RebbeSoul Blog

The making of Aishet Chayil

2012-02-15T02:56:00.000-08:00

The recording of Reb Shlomo Carlebach's "Aishet Chayil", "Woman of Valor" on the RebbeSoul "From Another World" album.

The video was taken at my studio with my iphone. Maybe I should get a camera!

new music, new tour

2012-01-14T11:02:00.000-08:00

Working on tracks with Yemenite singer, Shlomit Levi and planning to tour in Europe and the USA later this year as "Shlomit & The Rebbe." It's Yemenite and world music, a tasty combination and very new.

Here's the first track we worked on, featuring some special guests from Orphaned Land and Gaya in Israel. It's called "Ruchi" in Yemenite which means My Spirit. Click Shlomit's picture below and it will take you to the track.

If clicking on the photo doesn't work, try this link:

http://soundcloud.com/shlomit-levi/spirit-shlomit-the-rebbe

Wanna' invite us to your town or venue? Just contact us here.

There's more information on this unique project my blog and a ReverbNation page for Shlomit & The Rebbe which has more tracks, photos, and an impromptu video, live in the studio.

Moishele's Nigun

2012-01-07T16:19:00.000-08:00

This is the story behind "Moishele's Nigun,"the song which first appeared on the album, Fringe Of Blue and most recently on From Another World. It is a true story from Vienna during WW2. Moishele is the affectionate term for the name Moshe.

The video of the story was taken in my studio in Israel on my iPhone.

Click here for the story

Then...
Click here for the song

New Yemenite music with Shlomit Levi

2011-07-02T13:49:00.000-07:00

I'm working with a wonderful, Yemenite singer in Israel, Shlomit Levi, pictured left. These songs are not in Hebrew but in Yemenite, occasionally with some other language thrown in. Yemenite is kind of a dialect of Arabic, spoken by the Jews of Yemen, most of whom are here in Israel now.

The first song "רוחי"pronounced "Ruchi" meaning "my spirit," was written by Aharon Amram, the father of Yemenite music in Israel. Shlomit added some sections to the original. It's usually done to a "Dasa" rhythm which is in 7/8. I added an extra beat to put it into a more symmetrical 4/4 and as the song is very emotional, dealing with lost love and eventually a suicide, I began it with a heartbeat-sounding groove. It's the first thing you hear. The song ends with it, stopping.

Shlomit sang lots of vocals at my studio. She had many ideas and we got them all. At last count, I had something like 25 vocal tracks. I laid down a balalaika part, which functioned as a sort of a drone with a groove and later added some rock guitar, anticipating a big, rock drum performance to build the song.

The excellent drumming you hear is Matan Shmuely, from the Israeli, metal band Orphaned Land, whom Shlomit also sings with. I arrived at the studio with a chart which was more like a rough sketch, really. I gave it to Matan and he went through a take. Shlomit and I suggested a few changes and he walked back in and nailed it on the next take- punches, breaks, groove, and all. Matan is pictured on the left.

Powerful performance, perfectly complemented by the creative, bass playing of Moran Baron whom I recorded later at my own studio. Moran also played bass on my "From Another World" album, including the song, "Adir Hu," which I wrote about in an earlier blog.

The solo in the song features my good friend Gili Liber on ney. Gili has a restaurant in town with his wife Ayelet and I love to go there to sample Ayelet's unique and tasty cooking and hang out with Gili. He has nice touch with ethnic flutes and it seemed to fit the song so we agreed to meet over at his studio where I recorded him. I love the warm sound he gets, very breathy and moody. That's Gili on the right, playing his ney. He's also the founder of the famed, Israeli world music group, Gaya.

Here is a link to the song which is only a few tweaks away from being finished. Go to: http://soundcloud.com/shlomit-levi/spirit-shlomit-the-rebbe

Visit to Amuka and the Making of Kaddish

2011-05-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

Amuka, in northern Israel, is the gravesite of Rabbi Yonathan ben Uziel, one of the greatest students of Rabbi Hillel from 2000 years ago. I was there with three friends. An Ashkenazi, an Ethiopian, and Pincus, dressed in a dusty, black coat and kippah, covered with soot from head to foot and wreaking of pure kindness. He was a total tzaddik, or holy man, reminding me of Eliyahu ha Navi, the angel and prophet, frequently disguised as a beggar.

Except for us, the place was completely deserted. It was dusk, time for arvit or mincha, evening prayers, and my companions complained about being short six men for a minyan. We were only four and ten is the necessary quorum in our tradition. Pincus leapt upon a rock and began, “If you have faith, then we will have our minyan!” he exclaimed. "Emunah!" he cried. I looked up at the road leading to Amuka and saw a desolate site among the trees. There was nothing… nothing, only trees. Where this minyan was going to appear from was certainly a mystery to me. We went inside the small building there in the wilderness, which housed the tomb of the great sage and began our prayers.

Somewhere in the middle of what we were doing, I heard a noise outside and poked my head out the door. I saw a car gradually winding its way down the hill through the trees. When it got to the parking lot, completely empty except for our car of course, the doors opened and one by one, six guys piled out and headed our way. We were four, combined with their six, there was our minyan!

Pincus lost all control. He started jumping up and down and dancing, singing. He was the happiest man on the planet. “See? I told you to have faith!” Moments later, another car appeared with more men. And then another. Lots of minyans. In fact, by the end of all this, three busloads had shown up, full of people visiting Amuka, the women lighting candles, so many that it turned into a bonfire.

The acoustics sounded so good in that little stone building that I whipped out my trusty recorder and got the Ethiopian guy reciting Kaddish. It turned out to be the first of many sound samples I was to use in the track I ultimately called Kaddish. Eventually I was to gather many other samples of this prayer but this was the first and would be followed by Hungarians, Moroccans, Persians, Yemenites, the Sephardim from the Abu Hav synagogue in Tzfat, all recorded over a two-year period. Miraculously, when I assembled the recorded samples I was to use in the song, they were all in the same key, only one of them being off by mere semitones! What are the chances of that?

I spent a month in the studio, putting all the pieces together and adding caxixi (basket shaker), balalaika, beats, and more percussion from Tim Bolling.

Kaddish is on the "Change The World With A Sound" album and is still one of my favorites. Listen to it here.

Recording Adir Hu

2011-03-24T13:05:00.000-07:00

When I got to Israel, I played a lot of weddings as a guitarist/sideman, particularly in Jerusalem. Often the material consisted of Reb Shlomo's songs and that's how I learned many of them. One of the most popular was "Adir Hu." It's from the holiday of "Pesach" or Passover. Oddly enough, it's very un'Shlomo sounding as it has a distinct Sephardi or Mizrachi sound to it. The section that sounds most like Reb Shlomo is where everyone yells, "Kel Bnai!"

I was recording at the studio of Dan Gil, the Gearer Rebbe. Dan is called the Gearer Rebbe because he knows a lot about musical gear and is infatuated with it. He had just acquired a Turkish saz, sometimes called a baglama. I was at the studio for a few days and Dan kept telling me about the saz and how I should play it on the new album. "I don't know how to play saz. I don't even know the tuning," I replied. He persisted and as soon as he handed it to me, I strummed it and knew it would be perfect for something. The Gearer Rebbe is a wise man. I loved the sound of that saz.

"Adir Hu," at least for a westerner, is exotic to begin with so that seemed like the right tune to choose for the saz. I used some of the strings as drones and although I have no idea whether or not that's part of the method of playing, it sounded good. I played a track. I even laid down a 2nd track and both sounded really good together. On the recording you can hear the second saz enter after a verse.

Eventually I went back to Israel and was listening to the tracks. Although they stood well on their own, I wanted to add a few more things. I was just having too much fun with the song and didn't want to stop. I had made a stop in San Francisco on the tour before returning to Israel and went to one of my favorite music stores, Clarion Music. It's a wonderful place in San Francisco's Chinatown to explore non-Western instruments. I first discovered it in the mid-90s, with our percussionist, Cassio Duarte. We were in San Francisco to play Great American Music Hall and Cassio heard about this store so we went there and emerged hours later. Both of us were like kids in a candy store. I got a dolak from Pakistan and used it shortly afterward on "A Narrow Bridge" or "Kol Ha Olam Kulo" in Hebrew, on my Fringe of Blue album.

On this visit, in 2009, I was in Clarion Music with my brother, Scott and his son Steven being tourists. I left with a jaw harp and some hand percussion from Viet Nam and China. When it came time to record the additional material for the song. I used my mobile recording studio in Israel and pulled out these new toys of mine and rolled a few tracks. It certainly had an unusual sound and to smooth things out I added some finger cymbals which kind of fused the east with the middle east. The only thing missing was a deep sounding drum for the bottom end. All the drums I had to fit the bill were in the United States and I wasn't there. It was so hot in Israel, I was drinking bottles of water constantly and just polished one off. I gave it a bang and it sounded pretty good so I played a "four on the floor" pattern on the water bottle and that's what you hear on the track. It comes in toward the end and sounds like a big drum.

I had so much fun with "Adir Hu," I decided to do another take on it with a different feel. I jumped on the computer and came up with a drum loop, some synth sounds and created a nice bed for the the melody. I took out my nylon string and it sounded divine, so soothing. I spotted my balalaika, sitting in the corner so I picked it up and played a track which I also liked. I used both, the balalaika at the beginning and the nylon string afterwards. I added distortion to the balalaika and gradually brought it in, creating a morphing effect as the song progressed.

I wanted an intense, groove-oriented bass part so I called up one of my very favorite bassists, Moran Baron from a kibbutz just minutes away from me and he came over slammed a killer bass part. Moran has lots of ideas and usually lays them all down which requires editing afterwards. It's difficult to discard anything he plays because it's always so musical. In fact, I loved what he played so much that I lengthened the song by a few minutes with a long ride-out at the end to accommodate his many ideas. The long ride-out also allowed me to indulge myself at the end, playing one of my new toys, the jaw harp I got in San Francisco.

I called this track, "Adir Hu Revisited" and it's at the end of the album, just before the radio mixes. I liked the way it finished off the album, providing a long, late-night, college dorm, hang out kind of mood.

Skverer Hasidim at the Wall in Jerusalem

2011-02-05T17:13:00.000-08:00

I played in Jerusalem Wednesday night at my CD release party. Wonderful night and I'll write about that another time. What I want to relate now is what happened afterward in the "wee hours of morn!" I went to the Kotel. It must have been 1am or so and I was with a few friends. When we got there, there was a huge group of hasidim and we found out it was the Skverer Rebbe (also Square Rebbe) and his followers. A Twersky, his dynasty began in the 1700s in Chernobyl, as followers of the Baal Shem Tov. At one point their synagogue was located in Skverer in the Ukraine, hence the name of his title, the Skverer Rebbe. Now it's based in New Square in New York and the current Rebbe, whom I saw at the Kotel, has over 20,000 followers.

How they hung on to every word their Rebbe said. There were a few hundred of them, all singing and praying together. I grabbed by cell phone and took this little video.

2011-01-11T13:53:00.000-08:00

I first heard Im Eshkachech in Jerusalem on Tisha B'Av. There were a group of people sitting on the floor singing it slowly, nigun style - with no words. It sounded hauntingly beautiful. Years later, I was at a friend's house for Shabbat and was sitting on the couch, reading something. Suddenly I heard the melody again and saw my friend, sitting at the table at the other end of the room, singing it. Neither of us knew what it was or who wrote it but it's one of those melodies that's hard to forget. I asked around and found out it was Im Eshkachech by Reb Shlomo Carlebach.

Despite that it was usually sung quietly, I pictured it as an anthem, a rock anthem, but still maintaining its devotional quality. A few chord substitutions I took the liberty of making added more passion to the overall feeling of the song and I arranged the structure so it builds from the mellow beginning to the end where it gets intense. I wrote out the charts and went into the studio with Rotem Az-Ogen playing drums and Moran Baron on bass. My amp was in California and I was in IsraeI, so I played the rhythm guitar part through a Fender Deluxe, borrowed from my friend, Joel Abramson. The Deluxe sounded great with a Jenson speaker, vintage style. Just enough grit but not too much to make it sound unnatural.

Using my mobile studio later, I added keyboard and guitars playing melody and the solo as well as the intro which I inserted it at the beginning. Amit Golan mixed it at Super Sonic Studios in Jerusalem, the perfect place for this song which says...

"If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth..." These are the words of Im Eshkachech. They are about our devotion to Jerusalem, our holy city.

Poland - in Lodz

2010-12-12T14:27:00.000-08:00

One of my recent concerts in Poland included Lodz (pronounced "Woodj"). As it was during the holiday of Chanukah, there was a candle lighting ceremony prior to my performance. The Rabbi of Lodz sang the blessings and Ma Oz Tzur. I captured part of it with my camera and wanted to share it with you. Notice the familiar melody but with the probably very unfamiliar Polish pronunciations of the Hebrew words in this classic song.

Here are a few shots of my performance too, taken by a French film student, doing a project in Poland for her school in Belgium.

These were taken while I played one of my favorite Ladino songs, "Cuando el rey Nimrod" which is a song about the birth of Abraham. I hope to release a recording of this song with the RebbeSoul Power Percussion Trio sometime in the near future.

Poland December 9, 2010

2010-12-09T13:31:00.001-08:00

I just played my final concert in Poland on this tour last night, December 9th, the last night of Chanukah at the famous, old yeshiva in Lublin. Here's an old photo of it which is displayed in the yeshiva's museum.

Before Me'ah Sharim, there was Lublin! There is a history of Jewish life in Lublin since the 1300s. In 1939, there were over 42,000 Jews in Lublin. This is yeshiva was the center of Jewish learning. The renown Rabbi Majera Szapira, originator of "Daf Yomi" a page a day of Talmud, was one of the main figureheads at this yeshiva, in the early 1900s.

Rabbi Szapira's picture is on the right.

There were nearly 100 synagogues in this city. Now there is one and I understand, getting a minyan is almost impossible. There are something like 50 Jews in Lublin now. This yeshiva has been beautifully reconstructed. Now, all they need is people. It's empty.

After the war (a phrase I hear several times a day in Poland) there were between 2000 to 3000 Jews, depending on the exact year, who returned to live in Lublin. Jews came to the city from the liberation of central Poland and also from the Soviet Union. This ended with the Kielce pogrom of 1946. Many survivors of the death camps were murdered in this pogrom, as if the Nazis had finished the job yet. The Jewish population dwindled to 1000 and then lower still in the early 1950s. 1968 saw another anti-Semitic campaign and more Jews left Lublin. Jewish sites in the city have experienced some reconstruction since the mid-1980s, thanks to Dr. Symcha Wajs, an earlier resident of Lublin, before the war, although most Jewish residents will confess that Lublin is still not a particularly friendly city for them.

I played at the yeshiva which has a fascinating museum upstairs and was taken on a tour of the building. This is the "bet knesset" or synagogue of the yeshiva, restored with its original windows and everything else. The only new items in this room are the benches.

During the war, the Gestapo took the building and used it for their headquarters. The yeshiva library contained over 20,000 books and all were burned by the Nazis. When the war ended, the yeshiva was turned into a medical school. Eventually, the medical school moved and the yeshiva began to be reconstructed, a process that continues now and hopefully will be complete by the summer of 2010. The plans are for it to be turned into a hotel, still maintaining the historical sites and memorabilia as well as the museum.

Here is a shot of my concert at the yeshiva, taken by the very talented Polish photographer, Jurek Liniewicz. He wrote me this which brought me to tears, "Thank you for your very beautiful and energetic performance. We can be proud to be Jews."

I'm so glad I did this concert as well all the others in Poland. There was the little community of Legnica, beautiful Wroclaw (prononced Breslov) originally Prussian with its amazing architecture, Warsaw of course, Kracow a city I wish I could spend more time in, Poznan (originally Posner in German), Lodz, Czestochowa with it's great school of art for young people where I played, another tiny community - Katowice, and Lublin. I deeply appreciate Rabbi Michael Schudrich, the Chief Rabbi of Poland, for bringing me to his country. This has been an experience I shall never forget.

Being a musician and playing cultural, even religious music affords me the opportunity to do things like this. How grateful I am for what I do. Whatever gifts we have, whatever skills we have, were somehow given to us by G-d and to return the favor is one of the most significant, important, and meaningful things we can do with our lives.

When I finished the concert at the yeshiva in Lublin I was invited to the old shtiebel (little synagogue) in town and was taken around by Luba Matrazek who now manages it. It is still in disrepair but they managed to have a little Chanukah party there a few night before and it is constantly being worked on. This is Luba, pointing to her picture as a young girl in Jewish school just after the war.

Notice that Luba is all bundled up. This is because there is no heat in the place save for a small space heater, during winter in Poland.

The date on this photo to the left reads 1938 and I have a feeling this happy, smiling girl had no idea what would soon be in store for her and her people in a year and a half's time. How life would change. It would soon be horrific.

Most people ended up in the camps and some fled to the woods and joined the partisans. Even after it was all over, pogroms continued where the holocaust left off.

Below is a handmade afikomen cover for the holiday of Pesach (Passover), on display at the shtiebel.

There was a mikvah, a ritual bath at the yeshiva which is being restored. Here is what it looks like now, still being remodeled.

Some of the items were replaced, like the original tile on the floor of the mikvah itself. Below is one of those original tiles from the mikvah. Notice the "Magen David," the star of David.

After the concert and visiting the shtiebel, I was invited to attend a theatre performance of Pinchas Passini, one of the finest directors in Poland, now living in Lublin. It was an outstanding performance from the directing, to the set design, to the acting, to the music. The story is an adaption of Russian fairy tales. Here is what the empty set looked like before the performance began. On each one of the clouds, a video was projected reflecting a certain aspect of the story, featuring the very actors in the play but in real life. I couldn't understand a word but was mesmerized the whole time. The art in Poland and indeed, in much of Eastern Europe is excellent, often far beyond what even exists in the West.

Originally from Warsaw, Pinchas Passini was brought to Lublin as part of a government effort to emancipate their country through the arts and Lublin, as musicians in the States would say, is a good "shake down town." It's out-of-the-way and not expensive and less distracting than the major cities. In short, it's a good place to develop something. Being a Jew there is more difficult than in Warsaw or even Kracow which are places that are more emancipated already and therefor have far less anti-Semitism. Generally, the more remote the location, the harder it is to be a Jew. We went to a little restaurant to have a little nosh while we were talking and to my surprise, in Lublin, there were no kosher restaurants! Where ended up was the closest thing to being kosher as it was considered Jewish style; it is owned by some people in the Jewish community. I saw kosher Israeli wine - Gamla, Yarden, Golan, saw pictures of Jewish life on the walls, ... and of course there was Slivovitz, plum liquor which was so high proof, I gagged, startling Pinchas who nonchalantly polished off his glass in one gulp and ordered another. I'm a wimp with alcohol.

It does appear as Poland is progressing. It's starting in the cities and the government seems to promote a modern, accepting culture. The younger generation does not have the bias of anti-Semitism and is interested in Jewish culture. I met more and more young people who also had Jewish blood in their family histories and were only discovering it now. They are interested, enthusiastic, and intrigued.

I spend Shabbat in Warsaw, courtesy of the Rabbi and then go to Germany.

Poland December 5, 2010

2010-12-05T16:08:00.000-08:00

I spent Shabbat in Kracow. Historic sites, cafes, etc. Went to services in a 2 different, old and now restored synagogues, one being the famous Roma synagogue and the other, the main temple next to the brand new JCC. The Chief Rabbi of Poland, Michael Schudrich led the services and we all celebrated the Bar Mitzvah of Mizrachi Pash, the son of Boaz Pash who is the rabbi of Kracow.

The people of Kracow are genuinely interested and respectful of the Jewish history there. It's everywhere and they are proud of it. I stayed in the Klezmer Hotel which had an old world personality to it and featured a great Klezmer band in the evening. It's also the major hang of klezmer music icon Leopold Kozlowski (The Last Klezmer), whom I met and sat with in the hotel restaurant where there are pictures of him with celebrities all over the walls. He gave me a DVD of one of his concerts and I gave him "Fringe Of Blue."

Last night I played in Warsaw at a big Chanukah event. DJs, VJs,... cool space... actually freezing space! Shared the stage with DJ Krzaku (pronounced "Kshak") from Warsaw who composed some of the most clever and innovative arrangements of music I have heard anywhere. These days, I'm finding more and more musical talent in the DJ world than in the traditional musician world. Years ago, DJs mainly spun records. Now many are like musicians and often, just as creative. DJ Krzaku from last night mixed vocal tracks, grooves, horn lines, and sound effects to create his own material and this is something DJs have been doing for a while now. I'm amazing at how good some of them are. The accessibility and manipulation of digital audio on computers has made it possible for more people to be creative in a recording environment and DJs, many of whom have a musical ear to begin, are now quite inventive, creating their own music.

Every now and then, something small, out of left field brings about a major change. Before Hendrix, electric guitar players avoided distortion from their amps. With Hendrix in the 60s, it was "damn the torpedoes, let's turn everything up and have some fun with it." It revolutionized the guitar world and with that, pop music. The evolution of the instrument at that moment took a jump.

Sometimes it takes some fresh creativity without the bias of what has come before to bring about real change. That's one of the reasons why DJs are making a such a substantial, creative contribution to music now. Their perspective is totally different and therefor can have a fresh outlook on creating music.

Poland December 3, 2010

2010-12-05T16:02:00.000-08:00

The war and the holocaust are more than just old memories here in Poland. People talk about them all the time and how both shaped life here today. One hears things like, "This building has a new facade because the bombings destroyed the old one. The worst pogrom took place in this town square where dozens of Jews were killed."

So far I have visited 2 synagogues in Poland, one in Warsaw and the other in Wroclaw, where I played Thursday night. Both are from before the war, and have been reconstructed. All the synagogues here were destroyed during Kristalnacht. except the one in Wroclaw because it was part of a complex of buildings off a courtyard and it was feared that it's destruction would also ruin the nearby buildings in the process. The Wroclaw synagogue was in terrible repair until several years ago when it was finally rebuilt.

Then...

Now...

Both synagogues have breathtaking acoustics. I could have played all night. In fact when I arrived in Warsaw, which was my first stop on this tour, I went inside the synagogue, heard what it sounded like and grabbed my nylon string. I took a seat near the bima in the center and played there most of the afternoon while people were preparing for a Chanukah party. I couldn't have been more content.

The Name RebbeSoul

2010-11-28T08:58:00.000-08:00

I'm about to play a series of concerts in Europe. As I prepare, I thought of a question often asked and that is where the name, RebbeSoul comes from.

In the early 90s, I was just getting acquainted Jewish lore. I went to my first Orthodox Shabbat dinners, attended some minyans, started listening to our music from all over the Diaspora, and plunged into our stories. I read that the Rebbes were, and still are the mystics, the shamans of the Jewish people. I had already started recording the music for my first album and as it began to reveal itself and take on a life of its own, I knew that I would put a band together around this music. I would call it "Rebbe" in honor of these great, spiritual leaders and because music itself is spiritual. It alludes to something beyond us, if we only get out of the way. The name of the album became "RebbeSoul" because the soul which connects us all, can reflect these same spiritual things, again, if we only get out of the way.

I released independently and when it came out, the press and reviewers invariably called me or the band, RebbeSoul not Rebbe. RebbeSoul was supposed to be the name of the album but It happened so much that I figured I had better get out of the way, myself. So I accepted my fate and was dubbed RebbeSoul. It's also the name of my band and it seems to have stuck.

That first album, "RebbeSoul" contained all original material and only a couple of Jewish songs. I wasn't even thinking of going in a Jewish direction but just wanted to show my roots. My initial version of "Avinu" was on this album and that was about to change everything for me - my music, my career, my religious and spiritual life,... everything. I had no idea then what was about to happen and that's another story I'll get to another time.

Lenny Solomon from Shlock Rock

2010-09-30T13:50:00.000-07:00

This is at the Bet Shemesh Festival in Israel, September 27, 2010. Lenny Solomon from Shlock Rock has something to say.

Recording V'Shamru

2010-09-23T17:22:00.000-07:00

I had just moved to Israel. Roi Levi from a band called "Shotay N'vua" called me up and asked me if I would be interested in playing with a new Israeli artist who had a tune on the radio. That was Assi Zigdon and his hit was a song called "Cham Li Ba'Lev." Being a great songwriter, Assi would soon have more hits in Israel.

I played with him and his band regularly. They were all "sabra" Israelis so it was a great experience for me, getting thrown into the culture of my new country, playing guitar. I also got to know Assi's family, the Zigdons. Guy was his youngest brother and was also a musician but of the production persuasion. He was not a player but sang and produced music on his computer. Guy was 19-years-old and had won a prestigious Israeli competition for electronic music and was awarded lots of studio gear which he set up in the Zigdon house. I told Guy I would help him with guitar parts on his material and played a few, which he recorded. He was really pleased and turned to me and commented, "Now I see what everyone is talking about!" That's always nice to hear I was glad to be of service.

Afterwards, we talked about my upcoming project, an album of Reb Shlomo Carlebach material and he offered to return the favor by recording something for it. I didn't yet know what songs I would record, in fact, I hadn't even started to research and learn Reb Shlomo's songs yet so here I was in a studio with a good producer willing to help, and I had nothing to record!

Recently I had played a wedding on guitar for Nachman Solomon who knew tons of Carlebach songs. I didn't play any of the melodies. Nachman sang them all but they were so catchy, I hoped I would remember one well enough to figure it out on the spot and play it well. I thought of "V'Shamru," a medium tempo, minor key, soulful composition of Reb Shlomo's. I picked a key, came up with the chords, and Guy programmed them in. I was amazed at how quickly Guy, a non-player, wrote in the chords. He had a great ear and filled in things intuitively. Another talented Zigdon!

I set the tempo and worked with him on a half-time groove which he put together in minutes. Now, I had to play the melody to a song I didn't yet really know too well!

I took a deep breathe and started noodling around while he was plugging me in. "Did it go like this? Like that?" My mind was scrambling. "Heaven help me," I thought. Well, Heaven did help me. In a few passes, I had played the melody and it was close enough to what I remembered from that wedding gig. I didn't have time to over-intellectualize and it came out kind of bluesy which was very true to my musical roots. I had learned how to play guitar listening to rock and blues players, so it felt right.

The song had a verse and a bridge but it needed another section to keep it interesting so I asked Guy to set aside 8 bars for a solo and I came up with some chords to play over. He hit record and I burned a solo over the progression. Now I just needed an ending.

I arranged a vamp which slowly faded out on the tonic chord and I played very sparingly over it, ending up with a little octave lick. Very simple. Listening back, we did a few edits like a breakdown after the solo and Guy put in sound effects which were perfect for the "chill" music vibe. Later on at home, I did my own intro and a synth bass part which I sent him over the internet.

Many of the songs of Reb Shlomo Carlebach are are traditional prayers put to his own melodies. "V'Shamru" is about observing the Sabbath and how it commemorates G-d's covenant with "Bnai Yisrael," the people of Israel. It reflects that G-d worked in creating the world in 6 days and then stopped and rested on the 7th, which is the Sabbath day. It is a bond between G-d and us, between the metaphysical and the physical, the connection between the world beyond and the world here.

"V'Shamru" the opening track of the "From Another World" album and is still one I enjoy most playing, live.