performances meant for men only. Their main argument is that such shows have become venues for wild partying and that young audiences are showing signs of idolizing singers who dance around on the stage rather than the great Torah scholars.

The people in the music industry complain that it’s the ultra-Orthodox activists who “sell the rabbis tall tales,” as one music producer puts it. “They tell them that the fans scream and that men and women mingle, but that’s not true at all,” he says.

A Haredi Michael Jackson

The ban on performances of Haredi singers has dramatic economic consequences. Although Israel’s music industry has to contend with many difficulties – including the plague of Internet downloads and home-burnt discs – Hasidic singers are now unable to make a living from performances. Instead, they are forced to spend night after night performing at ultra-Orthodox weddings, which usually include a live band with a singer rather than a DJ. Another way of making a living is to depend on the sector’s wealthy people, who host prestigious private events.

“It may be possible to make a living from music, but you cannot become a millionaire,” says Lapidot. “There are several artists who are on apar with the great secular singers, on the same level as, say, Shlomo Artzi – such as Mordechai Ben David, Avraham Fried and Yaakov Shwekey. They earn large sums, but most singers survive by moonlighting at family and corporate events.”

“The vast majority of singers who bring out discs are unable to return the investment,” says Yuval Stoppel, a musical adapter and a partner in the Bama Kehalacha production company, which represents Fried, one of the greats of Hasidic song. Stoppel says the low level of sales is also a result of the popularity of Internet downloads. “The Internet has brought an end to the industry. The economic crisis has exacerbated the situation, and people who had money until now are reconsidering their priorities.”

Until a few decades ago, Hasidic music consisted only of passages of cantorial music by the greatest cantors, which included mainly prayers recited in the synagogues. Music based on the Jewish sources has long been considered a way to rise to high spiritual levels, as in the singing of the Levites in the Temple. However, over the years, Hasidic music has become a real industry, with rhythmic hits, talents, celebrities and huge performances.

The late Shlomo Carlebach used to combine passages of prayer with cantorial singing and composed thousands of songs that are still sung in ultra-Orthodox homes. In the 1960s, the giant of Hasidic song – Mordechai Ben David (who was born Mordechai Werdyger) – adopted the world’s prevalent musical styles, such as classical rock and pop, and in effect invented the new Haredi music. Ben David’s songs also penetrated the Israeli consciousness, such as the hit “Messiah” and the song that became the hymn of the Beitar Jerusalem soccer team, “Anachnu Ma’aminim, Bnei Ma’aminim” (We are believers, the children of believers). Incidentally, Ben David has a direct connection to Israel’s capital market – he is the son-in-law of the controlling shareholder in the Arazim real estate firm, Meir Gurvitz.

In the 1980s a young Chabad Hasid named Avraham Friedman burst onto the Hasidic music scene; some have compared his voice to that of Michael Jackson. Calling himself “Fried,” he and Ben David have for decades been considered the two greatest Hasidic singers. Starring alongside them are several younger singers, such as Lapidot, who in the past participated in the pre-Eurovision song contest with the Oif Simches band; Yaakov Shwekey, a yeshiva student who spends most of his day studying the Torah, who recorded the song “Rahem,” a radio favorite; and Lipa Schmeltzer, who walks the fine line between being a wild Haredi standup comedian and a soul singer.

Marketing abroad

In recent years a genre of alternative Hasidic music has developed alongside mainstream ultra-Orthodox music. One of its characteristics is that the lyrics are written by professional songwriters rather than taken from the Jewish sources. But of course the messages are always related to faith and religion. Outstanding singers in this field are Shuli Rand, Adi Ran and Yonatan Razel. Another is singer Ovadia Hamama, who last year sang the song “Ana Bekoah,” which received a lot of play time on local radio stations.

The Oif Simches band, founded by Lapidot, was the first to use wild trance rhythms in the late 1990s, and in doing so, incurred harsh criticism from both rabbis and educators. Lapidot also founded another band that greatly impacted the ultra-Orthodox sector – the Kinderlach. Its members are children aged 10-14 who sing Hasidic songs; the choreography and body movements they use during their performances would not shame Madonna or Britney Spears. The Kinderlach managed to captivate a large modern ultra-Orthodox audience, but the more conservative public condemns them scornfully.

Producers in the field claim that recent years have seen an inflation in the number of recordings issued annually. “In the past there would be 40-50 discs a year, whereas now the industry issues over 200,” says Stoppel. “Among them, only five or six singers manage to return the investment and make some money.”

How can it be that an industry is losing money and yet issuing so many discs?

Stoppel: “A new recording promotes and publicizes the singer, allowing him to earn more from performances at weddings. Our leading artists know that the market is also located abroad, in the United States and Europe. In the past the Israeli market was stronger, and now the market abroad is twice the size of the local one.”

Almost anyone can now record an entire album at home, and at low cost. “The cost of a minimal production can amount to $10,000,” says Stoppel. “But the production of a high-quality disc, of the kind issued by the leading singers, costs about $50,000.”

While in the past a recording of a famous Hasidic singer would sell some 30,000 copies, today “no singer will surpass 10,000 copies, and even then he can consider himself lucky,” says a source in the field. He says that “downloading to iPods does not exclude the Haredi sector.” According to estimates, the Hasidic recording market has a turnover of about NIS 40 million annually in Israel today.

In order to fight the phenomenon of disc-burning, industry officials have in recent years embarked on a campaign under the slogan “Burned is stolen,” trying to convince their sector not to copy discs, for religious reasons. But Lapidot says the campaign didn’t really have an impact. He says “the field of albums is suffering from serious distress, and that’s a phenomenon that is not unique to Hasidic music.”

“Today there’s no competition in the field of distribution,” says someone active in the industry. “While there were several distributors in the past, today there are only two, Gal Paz and Greentec, and the sums they pay the artists have declined significantly. Once a singer would get $10 for each disc, now he gets $5 at most. In addition, once a singer could sell the master of the disc [the rights to the original recording] for $50,000, whereas today, even $10,000 is an achievement.”

Kosher seal of approval

“There are many radio stations in the general market that pay royalties through ACUM, the Composers, Authors and Publishers Society of Israel,” Stoppel summarizes. “In recent years Radio Kol Hai didn’t pay royalties. Later, the regional radio stations reached agreements with the Second Authority for Television and Radio, and now the singers enjoy some benefits – both from the radio royalties and from the little that is played on the general radio stations.”

In order to cope with declining revenues, producers of Hasidic music have joined business firms and begun producing recordings under commercial sponsorship. Moshe Rosenblum issued the first such recording in 2002, in cooperation with food manufacturer Osem. Over the years several additional recordings have been issued in this manner, such as the Avraham Fried recording sponsored by the Shefa Shuk supermarket chain, or recordings of song collections sponsored by large Israeli banks that were distributed with ultra-Orthodox newspapers on the holidays.

About a year ago, Yaakov Shwekey even put on a major performance at the Caesarea amphitheater. The organizers knew that in the wake of the rabbinical prohibitions, there was no chance that the audience would cover the expenses, but the show’s main purpose was to film a DVD that was later sold in record stores and at a subsidized price through the Yesh marketing network. In addition, commercial companies such as Bank Hapoalim provide sponsorship worth tens of thousands of dollars to huge Hasidic music performances.

“That’s a big success, because sales increase when the price is low,” says Stoppel. “The move constituted a solution for the practice of [illegal] burning and Internet downloads.”

However, such cooperation is declining: The Bnei Brak-based Guardians of Sanctity and Education is conducting stubborn battles against singers who don’t obey its instructions, and tries to prevent commercial bodies from cooperating with them. “Many groups that wanted to help and nurture Hasidic music prefer not to get drawn into arguments with the activists, and give up these cooperative ventures,” says Lapidot. “The activists are torpedoing marketing initiatives by cell phone companies and approve only mainstream music. Many artists are harmed by that. The activists dictate to firms precise lists of artists with whom they should cooperate.” He says the rabbis’ decisions even affect the types of ring tones mobile providers offer their users for download.

One of the companies that has reduced its activity in the area of Hasidic music is Cellcom, whose activity in the field of ultra-Orthodox music is conducted under the name Cellcom Volume. In the past the company funded large performances, held in the context of Hakafot Shniyot, a post-Simhat Torah celebration, and sent its customers compilations with songs by the giants of Hasidic music.

But even Cellcom was forced to significantly reduce its activity. The company has a seal of approval from the rabbis’ committee for communication affairs, and sells “kosher” products to the ultra-Orthodox sector that do not include content services or the ability to send text messages. The approval of the rabbis’ committee has forced Cellcom to abide by the committee’s instructions regarding singers it can cooperate with. The committee has also forbidden Cellcom from financing concerts.

“We don’t interfere with business deals of one kind or another or with wars,” says Yoni Sabag, the head of Cellcom’s marketing department. “I can say unequivocally that even in the field of music, which is related to cell phones, we work closely with the rabbis’ committee. We’re very pleased about this cooperation and it works both ways. We listen to them regarding of other activities as well. They express their opinion and we don’t oppose them. We are willing, and what they allow us to do we’ll do. We won’t act against a decision of any committee.”

Hezki Horozovsky, the manager of Cellcom’s special division for the ultra-Orthodox sector, says that last Purim the company operated an open truck that drove through the streets of Haredi towns, with young men dancing on it to lively Hasidic music. In addition, the company gives everyone who buys a kosher device an MP3 player loaded with Hasidic music, and also supports music activities in the community center in Jerusalem’s ultra-Orthodox Ramat Shlomo neighborhood.

In recent years, several Hasidic singers have begun issuing discs adapted to the taste of secular music-lovers, and go on performance tours all over Israel. One of them is actor and singer Shuli Rand, who some years ago became Orthodox, joining the Bratslav Hasidim. His album went “platinum” selling 50,000 copies.

Lapidot released a disc called “Ve’ani Hamangina Shelachem” (And I Am Your Tune), which he says is meant for both the religious and the secular publics.

Was the decision to issue a recording designed for a secular audience and to tour to promote it based on economic considerations?

Lapidot: “I got involved in this activity for artistic reasons. Everyone should know what he is good at, and I cater to a certain niche that is very important and basic. I meet many people who became more observant because of my music. I look at it from an ideological point of view. Of course, in the final analysis it pays better and I’m not sorry about that, but that’s not my intention.”

“We’ve all become somewhat more spiritual,” says Stoppel. “Songs of Haredi artists are increasingly being played on secular radio stations. Recently they have been playing Avraham Fried’s cover of ‘Rak Esa Tefila’ quite often, and it was voted song of the week on Reshet Gimmel. The scale won’t change and we won’t suddenly be hearing the Belz Hasidim band on Galgalatz, but a door has opened to artists who are not from the mainstream.”