Although I’ve never actually heard it, I’ve heard of Christian rock. I’m all for the spirit in song. I was raised on Gospel music. But oddly, there was no religion in my house, no God at all. I had to go find that for myself.
I had to find my Judaism, which I’m still working on. Last year, I got my first menorah. This year, I have a special column for Hanukkah week, Jewish strippers talk about being…Jewish strippers. It’s my way of bringing my two lives together.
Recently, I had to ask my neighbor to turn down her music. I couldn’t listen to any more John Lennon. I felt like a real creep when she started crying because it was the anniversary of his death, didn’t I know? No, I didn’t. But c’mon, I mean it was 29 years ago and this neighbor is barely over 30, so what could she actually remember about John Lennon?
But people who sing hymns and gospel and Christian rock don’t actually remember God. They know God.
This week I got to hear the Christian rock equivalent for my people. Jewish rock, light. A hot rock ‘n roll chick in the requisite skintight black jeans, boots and chunky blond streaks sang songs of love and light, praise to the faith and to God. I didn’t care for her music in particular, but I was truly moved by the sentiment. It reminded me of my favorite Sufi poet, Hafiz, with his love poems to God. People sang along in English and in Hebrew.
When I say people, I mean everyone except me. For one, I don’t know Hebrew, for another, I’m still uncomfortable participating in group spiritual experiences and collective joy. I’m the one at weddings who always had to get a wee bit drunky before she could let loose and dance.
The evening ended with Klezmer. This is the music of my peoples, those itinerant traveling musical Jews in Eastern Europe, it is the happiest music around.
Even if I didn’t care for her music, that rock goddess created something to praise the holy and the beautiful, music to uplift. John Lennon sang about peace and love, Klezmer is totally uplifting and joyous and Hafiz whom I adore is, again, about the best in Man and the world.
I started to think about what I create, in that “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem” way. The bulk of my writing is about the outcasts of society. I tell the truth about a time and place in NY that is lost and the people who inhabited it when it wasn’t. Couldn’t I be spending more of my energy in something uplifting, something that contributes to the greater good? Shouldn’t I? Am I?
I am, it just looks a little different when I do it. I’m not a music maker, I’m a storyteller. I tell stories of the lost and in an effort to keep them from being forgotten. Sometimes, a cool hand on a fevered brow is enough to get you through the night.
And here, my holiday gift to you. A little bit of Jewish joy from the Klezmatics
