In late April, The Cedar’s Sr. Box Office and Development Operations Manager MJ Gilmore sat down for a Zoom interview with the emotive and storied Ethiopian-Israeli musician Gili Yalo in advance of his forthcoming show at The Cedar on June 1! MJ was joined by Abreham Tsegaye and Jote Mulat — owners of Café Jote, an Ethiopian coffee shop just a block away from The Cedar. Faysal Abraham, former Cedar Operations Director, also stopped in for the interview.
Calling in from sunny Los Angeles, Gili shared vivid details of his life through this interview. He talked about the story of his name, the first cover he ever did, and the significance of his return to Minneapolis.
“...sharing this magnificent culture of Ethiopian people to the world. Me, as an Ethiopian Jew, I am trying to bring this mixture between all of who I am, my DNA and what I do. It is beautiful that I am coming to The Cedar. ”
“Selam” by Gili Yalo. Video Courtesy of Gili Yalo’s Official YouTube Channel.
Gili Yalo in Los Angeles during our interview.
Abreham Tsegaye and Jote Mulat at Café Jote in Minneapolis during our interview.
Abreham: Your name, Gili, is it an Amharic name? I know that you were born in Ethiopia. Can you tell us about your name? (you can click here for a video of this question and answer)
Gili: As you know in Ethiopia, we have several Ethiopian names. My mother called me one name and my grandfather called me a different name. Actually, my original name is Tadesse.
Abreham: That is also my name. Everybody knows my mom as Tadesse’s mom.
“The translation of Gili is “happiness.” ”
Gili: Oh, we have the same name! It is a beautiful name! It means renew, which is beautiful of course, and I have another name Gete (my jewel). Both of these names are in Amharic. When I came to Israel (Operation Moses), because they wanted us to join the Israeli society in a fast way, they thought it would be wise to call us Hebrew names, so most of us got a Hebrew name—this was in 1984 or 1985.
So, the small amount of what I remember is that they actually offered us names without us even knowing what they mean. Somehow when I heard the name Gili, I said, “I want this.” I was a kid. This is what my parents told me that I said, “I want this name.” So I chose this name for when I go out to Israeli society. I called myself Gili, and everybody used to call me Gili, but when I came back home to my family, I had this private name my parents called me—Tadesse. Which was nice, because when I came back home, I understood I was in a different environment, in my personal space, because the name Tadesse is very personal for me, but Gili is a stage name. The translation of Gili is “happiness.”
Jote and Abreham: Oh, that's wonderful!
“I have come to realize that names are the meaning that you give to them—the way you feel about it. So, Tadesse for me is personal. It’s my mother and my father who called me Tadesse, and my family when I am coming home, they are calling me Tadesse. When I go outside I will wear this mask or this different character, which is like a stage character, and it is Gili. ”
Gili: So, a lot of people ask me, why I don’t go back to my mother’s name, or my father’s name–my original name. I was wondering about it a lot. I was thinking that maybe they are right, but from the other side, my sister has a name called Asresashign (name means you caused me to forget something). I was talking with her about our names. I told her you call yourself in Israel the name Efrat, and she told me, “Yes, I prefer Efrat.” Suddenly, I found my sister telling me the opposite thing. She likes the name Efrat. I asked her, “Why is that?” She told me our parent’s first kid passed away when he was five years old in Ethiopia. They called her Asresashign to make them forget about the first kid, and my sister said, “I don’t want this name. I don’t want when they call me Asresashign to remember that they lost their first kid.”
So, I have come to realize that names are the meaning that you give to them—the way you feel about it. So, Tadesse for me is personal. It’s my mother and my father who called me Tadesse, and my family when I am coming home, they are calling me Tadesse. When I go outside I will wear this mask or this different character, which is like a stage character, and it is Gili. I kept the name, and for now, I am really pleased I kept the name Gili, but I always come to thinking that maybe one time in the future, I will change it to Tadesse.
Abreham: Many actors and actresses change their name to a stage name, which is easier to understand for a world audience.
Gili: Teddy Afro. Is Afro his true last name, or no, it's a stage name?
Jote and Abreham: Kassahun.
Gili: Tewodros Kassahun.
Abreham: Tewodros Kassahun is his real name.
Abreham: I understand that you are Ethiopian, you are speaking Amharic, and singing in Amharic, but your name is different, that is why I asked you this question about your name.
“...music is life for me, so I am trying to bring my DNA to the music.”
Abreham: You are singing in Amharic, English and in Hebrew. Do you think many Ethiopians know who you are? Do you promote yourself as an Ethiopian singer?
Gili: First of all, when I went to Ethiopia, I was very surprised, because they broadcasted my videos on Ethiopian T.V. I was shocked and I loved it— I was really surprised. I don’t think I’m this popular singer who sings traditional Ethiopian music, because I am not. I wasn’t raised in Ethiopia. I was born in Ethiopia and my roots are from Ethiopia, but during the years, I heard western music as well. So I cannot be like Mahmoud Ahmed whom I admire, or Tilahun Gessesse whom I admire, or Teddy Afro whom I admire. I can be myself, which means I am trying to bring my life—you know, music is life for me, so I am trying to bring my DNA to the music. In the beginning, I started singing religious Jewish songs in Hebrew—it was back when I was nine years old. I started my professional career at a very early age, and I got lucky—music took me everywhere in the world.
At the age of nine, I started to fly all over the world and perform in Hebrew. Then I grew up a little bit and I was very confused. You are always confused by your identity when you are in a foreign country. My house was very Ethiopian, and when I went outside, it was totally different, so I was looking for role models. Back then, as far as role models, we couldn’t see Ethiopian musicians on T.V. in Israel, and there was no internet. When I was looking for role models, I was looking for someone who looks like me—Black people. I was drawn into the reggae scene. The Jamaican people really admired our culture. Once I saw that they accept the Ethiopian culture, I was drawn into the reggae scene, so I started to sing Bob Marley in the beginning. I was at a very young age—I was twelve. Without understanding exactly the words, I would sing Bob Marley, “I want to love you, and treat you right, every day and every night.” That is how I started singing in English.
“My house was very Ethiopian, and when I went outside, it was totally different, so I was looking for role models.”
Abreham: I heard in one of your interviews that you were in a band.
“At the age of 25, I was in this reggae band. I used to sing in English. I had some racist experiences in Israel, and I was asking myself, “Who am I?” I then felt if here I don’t feel I belong, I need to understand where I belong, and I began exploring my Ethiopian roots. In the beginning, I explored my Ethiopian roots through music, because music for me is the best way to connect with something that I really love. ”
Gili: Yes, a reggae band. When I was a teenager, I heard a lot of hip hop and a lot of funk. I was singing in English, and I was absolutely sure my career would be in English–that was absolutely for sure for me, but once I continued with the music, I really got into this crisis in asking myself, “Who am I in this world and what is my identity?” Especially when you feel racism—I have felt racism in my life, this is not a secret. Once I felt racism—in a very strong way, I asked myself, “Do I belong to this society?” Not all people, but a small amount of people were racist against me. It made me ask a lot of questions. This is what brought me back to my Ethiopian culture. When I was a kid, I really escaped my identity and didn’t want to be Ethiopian. I didn’t want to eat Ethiopian food and I didn’t want to dress Ethiopian. Even when my mother came to school and she was dressed in the bahel (culture)—I was like, “Oh, no, mom, maybe you should put on some fashionable thing.”
At the age of 25, I was in this reggae band. I used to sing in English. I had some racist experiences in Israel, and I was asking myself, “Who am I?” I then felt if here I don’t feel I belong, I need to understand where I belong, and I began exploring my Ethiopian roots. In the beginning, I explored my Ethiopian roots through music, because music for me is the best way to connect with something that I really love. At my house, there was Ethiopian music, but I never really listened to it. I liked reggae and hip hop, but at that point, I had an identity crisis, and once I started to listen to the Ethiopian music and Tigrayan, Oromo, Gurage, I was so shocked with how the music was so good— I didn’t really listen to it when I was younger.
“I started to sing this song when I was on stage, and I was really shocked how the crowd reacted. The crowd was really into it, and they weren’t Ethiopian people–they were Israeli people, or people from Europe who didn’t understand the words, didn’t understand what I was saying, they just got drawn into the groove and the energy. I then I did something that I had never done before, I danced with my shoulders. I never imagined in my life that I would do that on stage. ”
So, I started to do covers of Ethiopian musicians. The first cover I did was Muluken Melesse, “Tenesh Kelbe Lay.” I started to sing this song when I was on stage, and I was really shocked how the crowd reacted. The crowd was really into it, and they weren’t Ethiopian people–they were Israeli people, or people from Europe who didn’t understand the words, didn’t understand what I was saying, they just got drawn into the groove and the energy. I then did something that I had never done before, I danced with my shoulders. I never imagined in my life that I would do that on stage. My mother, when she heard I was singing in Amharic, she couldn’t believe it. She said, “How come you know Amharic?”
Once I really wanted to understand Ethiopian music, the words came into my ear. If people talked to me in Amharic, it was much more difficult than hearing the music. With music, I understood exactly the words they were saying, but when I was talking to people, I suddenly would get stressed. So this is the journey I have been through with music. Today, I am making my own kind of music–which means it is such influenced music–a fusion between Ethiopian music, jazz, funk, reggae–which makes me very unique in my kind of genre. I think my kind of genre is very unique, and I think Ethiopians like my music, but I don’t think the majority of the Ethiopian people really know me—and I understand. I cannot expect everyone to love me, because if everyone loves me in my music, then I am probably doing something wrong. That’s the way I feel about it.
Gili Yalo. Photo by Lily Davey Gurion.
Abreham: Do you promote your music to Ethiopians? Your music is very nice and interesting—you are singing in Guragigna and Amharic. You upgrade the melody of Mahmoud Ahmed’s music. I like it! You are promoting Ethiopia—our language and our music.
Gili: Thank you.
Abreham: You were born in Gonder, am I correct?
Gili: Yes.
Abreham: You came from Tewodros’ country. I hope you know Emperor Tewodros?
Gili: I know, of course.
Abreham: The best Ethiopian musicians came from Gonder.
Gili: I didn’t know that!
Abreham: Why haven’t you sung songs from Gonder–where you were born?
“...another secret, which I am telling you right now, is in my next album, which most of it will be in Amharic, I am going to do my own version to the song Emama Gondor. ”
Gili: That is a really good question. I will answer your two questions. When you talk about promotion, you are probably right. It is very hard to promote your music everywhere in the world. I am promoting right now mostly in Europe, United States and Israel. In Ethiopia, I have this idea in the future to make collaborations with Ethiopian musicians—which I haven’t done yet. It will be really beautiful to try to write lyrics and compose songs with them, and I think it is its own project—I am waiting to do it. I think I will do it very soon in the near future. It is one of my dreams and I hope to get there and to do that.
And for your second question, another secret, which I am telling you right now, is in my next album, which most of it will be in Amharic, I am going to do my own version to the song Emama Gondor. I also plan to create a song about Tewodros’ Country.
Abreham: This is good news for us!
Gili: Thank you very much.
Abreham: Thank you.
Gili: Jote, do you have any questions for me?
Jote (speaking in Amharic): My question is similar to Abreham’s question. We like your music very much. We are wondering if you will be able to promote your music more to Ethiopians?
“I am Ethiopian. I am proud of my identity.”
Gili (speaking in Amharic): Thank you very much. When I hear this kind of suggestion from Ethiopians, I am inspired and encouraged, because before I started speaking in Amharic, I was scared–I wondered how I could sing in Amharic. I was scared of making a mistake in Amharic, but on social media I was hearing that people loved hearing me sing in Amharic! This makes me very happy and encourages me to keep singing in Amharic. I am Ethiopian. I am proud of my identity. It makes me proud and happy when Ethiopians come to my concerts–it elevates the energy! Ethiopian culture is known all over the world. At my shows, I try to share my Ethiopian culture through my music and stories. My sister and relatives give me books in Amharic, so I can learn more about my Ethiopian roots and culture. My roots are Amharic, like air, and because of this, Ethiopia is in my heart and soul.
Jote: We are very happy and proud you will be here, because you are Ethiopian and represent Ethiopia.
Abreham: We can’t wait for your show at The Cedar Cultural Center on June 1st—we’ll see you here!
“...sharing this magnificent culture of Ethiopian people to the world. Me, as an Ethiopian Jew, I am trying to bring this mixture between all of who I am, my DNA and what I do. It is beautiful that I am coming to The Cedar. The last time I was there, I saw a very big community of immigrants—which I really love. I was hanging around after the show to talk with people and to understand this beautiful Minneapolis, because I travel a lot in the United States, and I haven’t seen this kind of place that has so many colors within a very small neighborhood—which is beautiful.”
Gili: Thank you very much. Please really try to bring Ethiopian people to the show—it makes me really, really happy to see them dancing with me, Eskista, and sharing this magnificent culture of Ethiopian people to the world. Me, as an Ethiopian Jew, I am trying to bring this mixture between all of who I am, my DNA and what I do. It is beautiful that I am coming to The Cedar. The last time I was there, I saw a very big community of immigrants—which I really love. I was hanging around after the show to talk with people and to understand this beautiful Minneapolis, because I travel a lot in the United States, and I haven’t seen this kind of place that has so many colors within a very small neighborhood—which is beautiful.
Abreham: Yes, there are many Ethiopians and ethnic groups, as you said, especially Oromo, Amahara, Tigray and Somali. Especially, if you can include one song in Oromiffa like from the singer Tilahun Gessesse.
Gili: I can do this one: “Shole Ya Nechi Tela”! I know this song, it is a beautiful song.
Jote and Abreham: We are so happy to meet you!
Gili: I am so happy to see you, really, so happy to see you!
Jote and Abreham: You are promoting Ethiopia the country and Ethiopian music—we are proud! Thank you very much.
Gili: Thank you very much.
The Cedar’s former Operations Director Faysal Abraham at Café Jote.
Faysal: I was so moved with your story. I am also a refugee. My family came to the U.S. from different parts. Your story about singing music as you crossed the desert with your family when you were a child, and with your situation going into Israel and now, is there music that can help heal what you are going through where your new homeland is?
“The purpose of this song is just to remind us all that every time there is a darkness, after the darkness, there comes a light. This is very important to tell people, because once you get into the darkness, you are forgetting that at the end of the tunnel, there is always a light. The song was released actually a month ago and now it is playing on the radio, which I am really, really happy about. So hopefully people will listen to the words and try to find inspiration with these words.
”
Gili: I am singing in three languages. Mostly I am singing in Amarigna and English. For the last two years, I have been trying to make my first album in Hebrew. I am trying to bring the color of Ethiopia with the Hebrew language—which is very hard to find—I have been working hard to try to find it. One of the songs I did with a really good friend of mine, Nadav Peled, who is playing with me in the band, and we wrote a song in Hebrew that is called “Or.” “Ohr” means in English “light,” or in Amharic, “Mebrat.”
So I recorded this song, “Or,” “Light”, and I recorded this song with a very famous musician—she is 75 years old now and her name is Rivka Zohar. She is one of the biggest musicians we have ever had in Israel. The purpose of this song is just to remind us all that every time there is a darkness, after the darkness, there comes a light. This is very important to tell people, because once you get into the darkness, you are forgetting that at the end of the tunnel, there is always a light. The song was released actually a month ago and now it is playing on the radio, which I am really, really happy about. So hopefully people will listen to the words and try to find inspiration with these words.
“Or” by Gili Yalo featuring Rivka Zohar. Courtesy of Gili Yalo’s Official YouTube Channel.
“When winter is approaching and in your eyes it is cold
that the day is receding and all around is black,
the earth around us is covered in frost, we are covered with
light, we are covered with light, we are covered with light.
The moon looks at the light tonight
and the stream is roaring and there is nowhere to return
because there is no shelter and no hiding place
Let’s be filled with light, let’s be filled with light, let’s be filled with light
Let’s be filled with light, let’s be filled with light.
When darkness descends and your
heart is anointed and your head is so heavy and you won’t be able to remember
that we’ve been through a lot and we’ll get through this too, we’ll be
filled with light, filled with light, filled with light, covered with light,
covered with light, covered with light.
There is no act that I will not do for you.
There is no price too high.
It is not too late. I will not be able to remember
how to return to the light. How to return to the light, How to return to the light.
How to return to the light. How to return to the light.”
Faysal: I think that song is going to translate so well here in the U.S. when you come and play here. It seems so many of us here are going through that. We need the music that can kind of enlighten all of us and give us more patience. I really appreciate that. I am so, so happy to have heard of you, and coming through my time at The Cedar has been so much more blessed by artists like you. You are coming in June, and we’ll be there. We are so excited to see you.
Gili: Thank you very much and I appreciate that. I am so excited to come back again. Last time was wonderful—the audience was great, the hospitality was great, and I saw a lot of different cultures of music at The Cedar. I will see you soon—it will be awesome!
Faysal: Café Jote is next door! I hope your travels in the U.S. have gone well so far.
“Every place has its own thing, its own culture, its own small way, small coffee places, music, and you learn to appreciate every place by itself and to understand that we are not one person–we are all somehow different people, but what is gathering us, is that we are human beings.”
Gili: Yes, it has been a pleasure to come to the U.S. Every time you gain new experiences, new audiences—you understand that the U.S. is huge. Every place has its own thing, its own culture, its own small way, small coffee places, music, and you learn to appreciate every place by itself and to understand that we are not one person—we are all somehow different people, but what is gathering us, is that we are human beings. I hope to be there and make the best show that I can.
Faysal: Thank you so much.
MJ: What was your experience like after leaving Ethiopia at a young age and growing up in Israel?
Gili: As a kid, you don’t understand that you are in struggle, especially when you have a supportive family. My family was very supportive. Even when a racist thing happened to me in Israel, I thought it was just one individual person who is racist or acting in a mean way. The way I thought about it back then, was that you have some people who are bad in a society, but you cannot say all society is bad. As a kid, I didn’t feel it really affected me. Only when you grow up, do you really understand exactly what you experienced. Back then, I really escaped my identity to find some kind of immunity from these problems and try to be a part of the general society in Israel. I thought during my early years, that once I understood the language very well and once I understood the culture, all of these troubles would disappear.
“Through this whole process I had music, which made me much more stronger, self secure, and very, very positive, and once you have the stage and people are cheering for you, you know that you are good and you feel good. ”
So, I really escaped my Ethiopian culture, and I thought that was the best way to merge with the Israeli community and be part of it, and this is what I did for a lot of years. More than that, when I come to think about my childhood, I had Ethiopian friends and I had Israeli friends—which really gave me perspective to understand that not all society is bad, not all people are racist, and not all society is against you. I always had this kind of understanding that my Ethiopian people will understand me much better, because they grew up and experienced what I experienced. My Israeli friends were who I learned a lot of things from that in my culture I couldn’t get.
Through this whole process I had music, which made me much more stronger, self secure, and very, very positive, and once you have the stage and people are cheering for you, you know that you are good and you feel good. So, even when some people came and I had issues with them, I felt good. I felt it was just one person, or two people—generally, I felt really positive and very good. Naturally I am a positive person, so it really helped me to be a positive kid.
MJ: Will you share about a pivotal time in your life that strengthened your identity, music, and activism?
Gili Yalo. Photo by Zohar Ralt.
“ I started to really be involved more and to be active in civil rights–especially demonstrations against racism. This really influenced my music and I asked myself, “Who am I and where do I belong?” I thought if Israel doesn’t want me, I am an Ethiopian guy, so I need to go to my Ethiopian roots, which means Ethiopia, and over there, they will accept me. This is how I saw it. I started to listen to Ethiopian music and learn about the Ethiopian culture and learn about the Ethiopian Jewish culture–this is what made me the person I am today. I am much more aware of who I am, where I came from and where I am heading to.”
Gili: This was the breaking point—when bad things happen, or racism happens. There was one case in Kiryat Malachi, which is a city in Israel. The name Kiryat Malachi means “Los Angeles.” I am here right now in Los Angeles, California. The people who established Kiryat Malachi/Los Angeles in Israel were wealthy people from Los Angeles, California, in the United States and they had this vision to create a small version of Los Angeles in Israel. At the end of the day, it became one of the cities that didn’t have a lot of resources and money. It happened that a lot of Ethiopian people are living in Kiryat Malachi.
I really understood how big the problem was when I learned there was an agreement in an apartment building with 8-10 floors and each floor had about four apartments, and people were signing an agreement that they didn’t want to rent apartments to Ethiopian people. This was a breaking point for me. Even understanding it was a very small minority of people who were racist, I understood it was much more than that. There are a lot of racist people, but they don’t always say they are racist. From the outside they say they support people and believe in equal rights, but when you get to their doorstep, it suddenly changes–so this was a secret agreement. Then someone found out about the secret agreement and sent it to the press. Once this happened, I started to really be involved more and to be active in civil rights–especially demonstrations against racism.
This really influenced my music and I asked myself, “Who am I and where do I belong?” I thought if Israel doesn’t want me, I am an Ethiopian guy, so I need to go to my Ethiopian roots, which means Ethiopia, and over there, they will accept me. This is how I saw it. I started to listen to Ethiopian music and learn about the Ethiopian culture and learn about the Ethiopian Jewish culture–this is what made me the person I am today. I am much more aware of who I am, where I came from and where I am heading to.
“...it’s more than music, it’s something much more than music, for me it’s an essence just to put it on stage and say this is Ethiopian culture, look at it: in my music, in my dancing, in my pride. This dancing, this music, this pride, once you show it to people, it’s like a magnet. You’re drawing them to your culture. ”
This subject itself is so big, so it took a really big part of my life, actually. I started to take this music and try to put my culture on stages and be proud of my culture–which there aren't a lot of Ethiopian musicians who are making it in Israel–singing in the Amharic language and sharing/approaching it with people who are not Ethiopian people. So once I did it, it’s more than music, it’s something much more than music, for me it’s an essence just to put it on stage and say this is Ethiopian culture, look at it: in my music, in my dancing, in my pride. This dancing, this music, this pride, once you show it to people, it’s like a magnet. You're drawing them to your culture.
Once you draw them to your culture, I don’t say everyone, but some of them will read more and learn more and understand more about this culture, because they love the music. When you hear good music, most of the time you see it, you get into the roots of the music–like what was the influence of that music. Of course you will read about the culture of those people who are making the music to understand the music more—you love the music. That is how I felt and that is what made me to do it, because I could have been this pop singer who sings in Hebrew and only making Hebrew songs, and for me, the way I feel about it, maybe I could have been more popular, because it’s pop and it’s mainstream, but suddenly I didn’t feel it was enough for me. I felt music must be more deeper than that.
“It really influenced me and I really felt a need to talk about subjects not only about love, but also more subjects about society. To criticize society–not only in Israel–to put this in my lyrics and say what I believe in.”
My music, I felt, must be much more deeper than that—trying to deliver a message with the music I am doing. Of course I have been influenced by Bob Marley. They called him the preacher, he was a preacher. This really affected me—Bob Marley and a lot of African-American musicians who were fighting against discrimination—like Sam Cooke, James Brown, Billie Holiday, and Nina Simone. They were all wonderful musicians and they didn’t make the music only for themselves, they were a voice of a generation. It really influenced me and I really felt a need to talk about subjects, not only about love, but also more subjects about society. To criticize society—not only in Israel—to put this in my lyrics and say what I believe in.
MJ: You mentioned the city of Kiryat Malachi in Israel. There was a documentary film that you sang in that came out last year called Lost Angeles. What is this documentary film about?
Daroma Productions documentary “Lost Angeles.” Courtesy of Daroma Production’s Official YouTube Channel.
“I still saw the need to sing those songs and to be the guy who is telling the story of Kiryat Malachi. ”
Gili: The documentary producers didn’t approach me because of who I am, they were looking for an Ethiopian singer, to emphasize the Kiryat Malachi society, because there are a lot of Ethiopians in Kiryat Malachi, so they needed an Ethiopian singer telling the story of Kiryat Malachi. I don’t think they knew about my music, especially the director, but once they sent me the text of what the documentary was about, I felt that was exactly what I wanted to do. It was a perfect fit for me. I didn’t write the lyrics for the songs, I wish I could have, but everything was already set—they had already written the music. I still saw the need to sing those songs and to be the guy who is telling the story of Kiryat Malachi.
The documentary tells the story of a guy, Yosef Khoury, who fixes clocks, and this guy is a genius from one side, and from the other side, he is fighting what is going on in Kiryat Malachi. Yosef doesn’t really have the money to help what is really happening there, but he is still running to be the mayor of Kiryat Malachi. He represents those people in Kiryat Malachi who are really looking for change, but nothing has changed since they remember themselves from childhood. Nothing has changed in Kiryat Malachi. Nobody came in and said we need to do something about what is happening in Kiryat Malachi, because it is a very, very poor town. Yosef hasn’t become the mayor yet. If you don’t have the money and budget, it is very hard these days to run for mayor. It was very hard for him. Years ago, he was able to give free cable T.V. for the whole city. He is an entrepreneur and has a lot of good ideas in his mind. He is kind of a technological genius. The documentary is very interesting, funny, and also very sad.
“My mother is my life hero. She is a hero because of what she did on the way to Israel. She was always supportive. She never criticized me—no matter what I did. She told me that I was good, that I am beautiful, and that I can sing well. Whatever I wanted to be, my mother taught me that I am. ”
MJ: Have there been people in your life who have strongly influenced you?
Gili: My mother is my life hero. She is a hero because of what she did on the way to Israel. She was always supportive. She never criticized me—no matter what I did. She told me that I was good, that I am beautiful and that I can sing well. Whatever I wanted to be, my mother taught me that I am. This really gave me this confidence to do what I do right now. It’s not easy as a kid, at the age of eight, to go on stage and sing and be really the best singer in the group or choir. It is not just that I am a good singer, it’s a lot of confidence. This confidence came from my mother, it doesn't come from nowhere, it came from my mother. When I was dancing, she would clap her hands. When I was singing, she would sing with me. She would just watch me perform in front of her. My mother was my first audience.
Gili Yalo. Photo by Zohar Ralt.
“She passed away a year ago, unfortunately. She was telling me every time, that life goes on, no matter what is happening in life, life goes on. So I am taking this with me. Even though she passed away, I am trying to always remember her smile, her dancing, and the times she was beautiful, and the times she showed me how much this life is beautiful. ”
MJ: Did you ever invite her on to the stage with you?
Gili: One time I was performing in my hometown, and she was dancing with this group of mature women who were dancing the Ethiopian cultural dance. I invited her with her friends to dance to one of my songs.
She passed away a year ago, unfortunately. She was telling me every time, that life goes on, no matter what is happening in life, life goes on. So I am taking this with me. Even though she passed away, I am trying to always remember her smile, her dancing, and the times she was beautiful, and the times she showed me how much this life is beautiful.
A lot of people take death as something that is very sad and they may tend to go back to sad memories, which can really make you upset. I don’t say that I am not upset that my mother has passed away, but most of the time I am trying to remember her and smile, not to cry–of course it is not easy. Sometimes you can break down and sometimes it can really affect you and your emotions. My mother was the one I called every time I didn’t have anyone to talk to. She was the most important woman in my life and suddenly she is gone, but I still remember her smiling and dancing and I am trying to pass it on. When I am talking about my mother, I am trying not to talk about the time that she was sick, or when she was weak, I am trying to talk about the time she was strong and gave me inspiration.
“My mother was the one I called every time I didn’t have anyone to talk to. She was the most important woman in my life and suddenly she is gone, but I still remember her smiling and dancing and I am trying to pass it on. When I am talking about my mother, I am trying not to talk about the time that she was sick, or when she was weak, I am trying to talk about the time she was strong and gave me inspiration.”
MJ: What was it like performing with the legendary musician Mahmoud Ahmed?
Gili: The collaboration I did with Mahmoud Ahmed and the reggae band was a really, really big achievement for me–just to bring Mahmoud to play a song on our album. Mahmoud Ahmed is my favorite artist in Ethiopian music. His voice is unique and wonderful and he makes so many great songs in the Ethiopian tradition. I am singing one of his songs, “Ashkeru,” in my concerts as well. I don’t remember the exact year, but we sent Mahmoud Ahmed an email from our Zvuloon Dub System reggae band and luckily he responded positively and came to Israel for a show. We asked him to come to the studio and record with us, and he came to the studio. Unfortunately, that same day, my father’s brother passed away, so I couldn’t be in the studio, but three years later, I performed at the same stage with him, which for me was like, “Wow!” We shared the stage with Mahmoud at a festival in France. He liked what I did, so I was really happy to see that he was sharing with me how he felt about my music. I was very proud that he gave me his affirmation, “Gili, you’re ok.” Mahmoud Ahmed said I was “Ok,” so I don’t need anyone else to tell me that I’m ok, because I’m ok!
“Ashkeru” by Gili Yalo. Video Courtesy of Gili Yalo’s Official YouTube Channel.
I think Mahmoud Ahmed is the best singer of Ethiopian love songs of all time. My brother described it the best way. We have this Ethiopian music scale called tezeta which means “memory,” and it is really a kind of a melancholic scale. I was listening to Mahmoud Ahmed’s song called, “Tezeta.” I told my brother I love this song. My brother is older than me and he understands a little bit more of Ethiopian culture than me. My brother told me, “You know what happened when Mahmoud Ahmed published the song, “Tezeta” back in the ‘90s in Ethiopia? Every couple that was separated just got back together–all over Ethiopia.” I said, “Wow!” That is just a myth, but that is what he told me! Even to imagine it—to publish a love song and everyone's relationship comes back together. This is how people see Mahmoud Ahmed. He is like the king of tezeta!
In Ethiopian music there are a few scales. Each scale represents something else. The tezeta scale represents memory. Every time you want to sing about memory–a childhood memory, a love memory, every memory that you have, you just write the lyrics using the tezeta scale. We also have the anchihoye scale which is more for holidays, weddings, funerals, everything that requires ceremony. Then there is the bati scale. When you want to sing about a place, you will use the bati scale. (Also, the ambassel scale for historical themes). Each Ethiopian scale has its own place, which I find very interesting.
MJ: I remember when you sang “Sew Lesew” at The Cedar Cultural Center last October. The way you sang the song made an impression on me. What is the song about?
“Sew Lesew” by Gili Yalo. Video Courtesy of Gili Yalo’s Official YouTube Channel.
“At the end of the day “Sew Lesew” is people to people/person to person, not border to border. “Sew Lesew” is person to person. Which means the only border is you yourself in front of another person, not you and your nationality and your country.”
Gili: “Sew Lesew” is in the anchihoye scale. I was playing with the scale and I got the sense of a rock and roll vibe. The lyrics are talking about: “Even if there is light at that border, there is still darkness, if we don’t have love.”
At the end of the day “Sew Lesew” is people to people/person to person, not border to border. “Sew Lesew” is person to person. Which means the only border is you yourself in front of another person, not you and your nationality and your country.
MJ: “Selam” in Amharic means peace. You filmed your music video for this song in Ethiopia. What was it like being back in Ethiopia for the first time since you had left when you were a child, and what was it like making the music video?
Gili Yalo. Screenshot from “Selam” Video Courtesy of Gili Yalo’s Official YouTube Channel.
“ In 2017 I decided to go to Ethiopia which was the first time I had been back since I left there as a kid. I was really nervous and just imagining what will happen and not knowing how I will feel when I get there. It was kind of something that I never thought would happen, but once I landed and got out of the airplane, it felt like home, because it is the same language I heard in my house, the same food I ate in my house, the same music I heard in my house, and each person reminded me of a relative of mine. ”
Gili: In 2017 I decided to go to Ethiopia which was the first time I had been back since I left there as a kid. I was really nervous and just imagining what will happen and not knowing how I will feel when I get there. It was kind of something that I never thought would happen, but once I landed and got out of the airplane, it felt like home, because it is the same language I heard in my house, the same food I ate in my house, the same music I heard in my house, and each person reminded me of a relative of mine. He’s talking like my cousin! This guy is talking like my uncle! I felt really good over there. We had this idea to make a video of me laying on the ground singing the song–a very complicated idea for the music video for “Selam.” We were filming this idea, I had a film crew from Israel, and when we finished filming, we said let’s just film around the kids. What is so funny about it, most of the “Selam” music video is improvisation, not our original film idea. At the end of the day, we didn’t use our original music video idea. There are some parts where I am dancing and a part of the original idea for the video, but all the parts with the kids running around and dancing were very natural.
“What is so beautiful about it is that I saw that they are not rich people, they don’t have a lot, but they are smiling and dancing like it’s the best day of their life. ”
What is so beautiful about it is that I saw that they are not rich people, they don’t have a lot, but they are smiling and dancing like it’s the best day of their life. I was like, “Wow, how come?” You know there are some kids I know who have the best house, the best swimming pool, the best money, the best T.V., and they are still crying and sad. The kids in this film are dancing to the music and they felt really good. Not only the kids, but their parents are staring at them and laughing and dancing–they have time. The meaning of time is very different in Ethiopia. They are not too busy to go anywhere. They are just filling the time in a very different dimension–which is beautiful, because here in the western world, time is running everything, and in Ethiopia, they are running the time–it is beautiful. We filmed this video for my song “Selam.” “Selam” was the first song that I wrote in Amharic. I was really excited to see the kids in this way and I am glad we got to put it in the video, it was the best part!
“ We filmed this video for my song “Selam.” “Selam” was the first song that I wrote in Amharic. I was really excited to see the kids in this way and I am glad we got to put it in the video, it was the best part!”
MJ: I understand you are a strong believer in mentoring people. What is at the heart of your message?
Gili: My main message is to the young kids. Especially the young kids in Israel—they are looking for themselves. To every immigrant in this world who is looking to self or looking for their identity— identity is very important to understand who you are, because you understand who you are and where you came from–your history is your roots. We are like a tree–at the end of the day we grow some fruit and then fall down. A tree without roots falls down very easily. A tree has to have roots, and as much as the roots are strong, that is how the tree is strong.
So if kids have an identity crisis, it’s because they don’t know their roots, and once they will understand and learn their roots, they will understand more about themselves, and when there is a storm, you have your roots to keep safe from that storm. I know that once you know who you are and where you came from, it will be much clearer to see where you want to go, or where you are headed. This life is a journey. Sometimes this journey can really trick you.
“I know that once you know who you are and where you came from, it will be much clearer to see where you want to go, or where you are headed. This life is a journey.”
When I am saying roots, it doesn’t have to be exactly where you came from, it can be the roots are your mother and father–respect them, listen to them, understand them—these are your roots. So anything that helps you better understand who you are, are your roots. We have a lot of Ethiopian kids who are influenced by American culture, which is beautiful, I was that guy too, it’s ok to listen and understand American culture, but don’t forget your culture as well, it can only make you stronger, not weaken you. So this is my message to the kids–I hope they will take it!
“To every immigrant in this world who is looking to self or looking for their identity. Identity is very important to understand who you are, because you understand who you are and where you came from–your history is your roots. ”
MJ: You seem to really enjoy singing and dancing to the song “Sab Sam”! What is “Sab Sam” about and who wrote it?
“Sab Sam” by Gili Yalo, live in-studio at KEXP. Video Courtesy of KEXP’s Official YouTube Channel.
Gili: “Sab Sam” which means “Pull me and kiss me,” is one of those songs that you know will catch people! It has the ultimate Ethiopian groove! It is written by a musician who I know and have met in Israel, and his name is Neway Debebe, and it is sung by Tsehaye Yohannes.
I can say that Neway Debebe is the best pop music writer in Ethiopia. Every song that he writes catches you very fast and you fall in love with it very fast. He has the uplifting songs that are very, very happy and in a good vibe. This is one of the first Amharic songs I sang. I sang it with our Zvuloon Dub System reggae band, and every time we sang this song, the crowd went wild! I dance to this song! This song just lifts up the atmosphere of the room. It doesn’t have to be romantic, because in Ethiopia we kiss each other three times when we greet each other.
Not everything has to be so complicated–it is a very beautiful and simple love song.
“I really believe that it is much more fun to work with people you know and are friends, because music is energy and chemistry between people, and once everyone is feeling good with each other, you can feel it on their faces, you can feel it in their playing, and you can feel it in the music. I am trying to keep these musicians with me everywhere I go and they are really wonderful musicians. Most of them have played jazz and if you play jazz, I think it is easier to play Ethiopian funk. I am really lucky I have Nadav and the other musicians with me.”
MJ: You and your band have great energy, connection and talent! How did you all meet?
Gili: First of all I would like to give a lot of credit to Nadav Peled who is like a brother to me. We have known each other since 2010. He came to the Zvuloon Dub System reggae band as a substitute for the original guitar player. Nadav was a jazz musician and he played only jazz at that time. I introduced him to Ethiopian music, and once he heard Ethiopian music, he fell in love with it.
He went to learn Ethiopian music in New York and established an Ethiopian funk band called Anbessa Orchestra. At the beginning when I was coming to the U.S., it was very hard for me to bring my band from Israel. Luckily, I had Nadav here, and I said, “Listen, why don’t you choose a few members of your band and we can play together in my songs,” and he said he was up for it, and that is how it started five or six years ago at our first show in the United States with my solo career. Since then, most of the time it has been the same band.
I really believe that it is much more fun to work with people you know and are friends, because music is energy and chemistry between people, and once everyone is feeling good with each other, you can feel it on their faces, you can feel it in their playing, and you can feel it in the music. I am trying to keep these musicians with me everywhere I go and they are really wonderful musicians. Most of them have played jazz, and if you play jazz, I think it is easier to play Ethiopian funk. I am really lucky I have Nadav and the other musicians with me.
Gili Yalo at The Kennedy Center. Video Courtesy of The Kennedy Center’s Official YouTube Channel.
MJ: Did this same band play with you at The Kennedy Center last September?
Gili: Yes, that was a really, really good show. I am really happy we had the chance to play there. They put my albums in the Library of Congress—which is beautiful for me and I hope to visit there soon. (Gili’s albums in the Library of Congress: Made in Amharica, Gili Yalo, Freedom Time/Zvuloon Dub System).
“Once you lose a person who you love, you understand this is what life has to give you and as long as you are alive, that is the best present you will ever get–more than that, nobody can promise you anything, anything. Which means even though you are in a dark place, you have to remember to say thank you when you go to sleep and thank you when you are waking up in the morning. I think this is very helpful. When I do it, it is the best time in my life when I say thank you when I go to sleep and thank you when I am awake. Just to say those words–you will feel better.”
MJ: With all of your life experience, how have you navigated through life?
Gili: Life goes on—it’s as simple as that. Be water, don’t be a rock. Rocks can break, but water does not break. Water can break you, but it can never break. I think it is from the journey to Israel. I don’t know how I am alive right now, but I am. The doctors told my parents in Sudan that I had malaria and that I am not going to make it, but here I am. So once you have this struggle from a very early age, I don’t even remember it, but I know I was in struggle–what can life bring you that can be much harder than that? Or once you saw a lot of people dying around you and you just keep on moving, you understand that life goes on, once you are losing your best friend, you understand that life goes on.
Once you lose a person who you love, you understand this is what life has to give you and as long as you are alive, that is the best present you will ever get–more than that, nobody can promise you anything, anything. Which means even though you are in a dark place, you have to remember to say thank you when you go to sleep and thank you when you are waking up in the morning. I think this is very helpful. When I do it, it is the best time in my life when I say thank you when I go to sleep and thank you when I am awake. Just to say those words–you will feel better.