March / April 2006:

Pretty in punk
Punk bands are known for being underground. But Jewish? Let’s start digging.

Story by Silas Reeves | Photo by Ilya Melnikov


The grittiest, dirtiest, and most raucous punk band this side of Tel Aviv almost never came to be. A day after his audition for the Genders, a three-piece punk group comprised of Amir Neubach, Orr Kahlon, and Ofer Korichoner, Kahlon went out to a local dive for a couple of beers with friends. At the bar, he ran into some trouble when a drunk poured a pint on his head. Kahlon subsequently knocked his antagonist out cold, rendering his right hand useless for three weeks. Despite this altercation, the Genders still rock. They also sweat, scream, and swagger as part of a new generation of Jewish punks.

When I was in middle school I listened to the Ramones constantly. The high-energy three-chord songs of the Brooklyn-born trio were the anthem for my defiant adolescent years. The Ramones — with Jewish frontman Joey Ramone — were one of the many early punk bands to come out the 1970s, along with such groups as the New York Dolls and the Sex Pistols. Musically, punk rock has been loud, fast, abrasive, and anti-establishment since its formation. Most modern punk bands have retained the edge of their predecessors, but some have toned down their rebellious nature, creating a more mainstream pop-punk style — including a surprising litany of Jewish bands.

There is a prevailing ethos in punk of rebellion and defiance. Charming Hostess, a Jewish punk band with an avant-garde slant, formed at a sprawling anarchist hive in Berkley, California. It’s led by Jewlia Eisenberg who’s on a mission to make music based on the voices, texts, and Diaspora consciousnesses of Jewish, African, and Bosnian communities.

The music of Charming Hostess is rich with culture and technique. Their latest release, Sarajevo Blues, incorporates soulful voices, beat-boxing, and even a string trio. The album is a contemporary reckoning of past events, using history as a springboard to explore the Jewish and Bosnian experiences within the themes of genocide, nationalism, and freedom during times of constraint. On Charming Hostess’ website fans can sift through the band’s past releases as well as those from Jewlia’s numerous side projects, including Charming Hostess Big Band, an album that has the group singing Bulgarian Blues with an accompanying punk-klezmer band.

In contrast with the depth of Charming Hostess’ musical mission, the Genders are pure punk: sleazy, primitive, and unapologetic. Amir Neubach, the group’s guitarist and singer, explains, “We’re all self-taught badass streetwise rock and rollers with no formal music backgrounds.” The Gender’s first album, Rockin’ in Ramallah — available from their website — churns with thrashing rhythms, hilarious lyrics, and tangy guitar riffs. One standout track, “Horatio,” relates the tale of a cunningly named Brooklyn Jew who immigrates to Israel to join the Israeli Defense Force as a tanker in an effort to get the girls. On his journey, he finds a very Jewish way to “get kicks with the settler chicks” without breaking any taboos (use your imagination).

The Genders acknowledge the fact that they live in the most disputed strip of land in the world, but only let their politics slip into their songs through the back door. “It’s all tongue in cheek, and not meant to be read into that deeply,” admits Neubach. “But I also think it’s our most valuable asset, since we have a totally fresh lyrical outlook on current events, unlike many ‘anti-war’ political bands in the Western Hemisphere that have no real hands-on experience.” Their upcoming album, tentatively titled Assassination Fascination, will feature the track “Virgin Number 72.” The song, a first-person’s account of a suicide bomber’s last bus ride, will theorize in sleaze-rock idiom that fanatic Jihad missions are fueled by extreme teenage lust for scantily clad Holy Land women.

Being Israeli, the Genders’ Judaism takes a form different from that of American Jews. “Here we’re national Jews. It’s our nationality, but most of us are completely secular in our way of life,” Neubach says. The Genders do their own promotion and booking, using Myspace.com to a great advantage. “I know many people hate Myspace.com, but for us it’s the incarnation of the true ‘do it yourself’ spirit of punk. You get an excellent free taste of what we’re all about, and then you choose to follow the hyperlink, buy our CD, or come out and see us live when we’re in your neighborhood. That’s as punk as it gets.”

If the Genders are too punk for you, then it might be time to put on some klezmer, but not your bubbe’s folk songs. We’re talking about the explosive fusions of Golem, Heeb magazine’s “Best Jewish Punk Band” of 2005. Formed in November of 2000, Golem features a lineup of classically trained musicians that take traditional klezmer and Yiddish theater/folk songs and infuse them with a unique punk rock spirit. “That comes from our rock drums, a lot of screaming, and the subversive irreverent personalities of the performers,” explains co-founder Annette Ezekiel. “But if you look closely, we aren’t changing much — the wildness and sexiness is all right there in the music.”

Because of the band mates’ various backgrounds — many of the members have experience in avant-jazz and Eastern European music — Golem’s influences are diverse. And, to be honest, they laugh when they hear them being referred to as a punk band. “On the one hand, there’s not much that can be pointed out as punk in our music — we thrash, but not always. We don’t even have a guitar,” Ezekiel says. “And yet, our attitude and the way we approach the music is punk — especially when compared to other bands performing this type of music.” You can sample that music on their website.

While rebellion, individuality, and anti-elitism are what makes punk appealing to Golem, the outsider spirit is what links punk to Eastern European Jewish identity. “Yiddish itself was an outsider language. It wasn’t used with the outside world. It was used for prayer. Yiddish was an unofficial language of the home — beloved but somewhat secret.” A truism, perhaps, for Jewish punk itself.



If you'd like to comment on this article, email us a Letter to the Editor.