June 10, 1999
Klezmer is the indigenous music of the Jewish people, sort of Israel's answer to Delta Blues. Knowing this, and having been intrigued by kelzmer in the past (anyone hear the stunning "Ghost of Stephen Foster" off of the Squirrel Nut Zipper's Perennial Favorites?), I picked up this album based on the comedy of the band's name and album title alone.
I was not disappointed - Rhythm + Jews might be a hilarious name, but the Klezmatics are far from kidding around. As suggested by the matzoh-in-cheek title, though, they are no dusty traditionalists. The Klezmatics' music falls somewhere in between the classic klezmer of Naftule Brandwein and the spacey free-jazz klezmer as gorgeously mauled by John Zorn. (Think of Robert Johnson and Sun Ra as corollary reference points, for the uninitiated.)
Don't expect anything so tame as "Sunrise, Sunset." With violin, accordion, cornet and especially the clarinet (klezmer's melancholy heart) whipped into a cyclone of improvisation and passionate soloing, The Klezmatics turn traditional recordings on their yarmulke and give their originals some serious fire. This is Middle Eastern existentialism spun through the coked-up sensibilities of downtown New Yorkers, and it's big, impressive fun.
The heart-piercing highs and somber lows of the clarinet are perhaps the closest mankind's instruments have come to capturing the ineffable moans of the human heart - it's a sadly neglected sound in modern American music, and for that reason alone is this record valuable. Exotic textures and wildly danceable rhythms make your head spin and your feet stomp - this record is satisfying for the head, heart and booty.
- Jared O'Connor
Hava Tequila