Scantily clad women writhing to the beat are part of the formula for almost any music video, but rapper Shyne prefers to see women more modestly attired, preferably with their arms and hair covered.
That might make him a minority of one in the rap world, but as a black Orthodox Jew who comfortably sports an outfit that has its basis in 19th-century eastern Europe, Shyne has no qualms about being different.
He can lay claim to at least three names: his rap moniker Shyne, his birth name Jamal Michael Barrow, and the name he now uses to introduce himself to admirers in the Jewish quarter of Jerusalem’s Old City — Moses Levi.
Photo: AFP
And he happily mixes the patois of the Brooklyn streets with the language of the Torah, interchanging phrases like “You dig?” with Jewish terminology: “Hashem,” meaning God, and Shomer Shabbas,” for the observance of Shabbat.
He might seem like a walking contradiction, but Shyne could be charting himself a highly unusual path back into the music business, 10 years after it seemed his short-lived but promising rap career was over.
In 1999, he was the protege of superstar rapper Sean Combs, better known then as Puff Daddy.
The pair were at a nightclub with Combs’ then girlfriend Jennifer Lopez when Shyne spotted some people he was convinced were there to hurt him.
“Somebody was trying to kill me, Combs and Jennifer Lopez, so I gotta defend myself,” he said.
“I had a gun because, 30 days before that, I was going to the studio and I got shot at ... and once somebody shot at me in front of the studio, I went and got a gun, that’s the only way I know.”
In the retelling, with Shyne wearing the religious garb preferred by Orthodox Jews, including a knitted skullcap, short trousers, and a pinstriped overcoat, the story seems almost unlikely.
But at the time, the incident made headlines around the world, and while Combs was acquitted of any violence, Shyne ended up with a 10-year prison sentence for assault, gun possession, and reckless endangerment.
In the nightclub gunfight, he was accused of firing directly at people, although he denied this and said he shot in the air.
He admits feeling some bitterness, particularly as he was already religious at the time, praying and fasting, though without a specific framework.
“I said to myself, why I am in prison, why me, why not the other guy? I pray all the time, I’m fasting,” he said.
But he came to see the time as a chance to learn more about Judaism, inspired by the Biblical stories his grandmother had told him.
“I was always praying to the God my grandmother taught me about, which is the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses... all those Biblical heroes.”
Gradually he became an observant Jew, keeping kosher, observing the Sabbath and wearing a skullcap for his daily prayers.
It was an unconventional turn of events for a man with an already unusual past, born out of wedlock in Belize to a mother who moved him to Brooklyn, New York, away from his father Dean Barrow, now Belize’s prime minister.
But he liked the structure and confidence his newfound religious framework provided, and upon his release from prison opted to come to Israel to study the faith further and resume his recording career.
Most days he can be found praying or studying at a yeshiva — a gender-segregated religious school.
The quiet, all-male environment is a far cry from his pre-prison days, when he sang expletive-laden tunes about “slinging in the streets” as amply endowed women in denim hot pants shimmied around him.
But his new music has not been scrubbed of references to his old life, and he isn’t following in the footsteps of Orthodox reggae sensation Matisyahu.
“I’m not making Torah raps, I love Matisyahu, I think he’s a great singer, but I’m not making Hasidic rap, I’m still talking about poor people in Brooklyn.”
And despite his religious garb, which Orthodox Jews wear as a nod to humility, Shyne wears Ray-Ban sunglasses, a gold watch and drops references to shoe designer Christian Louboutin in a new song.
With his move to Israel, he is trying to understand the political situation, although he admits he finds it “very complicated.”
“I pray that there’s a Palestinian state,” he says. “I definitely don’t like anybody trying to strap a bomb to themselves ... But at the same time I don’t believe women and children should starve and suffer.
“It’s complicated, it’s very complicated. This is not a black and white question, so all I can do is pray.”
March 24 to March 30 When Yang Bing-yi (楊秉彝) needed a name for his new cooking oil shop in 1958, he first thought of honoring his previous employer, Heng Tai Fung (恆泰豐). The owner, Wang Yi-fu (王伊夫), had taken care of him over the previous 10 years, shortly after the native of Shanxi Province arrived in Taiwan in 1948 as a penniless 21 year old. His oil supplier was called Din Mei (鼎美), so he simply combined the names. Over the next decade, Yang and his wife Lai Pen-mei (賴盆妹) built up a booming business delivering oil to shops and
Indigenous Truku doctor Yuci (Bokeh Kosang), who resents his father for forcing him to learn their traditional way of life, clashes head to head in this film with his younger brother Siring (Umin Boya), who just wants to live off the land like his ancestors did. Hunter Brothers (獵人兄弟) opens with Yuci as the man of the hour as the village celebrates him getting into medical school, but then his father (Nolay Piho) wakes the brothers up in the middle of the night to go hunting. Siring is eager, but Yuci isn’t. Their mother (Ibix Buyang) begs her husband to let
The Taipei Times last week reported that the Control Yuan said it had been “left with no choice” but to ask the Constitutional Court to rule on the constitutionality of the central government budget, which left it without a budget. Lost in the outrage over the cuts to defense and to the Constitutional Court were the cuts to the Control Yuan, whose operating budget was slashed by 96 percent. It is unable even to pay its utility bills, and in the press conference it convened on the issue, said that its department directors were paying out of pocket for gasoline
For the past century, Changhua has existed in Taichung’s shadow. These days, Changhua City has a population of 223,000, compared to well over two million for the urban core of Taichung. For most of the 1684-1895 period, when Taiwan belonged to the Qing Empire, the position was reversed. Changhua County covered much of what’s now Taichung and even part of modern-day Miaoli County. This prominence is why the county seat has one of Taiwan’s most impressive Confucius temples (founded in 1726) and appeals strongly to history enthusiasts. This article looks at a trio of shrines in Changhua City that few sightseers visit.
RSS