The playbook for ambitious Israeli musicians with ambitions beyond the domestic sphere is pretty thin. Two pages long, in fact. One option is to go ethnic and try to crack the World Music scene. The problem is for every Idan Raichel, there are a thousand vaguely inoffensive wannabes. No one in the music business wants to be a vaguely inoffensive wannabe. The other option is going English. English is the lingua franca of music and its biggest markets. The thing is though, it’s a trap. It’s so easy to sound…well, not real. Remember Mick Jagger’s weak attempts at Hebrew the other week? Good. That wasn’t a problem, because it was intended to have novelty value. Now think of a whole album of the same. That’s the risk most Israeli groups run when they go down the English route.
I went to see Va’adat Charigim the other night at the Ozen Bar. My wife, an academic, explained that Va’adat Charigim means The Exceptions Committee. They (the real committee, not the band) sit in universities and determine which students to allow on to the next year, even though they didn’t fulfill the necessary, boring requirements like passing their exams and stuff. Like a good boy, I did a bit of homework about the band. Shoegaze, a phrase I haven’t heard in an age, came up a lot in reviews. Their choice to sing in Hebrew too.
I felt a bit like the novelty that night though. I’m old enough to remember the 80s from first time around, you see. The crowd was cheerful and enthusiastic, much like support act Document. Document, a guitar heavy five-piece, sang in English. This was a problem, because whilst they got the New Wave schtick of The Cure and Echo and the Bunnymen down pat, their singer sounded vaguely wistful rather than menacing. To be fair, it might be me and not them, but I did feel a bit underwhelmed.
Not so with Va’adat Charigim, who came on stage just before midnight. They oozed not-at-all-subtle malevolent intent, scarcely acknowledging the audience. Guitarist and singer Yuval Haring played the first ten minutes through a curtain of hair, as thick as the impressive wall of sound they created. Whilst I see the similarities, I’m not entirely certain I’d pigeonhole them strictly as a Shoegaze band. They have a real edge. Perhaps a My Bloody Valentine for the 21st Century. (My Bloody Valentine made a new album not very long ago. I didn’t listen to it. My feeling is that certain things belong to a particular time and place, and MBV is one of them. But I digress.)
The thing about this kind of music is that it is an acquired taste, which can dull the critical faculties somewhat. Either you buy into the package or not. That said, I quite liked them. The issue of Hebrew lyrics becomes a non-issue very quickly, because it is the sensibility they communicate that matters. Even though they’ve toured their album, HaOlam Avad Mizman (The World is Well Lost, as they call it in English – you can get it on Bandcamp) extensively across the States and Europe over the last few months, it still sounds crisp. Album favourites like Odisea (Odyssey, in English. Choice lyric, loosely translated: “What will I wear in the next war?”), HaOlam Avad Mizman and Machshefot (Witches) kept the crowd happy. A new song (name unregistered: your correspondent made the basic error of sitting under a loudspeaker) revealed an intriguing subtlety, especially in the chord progressions. It’s a trick that post-rock groups like Mogwai use particularly well, maintaining the sense of barely-controlled danger or menace. Not that they scared me at all. Halfway through Machshefot, I realised that the bassist was standing beside me, stage left. Swigging from a bottle of water. Very rock and roll, keeping oneself hydrated. What with that and with trusting their instincts by singing in Hebrew, I think they’ll go very far. They know what’s best for them.
Va’adat Charigim’s album, HaOlam Avad MiZman can be purchased through Anova Music and iTunes.
