The sun had just set on the sixth night of Hanukkah, and the august rabbi sat solemnly, his hands folded on the head of his cane. With his long white beard and his gray hat, he was the picture of old-world formality. The social hall of the synagogue was nearly full but no one sat near him, although a few watched to see his reaction to Farbrengiton, the band about to rock the Agudas Achim North Shore Congregation.

Davis looked at the rabbi. The rabbi nodded slowly.

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“This song, I believe, is by the Lubavitcher rebbe,” said Nathan, introducing “Johnny Tzama.” The song was a niggun–a piece of Jewish inspirational music–played at double speed and amped up with a guitar riff that sounded like a surf party and a Jewish wedding dance at the same time.

The musical roots of Farbrengiton–the name melds the phrase “bring it on” with farbrengen, a Yiddish word for fellowship with friends–go back to 19th-century eastern Europe. But more immediately, they can be traced to an apartment house on Oakley in West Rogers Park. Nicknamed Electric Oakleyland, the building served as a dorm, crash pad, and rehearsal space for Jewish musicians. Zev Goldberg lived there two years ago, as did his mentor, Yaneev. Yaneev was a wedding singer who, like Zev, followed Even Sh’siyah, a popular local Jewish rock band.

Shneur Nathan, whose brother Yosef was a member of Farbrengiton’s first lineup, went to a Jewish boarding school in Milwaukee where “they would take away your radio if they caught you listening to non-Jewish music.” Nathan was more interested in Guns N’ Roses, so he adopted a clandestine system: “You had to pay a guy to rig your radio so it shut off when someone opened your door.”

When Goldberg founded Farbrengiton last year he found a kindred spirit in Adam Davis, the emcee at the Hanukkah concert. Since 2001, Davis has organized a number of Jewish-music bills through Kfar, an organization that aims to reach young Jews who aren’t religious but still identify with their heritage. Farbrengiton was also part of a larger movement to make Judaism hip to rock fans used to seeing stars like Bob Dylan, Gene Simmons, and Slash avoid Jewish topics and obscure their roots by changing their names.

After the concert was over the rabbi, whose name is Philip Lefkowitz, pronounced Farbrengiton impeccably Jewish.