The Khaled concert was to have been held shortly after 9/11, but what were the chances that Arabs living in Europe were getting on planes bound for New York in October of 2001? So the concert was rescheduled for February.

 

We had aisle seats. Usually a good thing. Not so great that night — the concert was close to a riot, and the aisles were filled with running, screaming fans. You wouldn’t have expected this; the audience was the most international gathering of adults I’ve ever seen in a theater.

 

Khaled caused the riot. He was drunk, but that wasn’t much of a factor — it seemed that all he had to do is stand on stage and people were agitated. But because he was drunk, he was decorated all over: an Israeli flag, Arab head gear, Algerian scarf. Quite perfect, really: Khaled is an Algerian who had to leave his country when religious fanatics started killing rai singers. He now lives in Paris. He uses reggae musicians from Jamaica. The producer of his best record is a Jew from Los Angeles.

 

So this was a special kind of riot — an outburst of internationalism, a triumph of the basic human love for a good time. Sexy, party music. A night out, with a partner you want to wake up with.

 

I read that a recent poll finds Americans increasingly "isolationist." Good luck to those people. It’s one world now, connected by the Internet and, in my view, by World Music, a category growing bigger each year. Nobody’s ever succeeded in stopping music. And this stuff is great music. For those who don’t find complete satisfaction in "American Idol" or in the greatest hits of a band of dinosaurs, World Music is fresh, breathtaking, thought-provoking, soulful.  

 

Over the years, I’ve featured my favorites. This seemed like a good time to bundle them up in one place and urge you to sample the category. In my humble opinion, whichever you choose, you can’t go wrong. Though, of course, the real right answer is to scoop them all up.

 

His recent death is sad, because he had an inexhaustible supply of genius guitar music. Imagine John Lee Hooker playing blues in Mali, singing about crops and schools. Down home? Yes. But also totally sophisticated.

 

He sang Mali’s equivalent of the national anthem, then vanished for decades. He’s back now, and he’s got the passion of a young man. And can he play guitar!

Toots & The Maytals

The Jamaican Otis Redding, as raspy as Otis and happy as a sunny day. Who else could write a jaunty tune about his prison number?

 

Before Bob Marley became a god, he struggled. "Catch A Fire" was the breakthrough.

 

Arguably the most evocative singer alive. The soul of Cape Verde — islands so poor that soul is one of the few assets.

 

"Sahra" is the CD to own: lush, rhythmic, hit after hit. Bonus: You can improve your French by singing along.

 

Van Morrison thought Nusrat was the greatest male singer on the planet. These are Sufi devotional songs, but boy do they remind you of a Southern church.

 

The 750-pound Hawaiian sang the version of "Over the Rainbow" that makes you cry.