Last year the second collaboration of African and European artists and music by Spain's Ketama and Malian kora master Toumani Diabate was released. During the Songhai 2 sessions, another entire album was recorded, centered on the African side, Djelika [Hannibal/Ryko HNCD 1380 (1995)]. Balafonist Keletigui Diabate and ngoni player Basekou Kouyate, both acknowledged masters of their craft with a string of credentials, joined Toumani Diabate in one of those rare and splendid moments of recording, where everything seems to fit just perfectly. This is a set of traditional songs from Mali, but they are hardly confined to a traditionalist setting. These three artists (and I hesitate to commend one over the other) have lived through a decade of immense musical turmoil, have performed in the most overblown pop projects and the sparest of traditional settings. They bring all of this to these ancient rhythms and melodies to create a new vocabulary for their instruments. You can hear flamenco, jazz, hints of European folk and one or two blatant pop quotations in their work, without ever losing their hold on the ancient sound of their music. They are joined by bassists Danny Thompson and Javier Colina, each adding a distinctive voice to the tracks they play on. I rarely recommend tracks, but I have two you might consider first. "Animata Santoro" is subtlety incarnate. The title track is a rich, adventurous blend of jazz and flamenco, and the bass parts by Colina are exceptionally sympathetic.

Djelika crossed my desk at an opportune moment, because it joins another masterful work that may very well become one of those "classics" someday down the road. Salif Keita has finally returned to the recording studio, revitalized and in fine form. Folon [Mango] is sure to cause a flurry of superlatives from press geeks like me. What is important about these two records is that they are a good measure of where "world music" in Africa has gone. For the first decade of the "w.m." craze, there seemed to be two divergent camps; the hard core, "bang on a stick" traditionalists and the "make-pop-make-money" crossover crew. What this last few years has brought us is a new coming of age in African music, particularly from western Africa. No longer confined to seeking hits or "saving the tradition," the world is ready for African musicians to be just that: musicians, with no political or cultural constraints. They are finally free to collaborate with whom they want, where they want, a luxury the world has always afforded western Europe's and America's artists but has often been hesitant to offer to Asia's or Africa's. While Diabate chooses an acoustic, if you will, "folksy" approach, Keita has always chosen the higher (tech) path. From his first solo album, Soro (still acclaimed a landmark by many) through the missteps and victories of his subsequent releases, he has never hesitated to explore. Unfortunately, either by personal choice or industry pressure, there has been many a misstep into the easy path of pop-crossover. But here we have a mature, confident and powerful creator coming to a new place, full of ancient heritage and new technology. These two recordings (and many others these last few years) have marked the real beginning of "world music."

Folon is probably going to be dubbed a masterpiece. Give me a year and I'll likely join the choir. It's all here, from the roots-goes-high-tech production values to the angelic chorus of Djene Doumbia and Djanka Diabate. Ousmane Kouyate's guitar is that mellifluous Guinean pleasure he is known for, and on the remake of "Mandjou" (yes, he did!) he is pure joy. There are roots excursions like the balafon and guitar induced "Seydou," washes of reggae, Afro-pop and indescribable fusions like "Mandela," the only Rykiel production on the album. The rest of the album was pulled together by Wally Badorou, and his sense of musical layers is exactly what Keita needs to make his voice (that voice!) rocket skyward. Don't even give a moment's hesitation to getting this record in your hands. It is an absolute essential.

While you are at it, run, don't walk, to your phone and order a copy of Sunugal, the latest tape for Africa by Baaba Maal. Already a hot ticket on my WPKN program, this is Maal at his best: rootsy, funky, and full of life. It's mostly an acoustic outing, with the vocals carried on percussion, flute, kora (the infamous Kawning Cissokho) and guitar (the always superb Mansour Seck). Maal was made for this kind of setting, and why he doesn't do more of it is a mystery to me. If this is the harbinger of his next major CD release in Europe and America, watch out. This is the African released tape, so it is not an easy find. The tape is available by mail-order from Africassette [P.O. 24941/ Detroit, MI 48224, e-mail: africsstte@aol.com]

Cape Verdean diva Cesaria Evora [Nonesuch 79379 (1995)] is the perfect tonic to conjure up a hot summer's evening. Her voice is smooth, sultry, full of nostalgic pathos and romantic whimsy. Evora honed her skills in the local bars of her native island off the coast of Senegal, staying home while many of Africa's hopeful stars had headed for the hills of Paris. She only made the pilgrimage late in life, when she was noticed by a French producer and brought to the city to record the music she had assimilated and nurtured.

And what a music she has given birth to, a mix of European nightclub torches, American blues and ragtime and various regenerations of some of the popular local styles, a fusion that has much in common with the modern music of places like Bahia in Brazil. In fact, many listeners will at first think they have stumbled on a new Brazilian sound. The Cape Verdean version of the blues, the morna, is at the heart of her music, a soulful, playful music that mixes sadness and joy in unusual combinations. Her voice carries these qualities well, and is reminiscent of Billy Holiday, Maria Bethânia and maybe even at a stretch, Lotte Lena or Edith Piaf. The backing band is an all acoustic unit of guitars and cavaquinho with bass, accordion and reeds filling it out. The sum total is a warm and stirring vision of life as told by a fine chantuese.

There has been a flurry of new releases out of my home away from home, Finland. Top of the stack is Maria Kalaniemi's newest album, Iho [Olarin Musiikki Oy/ PL 20/ 02211 Espoo/ Finland], which I am constrained to say little about until the U.S. release is confirmed. She and her ensemble Aldargaz have made yet another milestone in Finnish new music.

Minna Raskinen has taken the national instrument of modern Finland, the kantele, and found a simple, powerful way to redefine the music. The kantele is a zither-like instrument, open strings plucked and stopped by both hands to attain both melody and chords. Revelations [Olarin OMCD 64 (1995)] takes the instrument on a wonderful journey through ancient tradition and modern improvisational interpretation. These pieces are all solo works, but at times she has the ability to make you feel like they are duet or trio performances. From the raucous Iris "Jig" to the ethereal settings she has composed for poems by Kari Saviniemi, Raskinen has found a new voice for an old instrument, innovating both the instrument itself and the techniques she uses.

The mandolin is not a Finnish instrument, but like the accordion, it has its proponents all over the world. In Finland there are many infamous players, from young fiddlers to the old mandolin masters like Heikki Lahti. The Helsinki Mandoliners [Kansanmusikki-instituutti KICD 38 (1995)] are a trio who have made their mark all over the new Finnish folk scene, in bands like Aldargaz, JPP, Koinurit and Ottopasuuna. Here they take on jazz, bluegrass, swing and of course, their own folk music. There are no familiar covers here, just artful shots at folk tunes and original melodies. Just three mandolins and the occasional upright bass move this band through some lively, bright and clever sets of tunes, with tight, sometimes witty arrangements.

Erik Hokkanen & Lumisudet go further afield, driving into Kaustinen, Texas [Olarin] with border swing and jumping blues. He is joined by two of the Mandoliners, Arto Järvelä and Petri Hakala, along with the entire fiddle contingent from JPP on a bunch of songs. The Finns have managed to assimilate music as unlikely as tango into their "tradition" and here Hokkanen tackles just about everything else (waltzes, Tex-Mex and more) with wit and energy.

My last trip to Kaustinen in 1994 yielded a DAT tape that I still treasure and listen to repeatedly. Me Naiset is a group of women who met at the Sibelius Music Academy. Their common interest in Finno-Urgic music and language led them to a series of a capella performances, and finally, this self titled album [Kansanmusikki-instituutti KICD 37 (1995)]. These ancient polyphonic songs, primarily from Ingria (now in Russia) are as rich and surprising as anything you have heard from Bulgaria, Russia or Tahiti.