My Secret Static
The Birth of Liraz
This was a huge week for our muse and celebrity fave Static, formerly of the superstar duo Static and Ben El. (For more on how their work inspired the title of our newsletter, take a look at our About page.) He has had quite a tumultuous year. First, in August 2022, after recordings emerged of Ben El threatening his ex-wife and son, the duo parted ways. Then, in November, after less than a year of marriage and several months of separation, Static and his new wife Sarit Pollak divorced for undisclosed reasons, although there were rumors of Static’s infidelity. Shortly thereafter, Static retreated to a villa in Caesarea to write and record a solo album. Finally, this week, we saw a splashy, carefully orchestrated rollout of Static’s new musical and private persona: Liraz. Liraz is Static’s given name, but it also means “my secret,” so it’s a perfect (and convenient) description of his self-exploration.
Double Divorce
The first part of Static’s rebrand was the release of a prime-time Behind the Music-style documentary special about the past year and the process of returning to music and to himself. Subtitled “Grushim kfulim,” or “Double Divorce,” it’s set mostly in the villa in Caesarea where Static and his production team spent 5 months at the end of 2022 recording and producing his new album (about which more below). Using old footage of him with Ben El and his ex-wife Sarit Pollak as well as documentary-style interviews with Static in the villa, the special traces what went wrong in his professional and personal life. The narrative is carefully crafted, offering some insight into and never-before-seen footage of the conflicts that broke up the group as well as his marriage.
What emerges feels like a highly curated yet still honest portrait of an extremely talented, sensitive, and surprisingly innocent artist. At one point Static mentions having consulted with his therapist (we love a man in therapy!) as his marriage crumbled, which may explain his very measured, thoughtful, and sensitive approach to both the end of his professional partnership with Ben El and his reinvention as a solo artist. He even cries! And he acknowledges that his own youth and immaturity may have played a role in the collapse of that relationship as well as his marriage. However, he denies - vehemently! – the adultery rumors that plagued him as he separated from Sarit. It’s probably the angriest we see him over the course of the special.
Some of the most touching and genuine moments in the documentary revolve around his pretty healthy and functional relationship with his parents. The infant Liraz Russo was adopted and raised by loving parents in Haifa. He talks about how he was teased in school for being adopted (which is less common and more stigmatized in Israel) but always embraced and made to feel wanted and loved at home. There are some cute moments as he banters with his parents around the kitchen table of the villa and sits with them while they preview the new album.
Less touching is the depiction of Static’s relationship with his bandmate Ben El, although there are some not-so-shocking revelations, mostly about Ben El’s anger, resentments, and generally juvenile behavior, which is even more striking given Static’s maturity when conflicts between them arose. And it’s not a he-said, he-said situation: the special includes footage shot during an argument between the two of them while they were at the height of their fame in the midst of a tour, in which we see Ben El lash out against Static about a trivial matter, and grudgingly reconcile when Static generously accepts responsibility for any harm he caused. Static then explains that this fight was mild compared to some other incidents that were not recorded. Another, more shocking revelation is that the band was asked to open for Pitbull on an international tour just before the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, and Ben El refused. Covid tanked those plans anyway, but imagine an alternate universe where you could have seen Static and Ben El on tour with Pitbull! Soon in our time.
Ultimately, Liraz: Double Divorce is a triumph of marketing and a testament to the strength of Static’s team in executing his pivot to solo artist. The fact that the band’s entire production team followed Static into his new career is evidence that he was always the talent and the brains behind the operation, and as his new album indicates, he has many more years of success ahead.
Also, where can we get these glasses?
Liraz
Shayna listened to the Galgalatz live album release, and the DJs were trying to describe what made Static and Ben El so unique in Israeli music. One of them argued that they created an Israeli pop sound that simply didn’t exist before. There was rock, Mizrahi music, rap, and more before–but nothing like this. And now, almost ten years later, we can’t imagine Israeli music without them. Static and Ben El introduced a global pop to Israel that we’ll be thinking about for a long time. The question, of course, is, what’s next? We learned from the movie that while Ben El Tavori had the smooth vocal tricks, Static was really the creative energy behind the duo. It’s quite telling that all the major producers they worked with–Jordi and crew–reassembled to help Static write his first solo album. They made this entire album over the course of several months in a fancy Caesarea villa, complete with a live-in chef, video games, and drawers full of Bamba. (Sign us up – this sounds awesome.) Moreover, the album is posted on the band’s joint YouTube account that already has over a million followers. The message: Liraz is the future of Static and Ben El.
Liraz starts with its eponymous song, a duet between the regular guy Liraz and the superstar Static, his alter ego. They battle it out, shout insecurities at each other, and at the end Liraz declares victory: “fuck Static, I’m going to work on new shit.” The difference in the voices between his two personas is stunning, reminding listeners that while they may think they know Static, they don’t—not at all. Indeed, on this album we hear Static sing for the first time (!) Even when he raps, it’s a different vibe than in the past. This feels more real, more experimental, and interesting than anything he’s done before.
The rest of the album is Liraz trying on different musical styles to see what sticks. We’re happy to report that most of it works–extremely well. “Balenciaga” is a sexy ode to hooking up on a schedule, a worthy challenge for our hero. The duets are bangers and pretty fun, including established stars like Eden Ben Zaken and newer talents like Odeya. There’s a few heartfelt songs seemingly addressed to his ex-wife Sarit, pulling at the heartstrings, and even a phone call to his mom who encourages him to go after his heart. There are still plenty of odes to hot babes, especially “Superstarit,” who thankfully has “a big big booty and an OnlyFans.” (Shayna is not too proud to admit she likes the song. Just living her truth. #Badfeminist).
Sometimes, the style seems forced. “Bul Baemtza” (Exactly in the Middle) is pretty generic, although we very much appreciate its location exactly in the middle of the album. The only real miss is the dabke imitation “Al Harasi.” The oud is a bit much, especially when paired with a badly accented English from Static. (We know your English is better than that! We saw you on Good Morning America!) We cringed when Static rapped, “Ahalaan Ladies, how are you? Let me show you what to do.” It reminds us of some of the earlier Static and Ben El shtick, in which they ogled the hot babes of the world (Yasso, Kawaii, Namaste, etc.) together with global musical traditions in a very weird mashup that borders on cultural appropriation. Static, leave that behind. We beg you.
The album ends with “Mahul,” (Forgiven), a gorgeous acoustic ballad reflecting on his double divorce, his past life with Sarit and Ben El and all the events of the past year. We’d love to see an entire album in this mode–go full Harry Styles on us, please!!! While it’s the end of this chapter, he promises us that it’s not the end of the story–he’s not going anywhere. We can’t wait to see what comes next.
Further Up
Before the special aired, the drama began. Ben El and Static posted cryptic status messages that seemed to throw shade at each other over their breakup.
Ben El even unfollowed Static on Instush. But eventually a clever publicist (we assume) took Ben El’s phone away from him and the stories shifted toward messages of mutual love and respect, along with well wishes. Ben El Tavori’s father, Shimi, who is also a singer and his own sort of trainwreck, made sure to let the public know that Static is a snake, and Ben El was the true genius behind the duo. Fun fact about Shimi: He has seven children with three different women and they all have “el” in their names: Eliran, Ariel, Daniel, Ben El, Bat El, Orel, and El Ad. Normal things. But we digress. Meanwhile, Sarit skipped town for a girls’ trip to Dubai the day the status premiered.
The special got a whopping twenty percent rating, which means one of every five Israeli televisions on Tuesday night watched the documentary, with countless more tuning in online. The early reviews of the album are good, and social media has been supportive as well. And of course, like clockwork, two days later, Eretz Nehederet, the popular sketch comedy show that airs on the same channel (Keshet 12) as the documentary, presented a skit with Ben El and Sarit “responding” to the news deluge. We’d wager to say that this sketch was part of the package deal for Keshet, and should be seen as part of the promotion cycle (while not so funny, this makes it strategically brilliant). While it poked fun at Static for his tendency toward tears and open displays of emotion (atypical behavior for Israeli men), the true target was, as always, Ben El. True to form, back in real life, Ben El just landed in Italy with his girlfriend, refuting earlier rumors that the couple had broken up. He is now attending Italy Fashion Week. Sure! Why not.
Wherever this journey takes Static and Ben El, we just wish them, in their own words: Tudo Bom.