The Matisyahu Phenomenon: Good for the Jews or Bad?

It’s a moment I never thought would come. On my way to the library, I pass by a Best Buy that advertises its musical selection with three draping banners of today’s hottest stars: a half-naked Latin woman, a make-up caked goth…
And a black-hatter with a rabbinical beard.
The last face is hard to escape these days. Open up a newspaper, a magazine, a web browser, or just take a walk down the commercial streets of Manhattan: Matisyahu is everywhere. He’s on TRL, singing about Hashem and Mashiach and rachamim min shamayim. His name is on the cover of this month’s Spin. Wisconsin hicks who thought Jews were some kind of horned fairies last month are explaining the term ‘Yeshivish’ to their parents, as defined by Rolling Stone.
And for those of you too frum for Rolling Stone, never fear: you can still hear his music at Eichler’s.
I have a confession to make.
I am confused.
Part of me wants to feel proud. Growing up in a relatively small Jewish community, it never occurred to me that Jewish music could compete in the same arena as radio fodder. Let’s face it, what are we, two percent of the population? It’s weird, it’s alien to be a Jew outside of New York; we couldn’t keep a pizza shop open, let alone put a music star on MTV! Television, radio, papers—they weren’t aimed at an audience like me. I wasn’t who they were talking to, I was eavesdropping on American culture, and so I never expected to see a reflection of anything familiar on a Best Buy poster. That’s why you sort of want to root for him, don’t you? It’s like having a Jewish athlete at the Olympics: you’re cheering because he’s one of yours, in a competition where no one else is like you.
Yet as sweet and cockle-warming as that idea might be, I’m not sure that we are the team Matisyahu is batting for.
There are a few questions I think need consideration when you talk about pop culture fame for an Orthodox Jew, or rather, pop culture fame for being an Orthodox Jew. Plenty of religious Jews have done noteworthy things: written books, produced movies, almost anything you can imagine. However, the focus of their fame is not their religion, but their art. Matisyahu, on the other hand, seems to draw as much attention to his affiliation as his music. His instantly recognizable Chabad style—suit, beard, tzizis, hat—functions as a gimmick, and if he doesn’t consciously intend for it to do so, his advertisers certainly do. This is because unlike any other album of Jewish music to date, the main purchasers of Matisyahu’s cd—and I think, to a certain extent, the people who attend his concerts—are not Jewish.
That changes quite a bit. Suddenly, it’s not ourselves we’re singing to; it’s the rest of the world. These people can’t tell the subtle difference between one type of Orthodox and another, they don’t even understand Matisyahu’s lyrics, and as his fame grows, chances are that when someone mentions ‘Orthodox’ to them, or even just ‘Jew’, Matisyahu is going to be the first image more and more people conjure up. Like it or not, Matisyahu’s our representative to the world. How should we feel about that? Is he an accurate reflection of who we are?
It’s not a simple question. I’m not sure Matisyahu even accurately reflects Chabad, let alone most of the Orthodox world. You may argue that it isn’t fair to burden Matisyahu with the impossible task of representing the Orthodox, but by making religion his gimmick, he has signed himself up for the job.
Furthermore, both Matisyahu and his music are so ubiquitous these days that they draw a considerable amount of attention to the Orthodox community. That prompts another question: do we want this attention? Is it good or bad?
I am torn. I’ve heard people say that the attention is good, because it will reach and inspire more secular Jews in a way that no Chevra album ever stands a chance of accomplishing. Some think that Matisyahu can pique the interest of Jews who have no other connection to their religion and bring them closer to Judaism. I think that probably could happen; if it’s ‘cool’ to like Matisyahu, and by correlation, ‘cool’ to be Jewish, some good may definitely be accomplished. But despite the hype, I seriously doubt Jewish reggae is going to be the next rock n’ roll. What happens when Matisyahu becomes suddenly and terribly out of vogue? Do the new kipah and tzizis go with it?
Let’s consider that for a moment. What does happen when Matisyahu gets old? What happens when tabloids start digging for dirt? That, too, reflects on us. The superstar treatment—or even just the fad of the moment—includes microscopic scrutiny of every action and word. If Matisyahu slips up, if he cracks under pressure or is caught in any compromising situation, suddenly it’s a commentary on the Orthodox community. These are issues that were debated way back in 2000 when Joe Lieberman made it to the ballot. I remember being angry then that many Jews spoke about deliberately not voting for Gore to prevent such a situation from taking place, but while I still support Lieberman, I’m not so sure that I need an Orthodox reggae singer on TRL to worry about.
It is my last question, however, which disturbs me the most.
I put all the questions I mentioned here to an Orthodox musician, wondering if he had any insight into the Matisyahu phenomenon. For the most part, his answers echoed my questions, as well as opinions I’d heard from other people who discussed this. The last question, though, prompted a different response. It talked about my perception of the two worlds—the sphere of Jewish music and the people MTV was talking to—as being separate, a perception apparently held by many Orthodox artists up to this point. My question was: were we wrong all along? Is it in fact possible for these two worlds to mix—for a religious Jew to have a music video on TRL?
At this point the musician corrected me, framing the question in a different light: “Is it possible for a religious Jew to put himself in the many questionable situations it takes to get TRL to play his video?”
There is, he said, no inherent problem with having a video on MTV, just as there is no inherent problem with having a non-Jew buy your album or come to your concert. But getting the video there takes work, and you’ve got to interact with some problematic things. Perhaps the reason why no Orthodox Jew has ever ‘broken out’ before is not because none have ever been as musically adventurous as Matisyahu—which is not all that much—but because they chose not to deal with these things. They preferred to stick to the cleaner waters and play for the people they were singing to in the first place.
It is very nice to cheer on Jewish athletes at the Olympics, but all pride and team spirit aside, I think perhaps the last way is the better way to go. To mangle a popular saying, non-Jews need Jewish music like a fish needs a bicycle. It’s the same as Madonna’s Kabbalah. Don’t get me wrong: if the music is good enough, maybe non-Jews will like it, and good for them. But to specifically target non-Jewish audiences does not sit well with me. Forget about all the complicating risks—I think it just misses the point.
Still, I am unsure. And the question lingers: how should we feel about Matisyahu?