I felt that in order to get the blessing, to be able to be a musician, to be successful, and to make a living at it, which was all I ever wanted, that I needed to give it up first, that I needed to let go of it.

And if I could let go of it, then maybe God would give it back to me.

Find out how this ever evolving artist managed to blend his faith and his music to become the world's first Hasidic reggae superstar.

Tonight on the A-list, I get to know recording artist Matisyahu.

When Matisyahu released his first album in 2004, he was received as something of a musical oddity and something similar.

[music playing] After all, it's not every day you come across a Hasidic reggae artist rapping and beatbox, sing his way around the stage, complete with full beard and flat brimmed black hat.

Even so, his success seemed to happen almost overnight, and suddenly this musical oddity was selling out clubs across the nation and developing a wide range of fans outside of the insular community in which he grew up.

Over the years, he's evolved musically, spiritually and even physically.

And I got the chance to sit down with this unique artist before his show at Track 29 in Chattanooga.

Young In this century, to strike up a fun that still matters.

Welcome to the A-list.

Thanks for joining.

Us.

Thank you.

Tell me about your childhood.

As a kid, I was into music.

I loved music.

I listened to music in the house.

My parents had good taste in music.

They're kind of hippie, so they had music playing all the time.

Most influential records as a young kid were Michael Jackson Thriller, and then the records being played around the house.

Paul Simon, Graceland.

And then when I was about 13, 14, I heard I was into acting.

I was in choruses and stuff like that.

The big thing for me when I was a kid was there were two courses.

My school was sort of about half and a half, black and white, and there was a sort of like the white course in the black course.

And when I was in about fourth or fifth grade, I decided to join the Black chorus Cultural Horizon.

So it was called, and I was in plays, I was in musicals, but I never really liked them, but I liked performing.

I like being on stage.

So when I was about 15, 16, I got into an acting program of both his acting program at SUNY Purchase, and that was special for me.

I was on my real love for acting came about not just being on a stage and performing, but actual, more like the art of it.

And around that time, 14 or so, I started listening to reggae music.

I got into Bob Marley.

What was it about reggae music that that really drew you to it?

It's hard to answer that question.

That's like trying to answer a question like why?

Why does a person like the color blue or like the color red?

It's a it's an instinctual thing, an intuitive thing.

Why?

Why person likes one type of music over another type.

But one of the one of the besides the music, which I enjoyed, the actual music, which I liked, the the intriguing thing to me at that age was the like the references within the Old Testament, the references to Old Testament, which I went to Hebrew school as a kid.

I went to public school about a couple of times a week after public school.

I went to Hebrew school and in Hebrew school I never connected or found the relevance of the Torah.

And it really wasn't until listening to Bob Marley and probably the album Exodus that I started to all of a sudden hear ideas and quotations and words that I had heard in Hebrew school that I knew I had some kind of connection with in terms of my heritage.

But I didn't understand necessarily why what the connection was or why Rastafarian or reggae music was connected with the Old Testament.

So that was what initially started my intrigue or interest into the Old Testament and into trying to understand more about my own heritage.

And it's foretelling that music was what drew Matisyahu to his faith and started him on the path to self-discovery that would unknowingly turn him into a superstar.

Before he became Matisyahu, he was Matthew Miller, a rebellious teenager who resisted the rules and confines of both school and his Jewish upbringing.

But a couple of months in Israel with a school trip brought everything into focus for this troubled kid searching for a place to belong.

Chopping down from the top down.

Chopping down.

So when did that evolve into you?

Really getting into your faith and going to Israel and really going from being mostly a secular reconstructionist Jew to something of a more dedicated orthodox nature?

Well, I would say there was never an evolution.

It was a process that there was an evolution, but there was sort of when I was 16, I went to Israel on a trip where I spent three or four months in a school there during the fall semester of high school, junior year of high school, and that was the time when I really started to gain interest in or sort of broaden my perspective in terms of Judaism, because I was introduced to a different form and multiple forms of Judaism were what being Jewish could be as opposed to what it what it meant for me growing up.

But then I didn't really become religious until I was 21.

I was in college at the New School, and at that time I really just that's when I took on the rules.

I started to really that's when I started to really identify publicly as a Jew wearing a yarmulke and with a beard, and.

And then that same year, I started visiting different neighborhoods in Brooklyn and then ended up staying basically.

What did your parents think of this transformation?

They they didn't really you know, I mean, I guess what did they say?

What did they think?

They they probably they were nervous.

They were a little bit unsure of what I was doing, what I was going through.

They knew that I was a kid that had struggled through my teenage years and in my early twenties with with different issues and identity and and things so that, you know, they they assumed I was trying to find a way out, trying to find something to latch on to, to to, to, to connect to, I guess.

But they didn't necessarily understand what, what, what was the I don't know what was the attraction to me to to Hasidim to Hasidic lifestyle.

Was that the impetus, though, trying to find that connection?

The impetus was that I believed in God and I and I, I wanted to to create a relationship that for for most of my life, I felt somewhat alone, that I was looking for some kind of spiritual connection.

And I wasn't finding a connection always with people.

And, and, and and so I looked I started to look towards God to find that connection.

And at that point, at 21 or so, I had tried music and I had tried drugs and I had tried, you know, different things, school and all of that.

And I felt the way for me to to really break through my myself and to to to find that spirituality or that thing that artists oftentimes are looking for.

I felt that I needed to become something else, that I needed to become like a new being.

And I decided to look towards Judaism for that because I knew that I was Jewish and I knew that there was something rich and there was something spiritual and that my ancestors, I wanted to connect to something ancient, to something beyond beyond the here and now.

And as Matisyahu explored his faith, he was simultaneously honing his musical and lyrical skills, inherently blending his two passions together to create a style that was completely unique and personal.

But the young artists still had a long journey of self-discovery ahead before he could devote his life to fulfilling his dreams.

My mama.

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo.

Tell me about the transformation from really being Matthew Miller to Matisyahu!

And also how your song King Without a Crown related that journey.

Well, I took on the name Matisyahu in my Hebrew name when I became religious around 21 or so, and I moved to Crown Heights and I spent time in yeshiva there about a year.

I spent about two years there.

But for the first year I didn't listen to any music.

There's a period in the Jewish calendar, a mourning period where religious Jews don't listen to music for a couple of months.

And after that period, I never really started listening to music again.

I tried to focus myself on a part of myself that I hadn't really worked on for most of my life, which was following rules and studying and I sat in that yeshiva from basically, you know, 7:00 in the morning till 9:00 at night studying Torah with, you know, a break here or there, and then slept in the yeshiva and woke up the next day and did it again, the routine of that.

And then then it's started started like maybe at a shabbas at the table.

At shabbas I sang something or and while people were singing, maybe I started beatboxing or something or making up little raps.

And people realized that I had some talent and they asked me to do a perform there at a at a I like a reunion of sorts that they were having at the yeshiva.

And so I put together a rag team group of guys from the neighborhood and we performed and someone saw me at that performance and his daughter was getting married the next day in Baltimore, and he said, I'll give you, you know, $300 if I don't know what it was, $100.

If you come and you and you perform, sing a song at my daughter's wedding.

And that's kind of how it started.

Once I started getting gigs, which would like a be a perm gig or a Hanukkah gig or a gig for the teen center at the Hubbard in Crown Heights, I called up my friend Aaron, who's not Jewish, not religious, just, you know, musician, and he helped me put together a few guys and I had a few hundred bucks that I could pay them each a little bit.

And that was how that first band came together.

And I went to Philadelphia on a Friday, and I recorded a song there with a producer that I had met in when I was in college.

And that first song that I wrote and we made was King Without a Crown, And there was an early version of it, but that was when King Without a Crown was born.

And that summer I went to the Catskills with the Yeshiva.

We'd leave Brooklyn and we'd go to the Catskills and we'd spend two months.

And anyway, that summer, the only music that I had was that one song that I had recorded.

And every now and then I would slip away from the yeshiva and take a walk.

And that was before iPods.

I'd have my Discman and I put my blank disc in, and I listened to that song and I would remember my dream, you know, I remember my destiny and what I felt was my destiny.

And I knew that at some point I was going to I was going to I was going to come back come back to that.

But that and I felt that in order to get the blessing, to be able to be a musician, to be successful and to make a living at it, which was all I ever wanted, that I needed to give it up first, that I needed to let go of it.

And if I could let go of it, then maybe God would give it back to me if I could put God first, so to say so that was when King without a Crown was born.

And then, you know, and then went from there.

For Matisyahu, music and religion seemed linked from the beginning, but within the confines of his chosen faith, pursuing a career as a performer was not without its challenges and delivers on keeping it until it is this strong.

So how did you find that balance?

I could imagine that the rabbi he worked with or the rabbis that you knew maybe weren't too excited that here you are with the long beard and and you're sitting in the long black jacket and you're performing on a stage.

Did that contradict what they were trying to teach you in yeshiva, or did you feel like there was a balance there that you could achieve and convince them otherwise?

Well, initially it was there was no stage.

It was me just drinking vodka with the guys and then getting up on the table and belting out some reggae song or something.

And people in the yeshiva being like, floored.

Like, you know, what is that?

And taken by it.

And, you know, they really saw that I was talented.

Now there were two rabbis that I was close to at that time.

One of them was in my what's called a be a he's sort of like the one of the guys that runs the yeshiva who sort of looks out for the welfare, the emotional welfare of the of the students.

He was a very sweet guy and he he basically when the first gig came along, the first gig in a club came along and I asked if I could leave that night to go into Manhattan to perform at a club.

He basically backed me up and he said, you know, don't wear your glasses, you know, so you won't see, you know, the women and stuff.

And after it had happened two or three times, he said, you need to get married if you're going to do this, because you know you're not going to survive in the sex, drugs and rock and roll.

And a wife will keep you so keep, you know, locked down.

And but he he he was he was supportive of me and and they they saw that I was promoting their ideology.

So they got behind it.

You know, he did At least then there was another rabbi that I who that I was enamored with at the time and he was telling me, no, you can't do it.

There's no way you can be Hasidic and do this.

And there was a time during that period where I, I convinced myself that I was not going to do it.

But, you know, luckily that didn't last long and I moved beyond that.

So those initial days were like or like people were just coming to the shows.

I mean, I had there was a little promotion.

No one had ever heard of me, but yet I was selling out like little clubs on prom on Hanukkah in Brooklyn, non-religious Jews coming.

And an agent saw that and saw that I was making money at it, got behind us, booked me my first tour.

I got married.

I got my wife pregnant.

I bought a van.

I went on tour for five months.

While I was on tour, I signed a record deal.

They got me on some festivals.

I sat in with my with, you know, Trey from Phish, who I had dropped out of high school to hitchhike around the country and follow.

I sang a Bob Marley song on stage with him in front of 50,000 people and then.

And at Bonnaroo, right down the street.

Yeah, right here in Tennessee.

That's right.

And so, you know, it all started here for me.

And then and then before I knew it, that record was selling 30, 40,000 copies a week.

And and I was sitting with I was I think I was and I was sitting with Donny Eisner at Epic Records and hearing him say, okay, we're going to push the button now, you know, and that was how it started.

Maybe if it seems like a whirlwind success, that's because it was since 2004.

Matisyahu has released four studio albums, along with two wildly successful live albums he's worked with Some of the biggest names in the business topped Billboard charts and received Grammy nominations.

But success does come with a price.

And as the spotlight found Matisyahu, he was opened up to the scrutiny that comes with it.

But like any artist, he's constantly seeking ways to grow and evolve.

And the next step in his journey shocked fans across the world.

The sky, God wings like a dove.

So let's talk about the next major transformation, which was really a physical one, but I assume also spiritual.

December 2011 you tweet a picture of yourself fully shaving haircut as the story goes.

You went to the Supercuts on the Upper West Side and you say to your fans, among other things, Sorry, folks, all you get is me no alias.

You know, this is this is who I am.

Yeah, well, ten years I took that the path of Orthodox Judaism and and it it it changed and transformed throughout that time.

I mean, it wasn't always the same.

I started learning about there's, there's tons of different sex within Hasidim I explored in depth.

I mean, at first it was Kobad.

That wasn't the only way.

That's what I was taught.

That's what I was told was there is one way, even within Orthodox Judaism, with even within societies, and there's really one truth.

And I put the blindfolds on and I went with it, and then I broke out of that and I started studying other types of Hasidim.

I, I explored in depth the whole or a lot of the Hasidic world and transformed within that.

And then and then I started to let go of certain things even then.

But, but I still felt like I have to really conform to these rules that, that the reason I'm not experiencing godliness or happiness or light or whatever it is, the reason I'm sort of trapped in myself is because I haven't gone all the way.

I haven't really I haven't really taken them out.

And there were moments there were moments in prayer where there was what's called the VIX, which is connection of binding yourself to God.

There were moments of elation.

There were moments of joy.

But in general, there was sort of a cloud and sort of sort of hovering and and I just felt if I if I keep working at it, I'll get there.

And something happened to me over the past year that I began to feel light come in.

I began to feel the cloud sort of go away, things open up and I realized that I can do what I want to do, that that that the rules, the rules are there, hopefully to help guide you, to help to help move you closer to God.

But they can be oppressive.

And the second I made the decision, I remember like like you said, I was on the Upper West Side and I was walking and I just something clicked in me and I just I just said, I can do what I want to do.

I can be who I want.

I can do whatever it is that I want.

If I want to shave my beard, I can do it.

And I just felt this sort of weight drop off of me and things started to happen for me creatively, emotionally.

I just felt I felt myself began to open up and and then with that, I decided I'm going to shave, you know?

I mean, I love the beard.

There's elements of having a beard that I love.

And then I missed seeing my face in the mirror, you know, And I just said, I'm going to go for it.

You know, I'm going to do it, you know?

So your newest album, Spark Seeker, it's really encapsulates this whole this whole transformation this year to about the inside being more important than the outside.

Was that impor Yeah, Yeah.

I mean, the album the album was written before for the most part, before I shaved.

But, you know, and it's funny because, you know, I've been growing, I've been evolving, but it, you know, when I look at the lyrics now, after what I've been through in the past year, it just seems to totally connect with everything that I've done.

And I don't even know.

The way I wrote this record was.

Stream of Conscious is other records that I spent a lot of time crafting lyrics out, but this record was stream of conscious and, you know, I hadn't made that big transformation yet when I wrote these songs, but they seem to they seem to make total sense with with what I've gone through.

So you've gone through all these transformations spiritually, physically, like anyone does in life.

But at this point, what do you hold on to that is sacred.

What?

What about you?

Will you not change?

To me, change is sacred.

Thats perfect.

I wanted to share it with you real quick.

I don't really bring notes with me, but I found this.

I was doing so much research on you.

I just.

You know, you feel like you know somebody.

I know we haven't met until right now, but especially hearing, you know, listening to your album a lot, the newest album and listening to One day for years, I found this quote by Golda Meir.

It may speak to you.

I hope it does, but trust yourself.

Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life makes the most of your self by fanning the tiny inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.

That's beautiful.

That's for you.

Thank you so I have one more question.

Yeah.

My sister is a huge fan as well.

I try to get her to come up from Atlanta and she also loves, as I do, beatboxing and we always wish to be beatboxer is that we're just not.

Could you teach me how to beatbox?

Teach you how to.

Show me how to do it?

I'll try.

I don't want to.

I don't want to disrespect you and do it, you know, So there's no fun.

There's three.

I mean, you could start with three.

The three sounds of a drum kit.

That's what you're mimicking is a drum drum set.

So the kick drum is right.

Okay.

Then there's the high hat, which is right.

And this one is no one gets is the snare drum.

That's hard.

So if you put it together, you try that.

Oh, gosh.

Oh.

I got to sound like a 1950s washing machine.

Okay.

And then I'll do a fast one for.

I can't do that.

But.

Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm.

There you have it.

Nice.

Thank you Matisse, for being on the show The art of the beatbox