Here on Al compás del mundo you’ve previously heard programs of music from Asia, Europe, Latin America, North America, and, of course, Africa. In the case of the latter, I’ve broken that down more narrowly to Northern or Southern Africa, music with Latin roots, the youth movement in Mali, and other genres from within the continent. At times I attempted to distinguish traditional sounds from the more modern studio recordings. But my distinguishing isn’t always up to snuff. This week’s program gives evidence to that delicate dance between the music of the elders and what the kids want to hear. The songs in this playlist come from all over Africa, including the remote island, La Réunion, off the eastern coast of Madagascar, and hail from the last quarter of the 20th century to the present day. I believe that qualifies as “modern”. And yet within that time frame we find those musicians that adhere to long established instrumentation and singing styles like the Akalé Wubé Krar Collecive,

Being that rockabilly music was a theme just a couple of weeks back, I thought I’d stick with Southern roots music for another whirl on the Al compás del mundo (World Beats) tour. Often synonymous with bluegrass music, the Appalachian sound became increasingly of interest to this San Franciscan likely as a result of the Hardly, Strictly Bluegrass festival held yearly in Golden Gate Park. During the three-day run in early October (and with – typically – some of the best weather of the entire year,) five stages present an incredible wealth of musical creativity. And it’s all free. Make the pilgrimage if you can for a mega-dose of blues, country, rock, a little bit of soul and lots of that good ol’ Southern mountain sound. I’ve embraced it to the degree that dueling banjos and plaintive vocals have found their place in the world music collection at the Haas house. And fortunately, I’ve long enjoyed the folk music traditions of Ireland and Scotland. Due to very sizable numbers of Scots-Iri

  This has to be one of my favorite programs. The British blues scene gave us a healthy dose of reverential and, admittedly, imitative music that awakened a youthful audience suffering from pop fatigue on both sides of the ocean. Of course, the blues, as interpreted by young white musicians who couldn’t have been much further from the Mississippi Delta or the South side of Chicago, can be considered as cultural appropriation. At the same time, those involved in the scene have reminisced that playing the blues was largely a visceral reaction to a compelling combination of rhythm, lyrics and energy that was distinct from the British music scene up to that point. I don’t believe anyone at the time felt guilty playing the songs of their Southern US heroes. Does it make a difference that a number of these groups went on to earn far more money than the originators ever dreamed of? Probably, though many of the greats – Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, Sonny Boy Williamson and others – profited