Singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and producer, Tomer Yeshayahu is one of the most important artists on the Israeli alternative scene, and his new album, “בסוף זה אנשים” (“Ba’sof ze anashim”), just reviewed on OndaRock, stands as one of the finest examples of the cross-cultural fusion at play in that part of the world. He kindly agreed to a chat interview with us, mainly about his latest effort. Discussing his work, the artist opens by stressing his aversion to rigid categorisations and classifications on the subject: "Musical genres are prisons, and personally I want to be aware of not having a glass ceiling. My interests are people, their complexities, pure sounds, and drawing songs out of all that. Generally I think writing is a great thing, creating is a profound act, but slapping on labels is good for listeners, less so for artists. As a musician I want to have an entry ticket to every place. If not physically, then at least with my heart and mind."
Are musicians on the Israeli alternative scene able to make a living from music alone today? I ask because in Italy the alternative scene isn't doing too well and the mainstream now seems to have smothered the underground, so I'm curious to know how things work in a much smaller country.
The general answer is yes. I do a lot of things in the world of music. I write music for various projects, until recently I produced albums for other artists, and over the past year I've been teaching composition at one of the country's biggest music schools. There are good years in a career when you play a lot of shows and earnings are higher and more satisfying, and there are less fortunate years, as in any field, in which case you have to invest in other directions within the world of music. I think this holds true in Italy just as it does in Israel. I'm not someone who's too critical about it. It depends on many factors. Personally, it seems to me that nowadays, even before having good songs, an approach to follow, or a repertoire, you have to sell out all the tickets in advance. In other words, the status derived from sold-out shows matters more than actually reaching people. I've promised myself, and I try to keep that promise every day, that this way of doing things won't guide my creativity.
Can you describe the cultural scene you grew up in and your relationship with it?
Israel is a young nation, with many different communities, and its culture is still taking shape. Unfortunately, in recent years, the culture has been becoming increasingly Americanised. When I was a teenager, the impression was that cultural fusion was greater. Either way, we still have artists who express themselves magnificently in my eyes, and I consider them my masters. I can add that I love old Italian music. For example, Fabrizio De André, one of the greatest artists of all time as far as I'm concerned. He's not known in Israel, which is a shame. When I want to introduce people to him, I describe him as the Italian Arik Einstein.
That's a very fitting comparison — I've always sensed a parallel between the two myself, both for the role and place they occupy within their respective cultures, and because they curiously share a similar vocal timbre. Moving on: how did you first get interested in music, and when did you decide to start making your own?
I couldn't say exactly. At first I was immersed in music, but I didn't know I wanted to make it. Over time, I came to understand that I was interested in it and that it was something I wanted to do with my life. First I produced two albums with the band I had at the time, Isaiah. From there I somehow ended up producing a record for a band called Jane Bordeaux (editor's note: their self-titled debut album, released in 2014). I still wasn't sure I wanted to be a producer, but that album was a success in Israel, going gold. From then on, requests started pouring in and I found myself working as a producer. I did it intensively until 2021, then I decided I needed a break. Now I'm trying to get interested in that field again.
What instruments can you play?
I'm comfortable with bouzouki and guitar. Those are my main instruments, the ones I use to conceive and write music. In the studio, if needed, I can also play drums, bass and keyboards.
Was there a particular event in your life that influenced you as an artist?
Yes, meeting the Israeli singer-songwriter Amir Lev. He's almost thirty years older than me. We met and since then, for about ten years now, we've stayed in close contact. He checks, edits and gives me suggestions for every song. He's a very important figure in my life, both as an artist and as a person. I think he's greater than Leonard Cohen. He's had a huge influence on me, in the writing and creative process, as well as as a person.
Your new album is very different from what you've produced so far. From what I've been able to listen to, your previous records contained an alternative pop-rock with melancholic, nostalgic atmospheres, while the new one is closer to muzika mizrahit (as music influenced by the cultures of neighbouring countries — the Middle East, Mediterranean Africa, Turkey, Greece — is known in Israel).
Many things influenced this change. Life in Israel is so hectic, there's a sense that every person has many layers. Me included. This music isn't foreign to me, because I've been listening to it since I was a child. My guitar hero is Aris San, a Greek singer who changed the face of Mediterranean music in Israel between the Sixties and the Eighties. I've also been playing bouzouki since I was sixteen.
My grandfather introduced me to the music you call Eastern. But what I'm trying to create is Israeli music, not Eastern or Indian, and not pop or alternative either. Sometimes it works out and I feel like I'm on the right path. Other times I feel like I'm not getting there. In general, this is the story of anyone who creates, who makes art, who experiments, trying to see if there are sides of themselves they didn't know before.
The new album was rewritten from scratch twice. Every time I reached a certain point, I felt there was something even deeper to add, until thankfully that feeling stopped and I was able to record it and release it. There's no doubt we live in an area with the widest possible variety. Somehow we have to learn to live together with others. We haven't managed it yet, but maybe through music we can. Or at least, I try.
If you'd like, you could tell us more about the varied nature of Israeli culture. (For Italian readers: musically speaking, Israel boasts a scene of remarkably broad horizons, due to the huge number of places from which Jews have arrived there – just think of David Broza's flamenco, Yehuda Poliker's Greek music, Chava Alberstein's klezmer, the traditional Yemenite music of Ofra Haza or A-Wa, not to mention influences from the English-speaking world, the Arab world, and so on).
Since I was born, I haven't known anything else. Having been born into it, it feels natural to me, almost like the sun rising.
What can you tell us about the collaborators you chose for this new album?
Amir Lev, whom I already mentioned, always helps me polish the lyrics. In my country there's a very high sensitivity around words. As for the others, there's not much to say, they're all wonderful musicians. But before the players, there are the people. If I know I can develop a connection, then I invite them to play with me. I don't choose musicians before talking with them a lot, before we've gotten to know each other and I've seen that they can put heart and soul into the project. Many of the musicians are close friends of mine, some of them played on my previous albums.
Tell us about the recording process for the album.
As I said, the album was rewritten from scratch twice, and I decided I wouldn't record a single note until I felt completely sure about the songs. For a long time I walked around with the songs in my head and didn't record them, until last summer came along (ed.: 2023) and I decided it was time to start the sessions. So I found the group of musicians for the album, and as if by miracle, in a very short time, we recorded it.
What are the songs on your new album about? (Alongside this question I compliment him on the musical richness of the work)
Thank you so much, truly. The album's title means "In the end, they're people". There are songs about small stories, my own stories, feelings. Over the last three years I've gone through a kind of crisis. You could call it an identity crisis, a thirties crisis, then new fatherhood... in short, a crisis. I tried to put my feelings into words in this work. Even the songs that don't tell my own stories are filtered through my interpretation. For example, "Gat 3" is about a young woman from Haifa who sadly died in an accident in Sinai. Her brother called me during the Shiva (ed.: the seven-day mourning period observed in Judaism following the death of a close relative) and asked me to come see him. The song is about the time I spent with them during the Shiva, about a couple of hours, and about how important she was to her family and friends, and all the important things she did. Actually, it's the first song I wrote for the album.
Will you release your album in physical format, or is there no room left for that in the local market?
I won't be pressing it, but I don't want to be the one boasting about that either. Pressing it wouldn't be worthwhile: when there's extra room in the budget, then we press it, but most of the time there isn't.
Any future plans in mind?
I'll always keep trying to write songs. Right now I'm writing a new album, and I hope to keep going like this, so that, God willing, I'll be able to record and release it.
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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Federico Romagnoli, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.
| אופניים חשמליים (Mybe Tmrw, 2016) | ||
| Boidem (Mybe Tmrw, 2016) | ||
| Tripoli (Mybe Tmrw, 2017) | ||
| מונומנט (Anova, 2019) | ||
| Manuella (Anova, 2020) | ||
| אגם הלימון (Anova, 2021) | ||
| בורמה (EP, self-released, 2022) | ||
| הופעות חיות במפעל הפיס (EP, self-released, 2022) | ||
| סוכר טלוויזיה (with Alon Eder, Yahalom, 2002) | ||
| בסוף זה אנשים [Ba'sof ze anashim] (Mybe Tmrw, 2024) |