Live Review: Yiddish Twist Orchestra at the Apex

By Karen Harradine

In the vast and airy yet strangely intimate Apex Theater in Bury St Edmunds the audience gathered around tables scattered in front of the stage, nursed their drinks and waited expectantly for the Yiddish Twist Orchestra to start. The band did so by exploding onto the stage exactly on time. Combining notes of calypso and mambo, country and western twangs, the rolling harmonies of steel bands and the intense melodic sounds of Jewish folk tunes, YTO gave an electrifying and energising performance all the way through, with a pervading sense of cool that echoed the hazy vibe of 1950’s London jazz clubs.

The band mixed up the play list with instrumental numbers and songs, accompanied by lead singer Natty Bo, who sang lyrics with a rich, deep and smoky baritone. In allegiance to his name, Natty Bo was dressed in a white coat and tails complete with a fur hat perched jauntily to one side of his head, which added to his captivating style and swagger. The chic, well-heeled audience, the kind one sees at classical music concerts in upmarket Suffolk halls, did not have to be asked twice by a charming Natty Bo to get up and dance.
Occasionally, the wordless melodies of the brass instruments sounded so uncannily like a myriad of Yiddish mamas and papas lamenting and singing together about loss and love and unity, that I had to remind myself that these were the sounds of musical instruments being played with passionate perfection and not those of human voices. The Yiddish in songs like Meshuganah Mambo and Shake Your Tuchas gave the lyrics a great sense of fun.
A highlight for me was a hauntingly beautiful rendition of Avinu Malkeinu. This searing familiar spiritual lament of pain, hope and salvation was transformed by the alchemy of calypso, mambo and Yiddish melodies. It was a revelation of sound that took me back to my childhood years and touched my soul.
For the finale Natty Bo sung a dynamic and hilarious ode to the bagel, complete with tossing several of these Jewish doughy breads to some very happy audience members. Throughout the concert and especially with this song, grey haired matrons, who would not look out of place in a jam competition at the Women’s Institute, fiercely bobbed and jived like teenagers and elderly men in flat caps, stalwarts of middle England, danced as though their feet were on fire.
By the end of the evening I had enjoyed this gig so much that I immediately wanted to pack my bags, become their groupie and follow them from one exhilarating performance to another.