Shalom Gad - Halav 🥛: A New Album and a Little About the Artist
A confession: although I have listened to much more of it in recent years, Hebrew-language music is not always easy for me, especially softer pop and rock. It is almost certainly more of a psychological barrier.
While writing this, I was amused to find Shalom Gad describing his own work as an exploration of how beautiful a pop song can be without being foolish.
But one thing always penetrates that kind of psychological armor 🦔, as it does in any good communication: the sincerity, identification and authenticity the person on the other side, here the artist, awakens in you.
Gad gets through that armor. There is no simpler way to put it: I believe him when he sings and plays. It comes across, regardless of the specific subject.
His distinctive delivery makes Hebrew suddenly sound so beautiful. His lyrics mix everyday and family matters with social observation and occasional criticism. As he describes the new album, these are small songs about life and death.
For me, all these qualities are bonuses in the packaging. The real gift is that authenticity.
That is probably also what has built his devoted audience. It may not be enormous, but it has grown slowly and steadily over the years.
A little about the album 💿
A lovely example is the closing song, "Shakuf Ze Hatzeva Hachi Yafe" ("Transparent Is the Most Beautiful Color"), released yesterday with "Halav" ("Milk") 🥛. This is his 14th album when counting the "Shalom Gad and the Diamonds" releases and the two "Ha'Eved" project albums.
Like the rest of the album, it is minimally produced, with a gentle, beautiful melody. The lyrics recall the past year: elections, perhaps communities demanding transparency, and the invisibility of an ordinary person trying to court someone who will not notice him.
Other currents run through the album. Despite its slower tempo, "Hamu'amedet Shelanu" ("Our Candidate") may be its most rock-oriented song.
A distorted riff ⚡ runs throughout, with lovely stabs from a second guitar. They join after the chorus in a feeling of refusal to give up, pressing toward victory and a final confrontation.
"Eirom Vera'ev" ("Naked and Hungry") rocks too, more energetically, with wah-wah guitar 🎸 and a fine solo. It explores the loneliness of recent months at home, and perhaps life more broadly: arriving naked and hungry, eventually ending alone, and asking many questions along the way. I especially liked its challenge to following the herd, questioning the desire to dance only to perfectly predictable songs.
The first video, released a few months ago, was "Ani Mocher" ("I Sell"). Its slow pace is brightened by harmonica with a country flavor, also heard in the following "Lehamshich Lazuz" ("Keep Moving"). Ordinary sales gradually become moral ones: language, body parts and values. A kind of collective sleep invites an awakening and the recovery of forgotten brotherhood.
"Bishvil Habidur" ("For Entertainment") also touches feelings some of us may hesitate to admit having during this pandemic year: meaninglessness amid chaos and inactivity, with entertainment as a painkiller, both what we consume and what we try to broadcast ourselves.
But as the next song, "Hahona'a Shel Hamea" ("The Fraud of the Century"), suggests, a reckoning eventually comes for all that entertainment consumed and produced, as personal or public deception explodes 💥 in our faces.
A little history ⏳
Gad began in the late 1980s, joining "Punch" as bassist and contributing vocals and writing to some songs.
Around two years after the band broke up, he played guest bass alongside the late Gabriel Balhassan and his younger brother Aviv Guedj on "Algiers"' debut, "Ne'emanut Utshuka" ("Loyalty and Passion", 1995).
In 1996, he released the solo album "Besof Hamidbar" ("At the End of the Desert"). Its title track is probably his best-known song beyond his devoted audience:
In 2000, Gad also established "Ha'Eved" ("The Servant"), bringing secular artists together to perform songs about faith 🙏 and religion, most of them written by Gad.
A brief reunion with Yossi Babliki and the other "Punch" members produced "Dana Ra'ata UFO" in 2002. Around two years later, Gad played on Babliki's "Hagveret Im Hayahalomim" ("The Lady with the Diamonds") and reunited with Balhassan and Guedj on "Algiers"' magnificent "Menu'im Kadima" ("Engines Forward").
His independent output has been remarkably prolific, including six albums between 2010 and 2012 and the trilogy "Tel Aviv", "Jerusalem" and "Talmei Eliyahu".
In recent years, he has also led writing workshops, taught private lessons, produced recordings and shared his musical knowledge.
Whether you have a similar barrier to local music or simply want to discover more, here are some ways into Gad's world:
Comments