Rock to the infectious reggae beat. Dark lights. The guitar riffs and rhythmic bongo build momentum. The crowd starts boogeying, and the spotlight opens on stage. Hey, what’s a rabbi doing up there? Instead of Rastafarian dreadlocks, his tzitzis are swaying!

When he opens up and lets loose his stuff, you know you’re in the right place. This phenomenon is Matisyahu Miller, a talented Chasidic reggae songwriter and singer, who is breaking down barriers and bringing his fiery sensitive spiritual vision and beat-box sound to new audiences and venues.

Cory Sterling, an enthralled McGill University writer, heard Matisyahu perform. “Perhaps the most unique aspect of the concert was the atmosphere. It seemed, if only for two hours, the tight-knit Cabaret was transformed into a spiritual spacecraft navigated by Matisyahu's energy and message. This incredible feeling was acknowledged by the show's captain when he declared: “It's cold outside, but real warm in here.”

Matisyahu's performance was priceless. His resonant and colorful voice is smooth, covering infinite tonal ranges in seconds. His lyrics speak of spirituality, love, and faith.”

Raised in White Plains, N.Y., Matthew Miller’s suburban upbringing had only a smattering of Jewish tradition. He resisted the boring Hebrew school hours and was frequently threatened with expulsion for disrupting the lesson.

Singing was always part of his life, and by his teens, Miller was taken with Bob Marley and reggae. “Music spoke to me before I became religious," the mellifluous-voiced artist says. "Music was my religion, so to say. Everywhere I went, I wore headphones. I saw the world in the view of whatever CD was playing at the time."

By 14, Matthew slid comfortably into the laid-back teenage hippie lifestyle. In with the "Deadhead" crowd, he grew dreadlocks and wore his Birkenstocks all winter long. He played his bongos in the lunchroom and learned how to beat-box in the back of class. By 11th grade, Matthew couldn't ignore the void in his life. After nearly burning down his chemistry class, he set off on a camping trip to Colorado. The awe-inspiring Rocky Mountains were the backdrop for Matthew’s introspection and contemplation. In this spiritual arousal our hero had an eye-opening realization: there is a G-d.

His spiritual curiosity piqued, Matthew took his first trip to Israel. He felt a stronger connection to the spark of G-d than he had felt in Colorado, and enjoyed praying, exploring, and dancing in Jerusalem. Every nook seemed to stir his dormant Jewish identity into consciousness.

Leaving Israel proved difficult. Back in White Plains, Matthew didn't know how to maintain his new Jewish spirituality. Dejected, he dropped out of high school and followed the Phish on a national tour.

After a few months he returned home, burnt out and broke. His parents insisted that he straighten himself out at a wilderness school in Bend, Oregon. The school encouraged artistic pursuits and Matthew delved further into his music, studying reggae and hip-hop. He attended a weekly open-mike where he rapped, sang, beat-boxed, and started to develop his unique reggae-hip hop sound.

After two years, 19-year old Matthew returned home with more stability and direction. He moved to the city to attend the New School where he continued honing his musical craft, and dabbled in theater. He happened on the Upper West Side Carlebach Shul, with its hippie-friendly vibe and exuberant singing turning him on to the mystical power of Chasidic song. Now, instead of beat boxing in the back of the classroom, his reunion with Judaism led him to leave the classroom to pray on the school's roof.

While at the New School, Matthew wrote a play entitled "Echad" (One) about a boy who meets an inspiring Chasidic rabbi in Washington Square Park. Matthew’s life imitated his art– soon after the play’s performance he met Dov Yonah Korn, Chabad rabbi of the Washington Square Park area and a kindred soul. Dov Yonah and his wife Sara also started their spiritual journey as Dead Heads and Phish fans. The Korns helped the searching rapper hook up with the mystical Chasidic teachings and helped him evolve from Matthew to Matisyahu.

Once skeptical of authority and rules, Matisyahu explored the Lubavitch lifestyle and liked the discipline and structure.

"I went from newbie to Chasidic in six months," Matisyahu laughs. "You grapple with the idea of the Torah as the will of G-d. In the past my idea of connecting with G-d was going to a Phish concert."

Chabad philosophy surrounded Matisyahu with the spiritual dialogue and intellectual challenge he had sought. The turmoil and frustration of his search subsided. Matisyahu and his wife now live in Crown Heights, and he splits his time between the stage and his yeshiva.

For some artists, the meaning is in the ambiguity and seeking, the quest, the angst. Has Matisyahu’s music lost its honesty and punch now that he’s firmly ensconced on the Torah path?

Mattishyahu feels he was always looking for a higher truth. He finds that his musical punch hasn’t dissipated, rather his mode of delivery has upgraded since replacing loose loafing around.

"I always had a conscious spiritual message, but my language has changed," he said. " Before, it was definitely a less refined sound."

Rappers and hip-hop artists convey their feelings in a stark and direct manner. How does Mattisyahu maintain his hip-hop credentials without reverting to his former persona?

"There's less ego to what I do now. I try to paint a picture with poetry. I may have seen a chasidic guy praying at the kotel and somehow related that to something in Manhattan. It's more desc

riptive now. The melodies are not Jewish music," he offered. "But my songs have Jewish images."

Blending the sounds of Bob Marley and Shlomo Carlebach with his original touch, Matisyahu's performance is an uplifting, powerful experience. His audiences are inspired by his ability to honestly convey delicate topics like faith and spirituality. His dedication to his belief and openness to others lead even the cynical to respect his artistry and message. There’s a magic in the concerts, a fleeting moment when skepticism melts and souls open up, and Matisyahu is there, with his booming sound of faith.

Described as ‘a languid sound of poetic dance-hall grooves,’ Matisyahu’s album, “Shake off the dust...Arise!” shares his creative vision.

"The inspiration for this album came from this process I've been on for 10 years, discovering myself and discovering spirituality, and how everything relates," he says.

"What a painter wants to achieve when he paints a picture – he has a vision or way of seeing something. He relates to it emotionally or intellectually, and then he wants to express that. Same with Arise. I have a way of seeing and feeling the world and I express it through music."