Everyone had that one friend- the tall skinny white guy who thought he could flow. This was probably Matisyahu as a teenager. Today, this occurrence is virtually inevitable. Hip-Hop culture made its way into the suburbs like a bad case of the swine flu. Upon first hearing of the orthodox Jewish reggae-toasting human beatbox— the kind of Jewish boy my Bubbe would give a resounding ‘Mazel Tov’—let’s just say skepticism was in the air.

Three albums deep, repping a new single that provides schmaltzy background filler for a 2010 Winter Olympics commercial plus the recent news he ditched his Hasidic Jewish affiliation, Matthew Miller, as Matis is formally named, seemed to have been put in a choke hold by the music biz. Tuesday’s performance at the House of Blues however, gave any naysayers a proverbial kick in the groin. Aside from some ‘choice’ guest appearances, the bearded throwback to Jimmy Cliff turned shtick into a full-blown cathartic ganja-aided experience.

If saluting reggae is your forte, it helps if you’ve got the lyrics, flow and delivery to back it up. But essentially fans want to be transported to a sandy beach with spliff in hand, cares drifting away. Matisyahu got this memo. His three-piece band laid low with a Pink Floyd-esque “On the Run” style mood-filler, before Matisyahu strutted to center stage and began flowing to “Chop Em’ Down” off his highly-lauded, yet difficult to locate, debut LP Shake Off the Dust… Arise.

Matisyahu’s stage presence remains intriguing. The Talis-donning spiritual crooner bops his way about the stage rhythmically jiving to the Rastafari-inspired beat with eyes piercing the crowd in an eerily robotic fashion. One begins to wonder where the soaring voice comes from. Matisyahu draws you into his chilled-out web.

On newer riffs, like “One Day” and “Thunder” off his recent LP Light, Matisyahu raised his voice far above his normal whisper. With organ runs, swampy guitar riffs and Daft Punk-y electronica looming behind, Matisyahu killed. The diverse throng of rowdy fans responded with roaring approval— although I could have done without the drunken frat boy who yelling “MAATISSSYAHUUU” and upsetting the mellow moment.

Matisyahu played all his cards right Tuesday night—except for his choices of musical guests. A Slim-Shady Mini-Me rapper joined him onstage midway through the set, then proceeding to peddle his CDs to fans during the encore. After a riveting performance of “Jerusalem,” a poppy bumper off Light, opening act Trevor Hall, a dreadlocked-acoustic strummer whom Matis likely met at an ashram- or actually an art exhibit, provided the low point of the show with an awkward lyrical poem to begin the encore. Thankfully, this strange performance was followed immediately by Matisyahu busting into an astounding beatbox chock full of scats and scuds that hit hard. The air was taken out of the room, as Matis freewheeled from his beatbox into “King Without A Crown,” a fitting choice of closer, seeing as the Hashem-praising tune has been the cornerstone of Matisyahu’s repertoire since his breakout live LP, Live At Stubbs.

Matisyahu is certainly not a fad. He’s got the record sales and live attendance to prove it. The talent is there. One thing is certain—with peaceful aura intact, this skinny Caucasian vibes with the best.