
Steve Lieberman, also known as The Gangsta Rabbi, has never played by the rules, and on “Skinheads in My Yard Oy! Vey,” he doesn’t just break them, he gleefully grinds them into dust. What blasts through the speakers isn’t a track in the traditional sense—it’s an eruption. A frantic collision of punk, klezmer, noise rock, and pure, righteous chaos. From its first distorted scream, Lieberman grabs you by the collar and drags you through a sonic minefield, exploding with rage, wit, and the blood-soaked ghosts of generations past.
The instrumentation is anything but conventional. Drum machines pound with apocalyptic force while basslines quake beneath wheezing horns and shofar blasts that sound like ancient sirens wailing in the present. Lieberman’s vocals are half-snarl, half-sermon—raspy, relentless, and unapologetically Jewish. He spits lines like street-corner prophecy, a voice channelling punk defiance through the lens of personal trauma and cultural survival. Every second of this song feels like it’s stitched together with urgency and duct tape.
But underneath the unfiltered noise lies a staggering depth. Lieberman isn’t raging for show—he’s a man who’s lived with bipolar disorder, who’s facing terminal leukaemia, and who continues to create like his soul depends on it. This isn’t a performance—it’s a lifeline. The chaos becomes catharsis. Each clang, screech, and guttural growl is a stand against bigotry, erasure, and time itself. When he yells “Oy! Vey,” it lands like both a punchline and a battle cry—absurd and deadly serious all at once.
“Skinheads in My Yard Oy! Vey” is rough, confrontational, and structurally unhinged—and that’s exactly what makes it vital. It doesn’t try to be radio-friendly or marketable. It screams because screaming is all that’s left when civility fails. In a time when even underground scenes are slick and curated, Lieberman offers a gut-level reminder that true punk isn’t polished. It’s dangerous, uncomfortable, and alive.
This track may never top charts, but it’s not meant to. It’s meant to rattle windows and rattle you. Steve Lieberman has built a monument out of distortion and defiance—raw, grotesque, and weirdly beautiful. “Skinheads in My Yard Oy! Vey” is his middle finger to death, conformity, and fascism. And in its screeching, glorious noise, you can hear something else too: survival, joy, and the roar of a soul refusing to go quietly.