Thinking of places sporting huge Jewish populations, one most likely doesn’t immediately settle upon India as a destination for the people in diaspora. It is though. And over the last three to four hundred years, there’s been a steady influx of Jews after encountering discrimination in other places or finding that the country they once called home was in the throngs of revolution headed by politicos not necessarily engaged with modern concepts of equality.

For whatever reason, Jews in India since the eighteenth century haven’t experienced any sort of discrimination. Embracing an Indian identity, though, has probably helped over time. With this sort of assimilation, though, it might be assumed that Jewish culture has been subverted by dominant ideas of personality and dominant social traits. In some cases that might be true, but it seems that there’s a large and vibrant community that’s been thriving for centuries. As an extension of that, over time, there’ve been various recordings made, not of ceremonies, but of performances rendered by Indian Jews. Some are reworked prayers and some devotional. But each is couched in an Eastern mode of music. Collected by Jewish Records, Shir Hodu asserts a religious independence, but one that’s inextricably linked to an identity culled from nationalism.

It’s an interesting confluence of culture and a good listen.

If one’s anticipating some odd Klezmer sounds – the Jewish equivalent of Polka, let’s say – then this disc is not one that needs further exploration. None of that genre is found here. Instead, it wouldn’t be too difficult to get an ear full of this stuff and figure it for traditional Indian music. Granted, the percussion elements included here aren’t as prevalent as in Indian classical music, but do serve to inform the song’s rhythms.

The work of three men specifically are covered on this set: Simeon Jacob Kharilker, Adib David, Zaky Solomon Isaac and Zaky Solomon Isaac. Even in the performers’ names, there’re obvious biblical references while still remaining distinctly Indian.

But the first two performers come off as slightly more polished than Isaac, which approximates the tone and feeling of any number of field recordings from the United States’ rural south.

The marriage of this culture and this faith is significant in the promulgation of religion.

There’re probably more than a few prayers that I’ve not recognized, but Kharilker turns in a rendition of “Hatikvah,” Israel’s national anthem, which uses the traditional melody, but still sounds spiced up enough to be traditionally Indian in scope. And that’s what makes the disc worth hearing. It’s a group of religious adherents understanding its past through a modern conception of self.