Making Aliyah: Life as a Jewsician

Some folks make aliyah for religious reasons, others for nationalist reasons. And then there are songwriters like me who come to Israel for no apparent reason, and decide to stay, until they're asked to leave.

Being the wandering Jewsician that I am, I've recorded in a number of major studios in Toronto, Montreal and New York. But there's no place like Tel Aviv for making music as I, an immigrant from Canada, was aboot to find oot. (So like that's how they speak in the Old Country, eh?)

Rock It Science

Shocking as it may be, Israeli recording studios are often not only soundproof, but missile proof as well. Beat that, L.A. Indeed it's not uncommon to discover that the studio you’re recording in was originally built as a bomb shelter. Imagine that, here I am producing a CD in a place designed to prevent bombs from coming in, but which now serves as a launch pad for countless bombs going out.

When I first met Bil the recording engineer at Bardo Studios, I found it peculiar to meet an Israeli named Bill. It was only later, when I overheard someone address him as William (WILLIAM?!), that I had to inquire. Smiling, he explained that Bil represents the initials (bet, yud, lamed) of his three Hebrew names. "Ahhh, BIL. I get it."

Just for the record, as they say in the music biz, Israelis typically pronounce my name Steve as Stiv. But naturally, like suffocating on a crowded Tel Aviv bus on a sweltering afternoon sandwiched between three ultra-fed orthodox men gift wrapped in umpteen layers of black God knows what - with hats to boot - ya get used to it.

Introducing The Israeli Feel Harmonic Orchestra

What's astonishing is how uniquely versatile many Israeli musicians are. Miraculously I managed to surround myself with some of the Holy Land's finest artists, both established and up and coming. Unlike most countries where a rock guitarist, for example, can earn a living playing nothing but rock, or a jazz player can devote all of their time to jazz, because Israel is so small, the session players here are remarkably proficient at playing everything from pop and theatre to klezmer and classical.

Take Israel's guitar hero, Avi Singolda, for instance. Just how extraordinary is he? Well, if you've ever seen Woody Allen's flick "Sweet and Lowdown" you'll recall how every time somebody mentioned the name of the world's No.1 guitarist at the time, Django Reinhardt, the character Emmet Ray played by Sean Penn (miserable No.2) broke into a jealous cold sweat, mustering any criticism he could about Reinhardt prior to falling ill and fainting. Dropping Singolda's name among less successful local guitarists has actually become a sick hobby of mine, when I'm not asking strangers for directions to the First Temple.

The Making of Shtikipedia

So there we were in Bardo Studios for the first recording session, where, in Hebrew, digital is pronounced diggital, and gigabytes, jigabytes. Sitting there like Bubble Boy alone in my glassed-in isolated sound booth while the natives glanced at me like I was an immigrant under quarantine, through my headphones I could hear the engineer and other musicians begin talking with one another in the lingo of the land. "Cool!" I thought, "A recording session in Hebrew. This is soooo Biblical!"

During some sessions the studio staff appeared to be more excited than usual. Later I'd be informed that some famous Israeli musician was in either studio A or B. Being a newcomer, I'd never heard of these celebrities before and naturally didn't share the same enthusiasm. That's not entirely true. I heard one female vocalist recording in another room and was not only impressed with her voice but she looked like a fabulous singer too (whatever that means). Luckily, before I could totally embarrass myself and tell her I believe she has a promising career, Bil clued me in that she's already a famous star.

What I've also discovered is that every Israeli thinks they're a celebrity. They're just not famous, that's all.

When I asked Ori Weinstock, the piano player on the disc, how old he was when it became clear he was extraordinarily gifted, he replied, "When I was eight years old I was already playing with guys twice my age.”"Like Avi, during his compulsory service Ori also served in the Israeli army's Entertainment Unit, a breeding ground for many successful Israeli artists.

And then there was Lee Triffon, a fabulously versatile singer who showed up to one late-night session before heading off to a Purim costume party afterwards. Lee strutted into the studio dressed to the hilt as a Bond (James Bond) girl, with the look and a license to kill. Call me a new immigrant, but until that Erev Purim I had no idea the Bond flicks dated all the way back to the 6th Century BCE.

Armagettin Cut Off

And finally there was the one-armed violin player. Actually, she didn't have one arm, she had two, perhaps even three. At least she must have when I first phoned to introduce myself and asked if she'd be interested in recording?

Unfortunately I happened to call Meital while she was driving. Suddenly she began yelling in Hebrew to what sounded like another driver. Seconds later she returned to our conversation half hysterical and boasting how she managed to pass a cigarette over to some guy in another car while driving and talking to me on the phone. I'll bet dollars to donuts, I mean shekels to sufganiot, she also had half a lunch on her lap. Heavy Meital, unfortunately, didn't make the cut.

My point is this: If you thought Israel is all about religion, hi tech and pretty girls, think again: The Jewish State is brimming with fabulous artists!

And pretty girls.

Steve Daitch is a Tel Aviv-based singer/songwriter. You can hear his new disc SHTIKIPEDIA and other treats at www.stevedaitch.com where there’s never a cover charge. And of course Facebook.