What inspired the title 'New York Psycho Freylekhs' for the track on your album Rhythm + Jews, and what does it reflect about the band’s identity or the song’s vibe?

“New York Psycho Freylekhs is really just The Klezmatics playing good klezmer party music. Freylekhs, which means happy or joyful, is a type of Jewish dance. At the time, we were criticized—or perhaps complimented—as being a bunch of crazy, gay New York Jews, "New York Psycho Freylekhs" people. We said, "Great, you're trying to insult us, but we're going to embrace this because we have so much love and energy as crazy New York gay Jewish klezmer musicians." That's the story of why we called it New York Psycho Freylekhs.”
Frank London


In the annals of contemporary klezmer revivalism, few tracks capture the effervescent alchemy of tradition and innovation quite like "NY Psycho Freylekhs," the propulsive opener—technically the second cut—on The Klezmatics' seminal 1993 release Rhythm + Jews. This Flying Fish outing, a cornerstone of American world music, fuses the raw, emotive contours of Eastern European Jewish folk with the syncopated swagger of jazz-inflected rhythms, Latin undercurrents, and a broader global tapestry that renders klezmer not as relic, but as a living, breathing organism. Hailing from the United States, the ensemble—anchored by clarinetist David Krakauer, trumpeter Frank London, violinist Alicia Svigals, and vocalist/accordionist Lorin Sklamberg—channels the ghosts of 1920s pioneers like Naftule Brandwein into a sonic whirlwind that demands both contemplation and unbridled movement.

At its core, "NY Psycho Freylekhs" is a freylekhs in the truest sense: a buoyant dance form evoking joyous abandon, its title a cheeky nod to the neurotic pulse of New York life reimagined through hassidic melody lines and American blue notes. The arrangement erupts with raucous enthusiasm, propelled by a rhythm section of bass and drums that injects rhythmic punch and percussive flair, while horns—led by London's cornet flourishes—and saxophone-like clarinet flourishes weave through strings and accordion in a tapestry of interplay. Largely instrumental, with fleeting male vocal interjections that add a layer of narrative intimacy, the track eschews overt lyricism for thematic undercurrents of communal ritual and fleeting romance, allowing the music itself to narrate tales of resilience and revelry.

What elevates this piece to transcendent heights is its mood: a kaleidoscope of bright confidence and playful positivity, laced with upbeat fervor that feels both fun and reflective, happy yet romantically wistful. Listeners are swept into a vortex of fast-fingered virtuosity—Krakauer's clarinet dancing like a dervish over Licht's inexorable drum drive—evoking the feverish energy of a Lower East Side wedding hall circa 1993, where klezmer's wailing joy collides with jazz's improvisational spark and Latin percussion's subtle sway. It's pure Lebensfreude, a sonic manifesto that reaffirms The Klezmatics' prowess in bridging worlds, turning a simple dance tune into a manifesto for cultural hybridity.

Three decades on, "NY Psycho Freylekhs" remains a clarion call for those seeking the klezmer idiom's boundless potential: confident, upbeat, and unapologetically alive. In an era of fragmented genres, it stands as a beacon of unfiltered exuberance, inviting us to twirl amid the chaos.