Koby Israelite gets bored easily, which explains his insatiable appetite for seemingly everything. He’s a multi-instrumentalist, with virtuosic mastery of the drums, accordion, and piano. He also has stellar chops on bass and guitar, and can hold his own on various woodwinds, horns, and an oddball assortment of other instruments as well. That wanderlust also extends to genre, and, in addition to the blues, metal, punk, country, and roots Americana, he has mastery of numerous world styles including multiple Balkan folk musics, klezmer, and others. He’s comfortable playing those various styles in their pristine form, although he’s more likely to mash them together, changing genre and feel many times within a given song, and sometimes even within a given section or phrase.
But that’s not all, Israelite is a creature of the studio, too. He produces, collaborates, and records with multiple artists, although in his case, that usually means he’s playing most, if not all, of the instruments, and has a hand in the arranging and composing. His many projects include collaborations with vocalists Annique (Lucy Annick Randell) and Mor Karbasi, composing music for the Romanian brass ensemble, Fanfare Ciocarlia, and scoring for film and TV. His most recent excursions include arranging for symphonic-style string sections, and mastering the innovative MIDI synth trigger, the Roli Seaboard.
“My next goal is to be the best Roli player on the planet,” Israelite says. “I think I am number two right now. There is an Italian guy who is like the main guy for Roli. He demonstrates, but he does other people’s music. I do my own music on the Roli. It changed my life. I first used it on the Rest of Now, which was my first album with Chant.”
As a leader, Israelite’s discography includes four releases on John Zorn’s Tzadik Records, a number of albums for the Berlin-based world music label, Asphalt Tango, and two releases on Chant Records, including his recent collaboration, Provokation, with Romanian accordion virtuoso, Roberto De Brasov.
“Roberto is so good,” Israelite says in our interview below. “He’s one of the best accordion players in the world. He’s a true virtuoso of the instrument, and he took me away from the accordion. [He made me] realize that I don’t have much to say on this instrument.”
Humility and the ability to see greatness in others aside, Israelite still has a lot to say—musically and otherwise. I spoke with him on the phone from London, and we discussed his fortuitous introduction to world music, his association with Zorn and the New York Jewish music scene, his many collaborations, and why, despite his success in multiple indiums, he’s still acquiring new skills.
You started playing music at a young age.
I studied the piano for four years, until I was 10, and that’s the only formal music training that I had. Except for that, I am pretty much self taught. I didn’t like to play the piano because it was a geeky thing to do, but I also had good ears, and I used to play songs for the girls…
When did you start playing drums?
I begged my parents for a drum kit for as long as I can remember, but they always were against it. They said, “Play violin, or piano, or guitar,” because we lived in apartment in Israel, and it was too much with the neighbors and the noise. But when I was 14-and-a-half, they got me a drum kit, and that’s when I fully started my musical journey. I nearly went to Berklee in the 1980s, but then my father had a heart attack, and I thought, “He’s ill, I don’t want to go that far, and London is much closer.” So I chose London, but I was accepted to study at Berklee.
Did you play in bands?
I used to play in bands. My first band was just a few days after I started playing the drums. We played Sex Pistols covers in Hebrew. I used to be into punk, and then I moved to rock. I discovered Led Zeppelin, and that still remains with me. They are one of my biggest influences. It’s been 30-odd years, and I am still hooked. From there, I was drawn towards heavy metal, and then later on, jazz fusion and jazz. And then even later on, I got into world music. Now, I am getting out of world music again. I don’t like to stay in one place for a long time, I get bored easily.
What was your introduction to world music?
I was married at the time, and my wife bought myself and her to see Taraf de Haïdouks [a band from Romania that plays traditional Romanian music]. I had no clue about world music—let alone Balkan music—but Charolette, she was my wife, knew that mother was from Romania, and she thought it would be a nice thing for me to see my roots. I was pretty much against it. I saw old guys who weren’t particularly attractive. But after two minutes, I discovered God in the music. I understood that I needed to become an accordionist [laughs]. I know it is weird, man, but I bought an accordion and I basically started from scratch. I had a good right hand because of the piano—it is somewhat similar, although it isn’t—and I got really into the Gypsy style, which is very enigmatic. I dedicated myself to the accordion. I started to write heavy music, but infused with ethnic stuff, and I sent it to John Zorn. To my sheer surprise and astonishment, he loved it. I released four albums with his label, Tzadik Records. Although it wasn’t always a smooth ride between me and Zorn.
It’s amazing that he listened to your demo and got back to you. You’re not the first person to tell me that.
Yeah, and I am kind of proud out it because I am the second Israeli on Tzadik. Daniel Zamir was the first. But that scene was never my scene. It’s too avant-garde for me. I am always labeled as a crazy musician, but I am not at all. I always say in interviews that every bit of my music—even the craziest, heaviest stuff—always has something pretty in it for my mom to love. I wasn’t sitting right with the Tzadik scene, but I was happy that someone liked my music. After that, our ways parted, and I released an album with Asphalt Tango, Blues From Elsewhere, and I also did some work with a friend of mine, Annique, who is a singer that I write the music together with and produce. I released a few albums on Asphalt Tango. I write music for Fanfare Ciocarlia, which is the biggest gypsy band in the world [also on Asphalt Tango]. It’s like selling ice to the Eskimos, it’s so cool.
It’s interesting that Zorn’s scene wasn’t for you, because you do a lot of the same extreme genre hoping—from, say, metal, to klezmer, to disco—that he does.
I know, but I got really bored with it, and it was limiting me. We had this philosophical argument about, “What is Jewish music?” I told Zorn that his idea of “Jewish music” is not what an Iraqi Jew’s or Moroccan Jew’s idea of Jewish music is. John Zorn leans into this klezmer, Ashkenazi music, but Jewish music is much more varied than that. But then I realized that life is full of limitations and compromises, and even in Tzadik, where apparently you are free to do whatever you want, you’re not. He wanted this Jewish vibe, and I was really restricted to do that. But look, I am not being ungrateful. He’s a great musician, and I owe him my career. He was the only one who gave me a chance.
How is it now with Chant Records?
That’s what I love about Chant, I can do what I want. I don’t go crazy now. I am in my early 50s. I am a grown man now. I have done the crazy music. Now, I am looking to do some other stuff. The last two albums that I released are on Chant.
You recently released Provokation, with Roberto De Brasov.
Yes, that one is very mellow. It’s very melodic. It’s not heavy. And how good is Roberto?
He's fantastic, you don’t even play accordion on the album.
I didn’t touch the accordion. Well, I did play one song on accordion. But because of Roberto—I spent a good part of the year with him, to write and put out the album. I have a studio in my house, and he basically lived with me. He’s so good. He’s one of the best accordion players in the world. He’s a true virtuoso of the instrument. And he took me away from the accordion. I realized that I don’t have much to say on this instrument. I am writing new material, and there is very little accordion, just as a background. It’s not a lead instrument like I used to have on my albums. That album with Roberto, as much as I am proud of that album, it took me away from the accordion. But I have plenty of other instruments that I mess about with, so it’s all good.
How did you meet up with Chant, was that through Zorn?
I met Shanir Blumenkranz in England, and we played a gig together. We remained in touch. If we lived in the same city, we’d be good friends. I really love Shanir. I never met Jon Madof, but I was aware of Jon because of his band, Rashanim. When they started Chant, Jon contacted me. He’s a great guy, and a great guitarist, and a great musician—and Shanir as well.
How long have you been working with Annique?
We’ve been working together for 10 years, and we released two albums. Now we’re working on a third one, which is going to be only covers, but really quirky. We take cheesy covers, like, “She's a Maniac” [the Michael Sembello song from the 1983 movie, Flashdance], but we do it in a really prog-y way. She’s great, and I also work with Mor Karbasi. We’ve collaborated before, on one of my albums on Tzadik, and also on Blues From Elsewhere. I recently did a song for her, and I might do a whole album for her. Mor is an amazing singer and musician.
What is your role as producer?
As a producer, I play all the instruments and arrange the song. I produce the song. But I am lucky. I hardly ever have to call other musicians, because I play most of the instruments myself. I also produce a few singers in Israel, and I write for Fanfare Ciocarlia.
Do you travel to Israel to work in studios there, or do you do everything in your studio in England?
I do everything in my studio in London. I haven’t been to Israel, because of the corona, since February 2018. That’s the longest. My mom was here in August. So I haven’t seen my mom in a year.
How did you hook up with Fanfare Ciocarlia?
I got a phone call from my brother. He was listening to their album, and he said, “I think Fanfare are playing one of your songs.” I said, “No, it can’t be.” But he forwarded it to me, and they did play one of my compositions that was released on Tzadik. It’s track one of my first album on Tzadik, Dance of the Idiots, “Saints and Dates.” They call it, in Romanian, “Hora Evreiasca,” which means, “the Jewish Hora.” Evreiasca means Jewish in Romanian. I speak a bit of Romanian. I had a manager at the time, and he contacted the Fanfare management, which is also Asphalt Tango Records. He said that they didn’t know, they thought it was traditional music. We agreed about royalties, and blah blah blah. Then my brother said, “Don’t ask for royalties, ask them to release your next album.” So that’s what I did, and they loved what I do. It was different, because they usually pick mainstream world music, and I am not that. I told them that I have this album that is a concept album. It is blues and Balkan, and I see a great connection. That’s where I show my love for Led Zeppelin and Romanian music, and they released it [Blues From Elsewhere]. A few years ago, they asked me if I wanted to contribute one song for Fanfare. They asked all the artists on the label to do that. My brother told me, “Listen, you are going to write the whole album for them now, not only one song.” I did it, and they loved it all. They released it, and now I am doing the second album. It is all by chance, nothing was planned.
What did you do? Did you send them a demo with you playing all the instruments, and they learned it up?
I record it with MIDI. I use two tubas and eight horns. I use whatever they use, and they learn it and play it.
What’s their music considered? Gypsy? Romanian?
It’s Romanian Gypsy brass music. There are so many regions in Romania and in every region there are slightly different styles. The brass style is different from the accordion style, and this is Romanian brass music. The Serbians and the Macedonian have brass music as well, but I think the Romanian brass is the best.
Are there subtle differences between the different styles?
Yeah, for instance, the Gypsy style is Bulgarian. The Bulgarian style is one of the most incredible musics on the planet. It’s so complex and beautiful, and it is totally different from Romanian music, or Turkish music, or Serbian music. You can distinguish the styles by the instrumentation. The Bulgarian style will never use certain instruments, and the Romanian style won’t use certain instruments. Also the style, the trills are different, the phrasing is different.
Klezmer comes from that world as well. What distinguishes it? How is it different from Gypsy or Bulgarian music?
I have a friend who says that klezmer is gypsy music played sloppily. There is some truth to that. Klezmer is much simpler. It’s what the Jews did, and it’s also what the gypsies did. Everywhere they settled, they took the local music, and they either gypsy-size it, or they circumcise it. I am not a great fan of Klezmer, never was. I love some clarinet, I think Giora Feidman is great. But it’s not for me.
You mentioned earlier that you’re getting out of world music. What’s your focus now?
Now, I am doing something really weird. It’s kind of metal, kind of symphonic, and there is also a bit of world music. It’s hard to describe. There is some electronica and a lot of electronics. I am a big classical music fan as well. Massive. I am teaching myself now how to do proper string arrangements and stuff like that. The next album is shaping up. I released one song on YouTube, called, “Utopia,” and that’s going to be the style of the new album more or less. It’s heavy and electronic and very dark.
You do commercial work as well, like some films, and a Coke ad, too.
Yeah, the Coke ad was amazing, it saved my year last year. That’s thanks to Fanfare Ciocarlia. The performance is by Fanfare, and I wrote the music. It’s not like I wrote special music for it, Coke picked a song. But I also did two feature movies, and I did a few short films.
Do you approach film or TV scoring the same way you record albums?
No, because you have to create a mood with the music, but without the music taking over too much. It’s very restrictive, but it’s an art form. I am not saying that I am great, but since I started recording music, people always say, “Your music is so cinematic.” It is very visual, so I’ve been writing for film. It’s a great job for me, but it doesn’t come easy, and I was never involved in a massive Hollywood production, for instance. Writing for films is something that I used to love doing. But it’s a world that is very hard to get into, and I am not a very pushy person.
Do you have to be very aggressive in that world?
I am not a hipster and I don’t have a beard.
Photos: Top, by Giora Hirsch; with tuba player Oren Marshall, courtesy of Koby Israelite
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