andPOP
It's rather easy to assert that being an atypical artist is nothing more than being a novelty —- a gimmick; something you take note of once, don’t quite understand, so return to the familiar. Taking the unusual and turning it into the standard is complicated, sometimes bordering on impossible.

It wouldn't be a stretch to suggest that when Jimmy Kimmel invited Matisyahu on his program last year, the talk show host sought humour by having this religious Jewish man perform a combination of beat-box and reggae music.

And it wouldn't be a stretch to suggest that Matisyahu expected to be scoffed at.

Matisyahu on a Musical Mission

andPOP

It’s rather easy to assert that being an atypical artist is nothing more than being a novelty —- a gimmick; something you take note of once, don’t quite understand, so return to the familiar. Taking the unusual and turning it into the standard is complicated, sometimes bordering on impossible.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to suggest that when Jimmy Kimmel invited Matisyahu on his program last year, the talk show host sought humour by having this religious Jewish man perform a combination of beat-box and reggae music.

And it wouldn’t be a stretch to suggest that Matisyahu expected to be scoffed at.

But Matisyahu, the 26-year-old New Yorker, was given an opportunity to perform in front of several million people, a chance to show the world that he is not a novelty act, but rather a genuine hip-hop performer.

Within hours, people emailed the Kimmel clip to friends, not to evoke laughter, but rather to shock them, just like they had been astounded when they witnessed the artist, who wears a tall black hat and sports a lengthy unkempt beard, legitimately perform reggae music.

“Sometimes things go beyond our expectations,” says Matisyahu, sitting in the offices of a record label in Toronto. “If people hear something and claim it’s a novelty then that’s because their expectations in life have not been blown away.”

Aaron Bisman, his manager and head of JDub Records, says Matisyahu has two barriers to face: the fact that he is a white man in the hip-hop world, and that he looks different than any other artist in the genre. He recognizes that people will judge Matisyahu before ever hearing a note of his music.

“If people want to make a joke about that, what can I do? My job is to make sure he has the opportunities to get in front of those people and open his mouth,” Bisman says from his New York office. “Because as soon as that happens, the novelty fades pretty quickly.”

And then there’s the group of people who say that as a religious Jew, Matisyahu should not be performing reggae music. Though most rabbis he encounters support what he is doing, he says, some feel he should be performing traditional Jewish music, not this unfamiliar genre, which originated in Jamaica. Along the way, several of his moves have been criticized, but he insists that he has never compromised his religion to further thrust his art.

Defending his chosen craft, Matisyahu cites the Alter Rebbe, the rabbi who started the Chasidic movement, who said music is the pen to the soul.

“What I’m trying to do is show them that you can be pure and incorporate your life and experiences in that thing,” says Matisyahu. “You don’t have to take away from the essence of Judaism or the truth of Judaism and compromise it by taking things that you have been influenced by.”

His influences, shaping his career, date back to when he was 14, attending high school in White Plains, New York, captivated by the Greatful Dead. He was then known as Matthew Miller, and though he understood he was Jewish, he felt no obligation to the religion. At 16, looking for a path in life, he travelled to Colorado, where he realized there is a God.

He discovered his Jewish identity on a trip to Israel. When he retuned to White Plains, he lost interest in school, dropped out, and followed Phish around on the jam band’s tour. After a few months, he returned home broke, so his parents sent him to a wilderness school in Bend, Oregon. There, he attended a weekly open-mic session, where he was able to practice his talents and develop a unique sound that combining beat-boxing and reggae and hip-hop music.

Two years later, at age 19, he returned to New York again. He met a Lubavitch rabbi and soon after adapted to the Lubavitch Hasidic lifestyle. He decided to be known by his Hebrew name, Matisyahu.

Though taking hours every day to study and pray, he never gave up on his dream of becoming a hip-hop performer.

“Before I was religious, I felt that I wanted to be a musician,” Matisyahu says. “I wanted to do that at the highest possible level. Kids see MTV and want to be on MTV and that’s something I always wanted to do and something I felt was possible.”

His video for “King Without a Crown” can now be seen on MTV. Earlier this month, Matisyahu received a nomination in the new artist category at the MTV Woodie Awards, held to honour artists who don’t have widespread commercial success. His latest album, “Live at Stubb’s,” reached number two on Billboard’s reggae chart. “Youth,” his next studio album, is due out January 31 on Epic Records and features production work from Bill Laswell (Herbie Hancock, Carlos Santana).

“I’m not blown away by [seeing the music video on MTV]. It’s always been my plan all along. Maybe it was just a dream but I always thought it was attainable.”

He is unlike any other reggae artist, not just because of his appearance and spirituality, but because some of the customs seem unusual to those unfamiliar with them. In addition to more commonly known Jewish laws — like not being able to perform on Saturday night (the Shabbat) and having to keep strictly kosher — Matisyahu follows other customs that are more controversial. Matisyahu is not allowed to listen to the music of or touch members of the opposite sex.

One music industry member had a hard time with this, Matisyahu recalls. She had just watched him perform and wanted to shake his hand. Unable to do so, she called him a “sexist pig.” They worked together shortly after and she gave him the chance to explain.

Some would see this as a sexist act that has no place in today’s society. Matisyahu says it’s part of the laws he follows and can’t change them.

“There are certain things in Judaism that are untouchable. The things that I believe to be untouchable are the laws,” he explains. “You can argue that the entire Jewish people’s survival and existence is because they stay true to something. They have that rock that kept them going. Even though certain things sometimes seem archaic or seem sexist or seem like they don’t make any sense, I personally don’t feel like I’m hurting anybody by not shaking their hands or not listening to them sing. Maybe a person who doesn’t understand it will get offended, but I don’t think it’s bringing negativity into this world.”

He used to go as far as not wearing glasses on stage, in case there were provocatively dressed females in the audience. While studying in the Yashiva, he was impressed by a rabbi who took off his glasses when he would walk down the street so he could not be affected by the world. Matisyahu says he is now in a different place. “Not that I look at the attractive girls in the audience, but I feel that in order to connect with the audience, I have to see them.”

Matisyahu took a big risk, inviting further criticism by prominent religious Jewish leaders, when he collaborated on a few tracks with Christian rock band P.O.D.

“I talked to a rabbi before I did it and I think that the idea was that I wasn’t going to be on a song that was promoting Jesus or Christianity, but that we’d collaborate about God or a struggle. You could argue that Jewish kids are going to buy the P.O.D. album and get influenced by it. That’s the fine line that I walk sometimes. Hopefully there will be a lot of Christian kids who will get exposed to a Jewish perspective, not that they’ll renounce Christianity.”

That push to educate is especially noticeable in his live shows. The usual response from an artist when asked what they want people to take out of their concerts is for them to enjoy themselves. That is only half of Matisyahu’s goal.

“I hope they take something spiritual away. I hope they had a good time but I hope it helps them in some way beyond just that moment. True enjoyment is when you’re able to grow.”

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