Posts Tagged ‘Debbie Friedman’

The Jewish Music Manifesto

Thursday, March 1st, 2012

by Sam Glaser

The Beginning

Shlomo Carlebach and Debbie Friedman started something big. Much like the Internet freed visionaries to rip away the barriers of industry, these two composers wrote music from their hearts and delivered it directly to the people. They didn’t go to a conservatory to get degrees in composition. Nor did they spend six years at a cantorial school. They heard music in their heads, translated it for the world to access with simple guitar chords and sweet, non-operatic voices, and hit the road to any venue open to their spiritual message.

Their music was not klezmer, the schizophrenic happy/sad party music of the Ashkenazi old world. Nor was it weighty like cantorial and choral works by Louis Lewandowski or Ernest Bloch. It didn’t poke fun at tradition or lament shtetl life like Yiddish Theater or Allan Sherman. It wasn’t yet another repackaging of the Israeli hits born from the legacy of war. This was genuine American Jewish music, made for the people, by the people, with its roots in the radical belief that Judaism is a religion of life and celebration. North American Contemporary Jewish Music (CJM) transcends the burden of the Holocaust and pogroms. It is the music of a people born on the wings of eagles to a land that has offered themunprecedented tranquility, success and freedom. It is the music of a profound and unprecedented byproduct of the 20th century: the optimistic Jew.

Thousands of young Jews flocked to Shlomo and Debbie concerts and memorized their songs. Over the decades, the very institutions that mocked or discarded these seminal figures eventually found themselves enraptured by their melodies. Their music captured the ebullient mood of the youth and of course the youth grew to positions of power and made CJM normative. Young Jewish musicians, myself included, saw them in the limelight and realized, “YES…this is what we want to do!” This generation included the likes of Craig Taubman, Julie Silver, Dan Nichols and Rick Recht, groups like Kol Beseder, Safam and the Moshav Band. These artists were compelled to create recorded music that exceeded the production quality of their mentors while carrying the same message of the spirit. Their success has led to exponentially more composers in the now up-and-coming generation, who are creating innovative music that combines the best of hip hop, folk, rock and jazz with clever beat boxing, looping and generous helpings of studio magic.

Good News

Today this renaissance has created a music market that is bursting at the seams. Many of the countless Jewish albums released every year are audiophile quality; whereas 20 years ago most Jewish albums were poorly produced, nowadays the majority are comparable with any releases in the secular world. Among the Jewish music industry summits are such conferences as NewCAJE, Hava Nashira and the Reform Biennial where songwriters perform their latest and jam late into the night. Soundswrite, a Jewish music distributor now under the auspices of the Union for Reform Judaism markets nearly 400

CD titles on its website; Mostly Music, associated with the Orthodox movement, carries the work of over 1300 different artists. Just last week the annual Song Leader Boot Camp offered three full days of training in the art form to over 90 young singers and composers. The main CJM online outlet,, boasts nearly 4000 songs available for download, not to mention the availability of the matching sheet music. “Jefe, would you say we have a plethora?”

Shrinking Resources

While the music business at large is suffering globally, Jewish music has its unique tzuris (pain.) Like all musicians, we generally pay our bills by virtue of our live bookings and sales of our music. After four years in the current recession we see that cultural arts events are often the disposable item on most synagogue and JCC budgets. Shuls nationwide are merging, most are cutting “extra” clergy like cantors and songleaders, and the transmission of the arts is falling into the hands of whichever parent volunteer can play guitar or wield a paintbrush. Our precious Jewish children are growing up without an awareness of their cultural history, their repertoire of music is stunted and access to active Jewish musical role models is increasingly limited. And that’s for the kids who ARE affiliated, who actually show up to the synagogue once in a while and attend Jewish summer camps.

A primary issue with the industry as a whole is the shocking abandonment of the physical delivery of music by consumers under 30 years old. Many young listeners do not even own CD players and have never paid for music. Their ipods hold thousands of songs “gifted” from friends or “found” on the Internet. It’s a great era to be a music consumer and a lousy one to be a provider. Over the past decade, brick and mortar record shops have disappeared with awesome rapidity. In the Jewish world, this trend is manifest in the disappearance of Judaica stores, and for the hearty survivors, an ever-shrinking music department. There are very few Jewish music distribution companies left and those that are still fighting the battle are finding that the profits are so low that it’s easier to walk away than sell their beleaguered enterprises.  This trend does not make the creation of quality new Jewish music less important.

Our silver lining in CJM is the possibility for widespread dissemination of our music and message via outlets like iTunes, YouTube, Twitter, Facebook and Spotify. Like never before we can get the word out about new projects, share behind the scenes adventures and concert footage with fans, and we no longer have to endure the tyranny of record labels or distributors dictating our marketing moves. That said, of the above outlets, only iTunes pays. My “day gig” is producing albums for a wide variety of clients. I used to tell them that they only had to sell about 1500 CDs to break even on production costs. That was based on the $15 per album that they could typically charge audiences after a concert, a goal that the average working musician could fathom. With iTunes, the breakeven point jumps to nearly 50,000 singles that must be sold. The new model has emasculated the long form album, the beloved collections that gave singers a dozen songs to make their artistic statements. Spotify, the rising star of subscription services, referred to as the “iTunes killer,” pays the artist .3 cents per listen. I shudder to do the math.


Sorry about the grim outlook. I have some ideas to brighten the future. My plan is to unite around an existing arts-focused non-profit and create The Contemporary Jewish Music Association, or something like that with a better sounding acronym. I will locate like-minded, deep-pocketed individuals who appreciate the musical gifts of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach and Debbie Friedman and the revolutions that they inspired. These will be benefactors that understand that in addition to supporting hospitals and the hungry, we need to keep our greatest cultural aspirations alive. Under a single umbrella we will create a collection of entities that will lift the profile of CJM by providing publicity, enhance composing, recording and performance opportunities for artists and allow for unprecedented recognition for accomplishments. I plan to be the CEO, my wife will be CFO and we’ll hire a Jewish music loving Ivy League MBA as our COO. Overhead will be minimized and accountability and transparency will be top-notch. I beleive the effect on the Jewish world will be nothing short of radical, transforming it from an afterthought to a bonafide industry alongside our Christian music counterparts.

(See February 2012 Newsletter sidebar for my wish list of the initial twelve branches.)

I like to dream big. I’ve been doing so since the age of seven when I started writing songs about global issues and facing mortality. When I was twelve I started preparing for my Bar Mitzvah. I joined our Sinai Temple Shachrit Choir, studied Torah andHaftorah trope with our organist Aryell Cohen, and mastered Mussaf with Cantor Joe Gole who took me under his wing. I had to learn the portions both for my LA ceremony and the one that followed a few weeks later at the holy Western Wall. One night my mom recognized my accomplishments in that short period of time. She came into my bedroom as I negotiated our ancient texts and said, “Sammy, if you keep pursuing your goals like you did this year, there is nothing that will stop you.” Thanks Mom…I’ve been a workaholic ever since.

It’s tempting to walk away from the music business at this point. Most of my peers have done so. My guitarist recently said to me, “I’m just glad that I got to be alive when it was possible to make a living as a working musician.” The problem is that I have learned to love this small, underfunded CJM genre. I have all my eggs in this fragile basket. It’s not enough to help CJM to survive; I believe the Jewish world needs it to thrive. Rabbi Natan Lopez Cardozo teaches that the great King Chizkiyahu was supposed to become Mashiach and put an end to the suffering of the Jewish people. But he couldn’t sing and therefore couldn’t inspire his offspring. “There is no future to Jewish learning and Judaism without a song and a smile.”

Music unifies a disparate group like nothing else. In my opinion, meaningful, well-produced Contemporary Jewish Music is the most powerful expression of our people. Last week during his LA visit, the Chief Rabbi of the UK, Lord Jonathan Sacks told me, “Sam, more than we need sermons, we need your music to unite our people. You have the unique ability to take what has been and breathe new life into it. While Torah always stays the same, music must change. We need your new music, your shir chadash, to keep Judaism alive.” Chief Rabbi used two songs that I recorded in for his “Israel at 60” anniversary album that was given to over 260,000 families throughout Europe. He’s a powerful fan. I only reached him because I was invited to play a high profile UK event. I got that gig from performing at a US based event of an organization that sadly went bankrupt on the heels of the 2008 recession. If I were new on the scene today, I doubt I would have had the chance to make an impression. I’m so grateful that I’ve had the fortune to release over twenty CDs of the music of my dreams and travel to fifty cities a year singing that music for happy audiences. I think the next generation of talented Jewish musicians deserves the same opportunity.

Most of you are thinking…Sam is living in Fantasyland. Not true…I much prefer Tomorrowland. My friends, millions of dollars are given away by Jewish benefactors everyday.  We just need one. Theodore Herzl said “If you will it, it is no dream,” and look where that got him!  Thanks to Shlomo and Debbie for the music, for striving against all odds, for giving us a career and a dream.


Wednesday, August 24th, 2011

by Sam Glaser

I recently returned from the NewCAJE conference, the nascent incarnation of the Coalition for Advancement in Jewish Education.  We gathered at the American Hebrew Academy campus in sunny and steamy Greensboro, NC for five days of celebration, study and connection.  I offered an hour and a half workshop everyday and had

newcajethe rare gift of speaking about spiritual subjects close to my heart to students who were attentive and hungry for the information.  I enjoyed the chance to hear both the veterans in Jewish music perform in addition to sampling the hot, upcoming talent.  I went to amazing lectures, relished in stories from master storytellers and listened in wonderment to a fifty-voice choir that formed over the course of the conference.  And every night, from midnight till 3am, the musician insomniacs gathered in a “kumzitz mafia” jam session of outrageous proportions.

My own concert was on closing night.  I can’t describe the feeling of performing to an audience that already knows every lyric of my songs.  I asked to keep the houselights up so that I could reflect the joy visible on the faces of those whom I’ve grown to love, who have supported me onsamNchicksthis twenty-year odyssey as a Jewish composer. These are the community leaders who have rallied to bring me to their congregations, who cherish my CDs, who share my music with everyone they know.  Many of them met me when I was single and have followed my life through my engagement, marriage and rollercoaster experience as the father of three.  Scarcely a CAJE meal goes by without my having to break out pictures of the family.

It was at my first CAJE in 1992 that I met Debbie Friedman.  I had sung her songs since I was a kid at camp and now I had the chance to share the stage with her.  It just as well could have been Paul McCartney.  Well, almost. That year Julie Silver and I were the new artists debuting on the big USC stage. Just before my set the power went out and I had to sing my new Hineni song for 2000 people a capella. Concert organizers Craig Taubman and Doug Cotler pushed me out on the stage. Later Julie shared her gorgeous Sim Shalom.  I gave out my four-song demo cassette to everyone I met and started samNDebgetting invitations to perform out of town. Amazing! This year NewCAJE gave me a taste of new artists Noah Aronson and Max Jared, among others, about whom I will rave and support in their journeys.

At any given CAJE conference many of the presenters are neophytes in their field. But what other chances will they have to hone their craft in such a loving, forgiving milieu?  Veteran educators like the holy Rav Yosef Liebowitz come every year because CAJE-niks are among his best market for the distance learning that he offers from his home in Israel.  Judaica and booksellers flock to merchandise at the expo, attracted by a captive audience of dedicated Jews who will share the wares with friends back home.  I’m confident that Joel Grishaver wouldn’t have such a flourishing Torah Aura publishing company if not for CAJE, Nancy Katz wouldn’t be covering the country in painted silk and Bruce David’s amazing stained glass wouldn’t grace so many sanctuaries.

Something unique about this conference is its emphasis on pluralism.  Reform, Conservative and Orthodox learn, dine and sing together under one roof.  For most it’s the ONLY time they might witness such harmony and tolerance.  Ethics of the Fathers reminds us that a wise person is one who learns from everyone.  Only at CAJE do I really see this precept in full bloom.  CAJE is nothing less than the potential of a world redeemed. Everyone is a bit uncomfortable and everyone grows.  Girls in short shorts are confronted by the long coated mikvah man.  Orthodox rabbis become unwilling members of a flash mob that breaks out in the dining hall.  It’s easy to say in the comfort of one’s own movement that “we are all in this together.”  But CAJE isn’t the Biennial or OU conference.  It’s a true spiritual coalition, where all the colorful members of the tribe have something to add.

I have performed and taught at this conference some nineteen times.  CAJE has become a benchmark in my year, the start of my post-summer touring season and a good excuse to finish new recordings. Traditionally, upwards of 1500 educators, rabbis, cantors, composers, storytellers and artists meet at a roving series of university campuses for this special week of sharing, learning and song.  Perhaps the most compelling reason samNsingersthat they return is the camaraderie.  There is no price tag one can put on belonging to such an esteemed, generous family.  Tragically, teachers are usually on the low end of the socio-economic totem pole.  The individuals that we empower to bring the newest generations into the fold can barely afford to live in the neighborhoods of the synagogues they serve.  CAJE gives these righteous individuals a chance to stand up and be recognized and appreciated.  It’s renewing, refreshing and rewarding.  Some chastise the organization and say it’s nothing more than Jewish summer camp. But if summer camp is the “great white hope” for our kids, then why can’t the teachers of our students have their moment in the sun?

Now I’m going to get on my soapbox.  In March of 2009 CAJE went bankrupt.  It was half a million dollars in debt and still the international Jewish community let it fail.  True, this was in the aftermath of economic meltdown and Madoff.  Yes, there was too much overhead and they should have screamed louder for help.But for a statistically infinitesimal percentage of the total given to Jewish causes, CAJE could have been revived.  Individual benefactors sponsor operas, wings of University buildings and MRI machines for much more.  Who will take a stand for Jewish education?  Where are our heroes?

NewCAJE emerged out of the ashes last year. Thanks to the gumption of CAJE veterans like Cherie Koller-Fox, the conference is wobbling on new legs.  Recently Cherie was overjoyed that a $9000 matching grant was established. She’s counting on underpaid teachers to come up with funds to keep this dream alive.  My friends, NewCAJE needs $900,000 to make this happen. $9,000?  Oy!  Where are the Jewish Federations of North America?  How about a national Bureau of Jewish Education percentage of funds to this cause?  Most teachers used to have a source of funds from their synagogue or day school for annual enrichment programs.  Professional development is a cost of doing business!  This must be reinstituted so more teachers can attend. Jewish benefactors of universities need to come forward and cover the conference costs at their home institutions.  Giving opportunities for wealthy individuals abound, with naming rights!  For example, subsidizing the young leadership program, college program, new teacher recognition, veteran teacher awards, childcare, evening entertainment, fine arts.

I finished my NewCAJE concert with a rendition of Debbie Friedman’s moving Tfilat Haderech. It’s the very song that I sang with my fellow musicians at her gravesite after everyone else had left the funeral.  It’s the song I chose to sing at the Los Angeles commemoration of her Shloshim.  It will be the only “cover tune” on my next Jewish CD.  I brought with me the brand new instrumental tracks that I had just recorded with my band and set up some high quality stereo mics to record the NewCAJE audience on an endless series of tearful “amens” at the conclusion of the song.  Please listen to the track.  Hear the love shared by this amazing group of teachers.  Hear how much we miss our Debbie.  Hear how much we need and support each other.  Hear how much we need your help to spread the word.  Thanks for listening.

Losing Debbie

Friday, January 28th, 2011

by Sam Glaser

Limmud sounded like a good idea this year.  This revolutionary British organization was celebrating its 30th anniversary and Debbie Friedman and I were among those honored to be invited.  Limmud is the foremost conference worldwide for lay people of all denominations to spend a week engrossed in Torah study and Jewish culture.  Some 2500 Yidden show up annually to the University of Warwick, England during the last week of the year.  The explosive growth of this grass-roots phenomenon has now spread to forty cities worldwide.  I have performed at US, UK and Australian versions of the conference and love the chance to see Jewish unity fully lived rather than merely theoretical.  When Chanukah is “early,” it is generally safe for me to fill the week of Xmas with this conference since my Chanukah tour is over mid-month.

What I didn’t anticipate was the fact that my November and December would be booked to the hilt.  Twenty cities in two months is enough to make any grown man ardently long for his family, bed and favorite toilet.  I had a three-day turnaround in LA after an east coast swing and then I boarded a ten-hour transatlantic flight.  British Airways sold every seat on the 747.  Luck would have it that I was seated next to an oversized filmmaker from Brussels named Michael Goldstein.  Large world, well managed…we hit it off and spoke of the opportunities in Jewish life for hours until he fell asleep on my shoulder.  Needless to say, I arrived exhausted in frozen England the day after a four-day blizzard shut down Heathrow.  An endless array of white patchwork fields spilled into cobalt blue seas as we descended over the United Kingdom.  Once on the ground we had a two hour wait for a two hour bus ride. I took solace in the fact that at least I’d be able to spend some quality time with Debbie.

What made this whirlwind week different from other conferences I’ve done with Debbie was the fact that she didn’t have “handlers.” Usually there are protective, mothering fans that smother her with affection and ensure that she doesn’t overdo it.  This time, Debbie was totally in the mix.  Teaching, singing in the ad hoc choir, performing and hanging out at the inevitable late night jams until the wee hours.  Several nights in a row, literally past three in the morning, insomniac musicians huddled in a circle with a dozen guitars, dumbeks, tambourines and iphone pianos and sang every Jewish, Beatles, Cat Stevens, Stevie Wonder and Carole King song we could think of.  Thanks to the miracle of ubiquitous internet access, anytime we couldn’t remember the lyrics, someone was always ready with a PDA linked to the right words.  Often I am thrust into a leadership role at these kumzitzes in order to manage segues and land in ideal singing keys.  At Limmud, however, the leadership was shared by a dozen songleading masters…sometimes Debbie would start something and then calling the next tune would pass organically to another person.  We enjoyed an unspoken clarity on when the exact time transpired to move onto something new and over a four hour period covered just about every genre known to Western Man.

Debbie GtrDebbie’s last official concert was everything that we fans wanted.  All the hits, the crowd singing at the top of our lungs, tears aplenty at her epic ballads. Her voice was frail but she still hit the notes.  Her humor was spontaneous and spot on and of course her trademark issues with guitar tuning created several classic improvised moments.  Our beloved EJ Cohen was there to interpret both of our shows with her flowing, artful bi-lingual sign language.  Debbie asked that no one video, photograph or facebook about the show.  Just to be present, to be with her.  Of course she sang Misheberach for us and then us for her.  Little did we know.

The next night Debbie came to my concert with a black eye.  She was walking with a tortured gait and had slipped on the ice. Interesting that when it slips below freezing, London Fog turns into icy mist, coating the sidewalks with a treacherous layer of thin ice.  Hearing the British audiences sing along with my songs with a cockney accent was a true highlight.  It’s been said that accent doesn’t carry through in singing.  Wrong again!  After my show I managed to sell nearly all my CDs and then hung out at the mosh pit of a bar scene with the young folks.  I saw Debbie sitting there alone and available.  I promise that this never would have happened at any of the 17 CAJE conferences I did with her.  I sat down on the steps beside her and we spoke of new projects and her tale of woe caring for her ailing mother and the scarcity of gigs.  I didn’t realize that she had moved to Southern California a few months earlier to be close to her ima, and I was happy at the prospect that we might be able to spend some time together.

Over two thousand people enjoyed a star studded closing gala featuring an amazing ad hoc choir assembled over the course of the week.  Following my Hineni song, conductor extraordinaire, Stephen Glass, presented a moving tribute to Limmud, sung by the choir and featuring Debbie and me on the opening verses.  I held her hand throughout and at the end of our portion of the song she gave me a warm, beautiful, maternal smile that I will never forget.  We were often called upon to do these programs; at the GA conference, CAJE and Halleli at the Gibson Amphitheater.  I realize that we make an odd couple for a number of reasons.  But we are truly singing the same song, with the same goal of getting our fellow Jew invested in a relationship with a loving God.

I flew home after a full week of near all-nighters, singing until my voice was like sandpaper, teaching every day, and too many experiments with the eclectic beers on tap.  Thrashed is the best word I can think of.  A friend at my first Shabbas meal back in LA suggested I do a full week liver cleanse and I took him up on it.  No carbohydrates, soda, caffeine, Advil, meat, booze, etc.  I usually can power out my work after my kids go to bed.  I found myself exhausted at ten pm.  If this trip to the ice planet Hoth took such a toll on me, imagine what it did to my delicate friend Debbie.  She contracted serious pneumonia and didn’t have the resources to fight it.  The entire Jewish world (at least the non-Orthodox affiliated segment) held prayer vigils and sing-along’s to appeal to the Creator of the Universe to give Debbie another chance.  But this was to be her time.  The shocking news sent chills down my spine. Jerry Kaye’s Facebook post uttered the impossible simply and finally.

Heartbreak.  Tears.  Shock.  Disbelief.  Sadness.  Then all of them over again and all together.  The letters, condolences and memories poured in on Facebook, Hanashir Listserve and email.  I called many of my Jewish musician peers just to hear their voices and get perspective.  I was slammed in the studio that week and it was so hard to focus on anything.  I posted this at the height of my grief:

“I’m broken hearted. Our dear friend, mentor and spiritual ima has left the world. I can’t imagine what a beautiful, holy place she is in right now. How many of us did she touch with her sweetness, with her direct channel to God’s music. I will always sing for her and with her wherever I go.  Every thing I do I think, wow… Debbie can’t do that now.  I’m stoic and then crying again.  I just tried to explain to my kids which songs she wrote that they know and then broke down again.  I’m still not sure what losing Debbie means.  I don’t think any of us know. OK.  I’m crying again.  We lost her in Parshat Beshalach, Shabbat Shira.  She’s dancing with Miryam. No question. The seas are parting.  She opened up the sea for us Jewish musicians.  She showed us our potential.  She showed us how to open up the hearts of our audiences to hear God’s music.  How the concert or song session was not about us singing, but about lifting the spirits of everyone in the room, getting them to sing, to feel and connect. Last week I got to sing with her, to hold her hand, see her smile.  What a gift.”

I tried to figure out why I was so affected.  Debbie and I saw each other just a few times a year.  We came from different worlds, different coasts, different theologies.  She often made jokes about my move to Orthodoxy.  The only people who like to check if I am wearing tzitzit are one of my Aish rabbis, Craig Taubman and Debbie Friedman.  I realized that the core of my mourning was the feeling of the loss of a mentor.  Debbie was one of the few artists that worked at her Jewish music full time without a day gig.   When I was trying so hard to break into the business with my first album, she had 8 CDs in the Tara Music’s top 50.  She showed me what was possible in my life.  Moreover, she used her position to create opportunities for other composers and songleaders.  She was the master and we were her students.  She proved to us that there were no barriers to entry; not gender, sexual preference, handicap or level of education.  What mattered most was talent and tenacity and getting yourself out of the way so that God could speak through you.

I remember my second CAJE conference in 1993 when Debbie was leading a final jam session the last night.  I was thinking, “this kumbaya nonsense has got to stop!  It’s time to rock!”  Yes, I was rash and impetuous, and over the years I learned the magic of her soothing music and the power of its simplicity.  Like a great Shlomo Carlebach tune, Debbie’s songs grab you immediately and stick in your head, resurfacing every time you are innocently eating a latkeh, planting a tree or teaching the aleph-bet.

A few years ago I was in Debbie’s Manhattan apartment hanging out and making music.  She has an amazing piano and we sang and shmoozed and spoke of hopes and fears.  Even brilliant Debbie could feel vulnerable and question if she was making a difference.  I told her that I was living on the edge…three kids in private school and a considerable mortgage riding on the back of a sole wage earner musician dad.  That all my relatives thought I was nuts for choosing my field.  She said, “Sam, if times are ever tight and you need help, I will be there for you.  I will give you half of the money I get in my gigs to help you out.”  I laughed at her gesture and she looked at me with dire seriousness.  “Sam, I’m not kidding.  You need to be doing what you are doing.  And I will be there when you call on me.”

I sobbed throughout her funeral.  It’s the music that really gets to me.  Every song had me reaching for more kleenex.  Of course I wanted to be one of those chosen to sing.  But I’m not sure I could have found my voice through the tears.  Seeing the Collings guitar that I had played the week before on top of her casket was so shocking.  We had to be reminded that this ceremony was not for the musicians or the Reform movement, it was really for her immediate family that was grieving in the front row.  The audience was a who’s who in Jewish music.  Sad that it took the loss of a peer to get us together.

More moving was the graveside service.  A thousand people came to the memorial but only a few hundred drove to the internment.  The Jewish custom of the mourners filling in the grave is so perfect.  We bury our dead.  It’s so final and real.  We sang her songs as we shoveled.  I cried with her mother and her dear sister.  They were a real team and now they had lost their captain.  We comforted the mourners and then everybody left.  Except the musicians.  No one told us to stay.  I can only speak for myself.  I couldn’t leave her.  I just stood their crying, contemplating the world without her, focusing on the moment so that I could perceive her liberated neshama and not get pulled into a petty conversation.  When I came to, I looked around and I saw a dozen of my fellow musicians standing in random places on the grass in the golden light of the setting sun.  Wordlessly, we all started coming into a circle around her kever.  We joined hands, swayed and sobbed.  Wow.

As I drove home I felt a powerful determination sweep over me.  Not to settle for mediocrity in my life, in my career.  To force open the gates of possibility for Jewish music and the Jewish people.  To reach our non-Jewish friends with the gift of our message of hope, prayer and sanctity.  Mortality came sweeping down on my complacency like a tidal wave.  How many years do I have left to change the world?  To sing, perform, record, travel?  My twenty-one CDs have been a defense against feelings of insignificance.  But it’s not enough to put out albums.  I must use music as a stepping stone to take a stand for all Jewish people and our allies.  I must open the financial barriers that limit our expression, that stifle this renaissance.  Music is a gateway to transcendence and unity between nations.  Debbie Friedman started the fire and I must inspire my peers to turn this flame into a conflagration.

Debbie, thank you for setting the stage, for taking the lead, for teaching us, for striving through your pain and suffering to continue to inspire us.  Thanks for tolerating me and loving me.  Thanks for your amazing songs that have changed the world.    Most importantly, thanks for singing with me and being my friend.  I miss you so much.