A few years ago I was surprised to get a cd of a Finnish band playing salsa. My surprise is diminished now by Tinder Records' Salsa Mundo anthology which spins the globe to find Latin rhythms in unlikely spots. Tokyo weighs in on this supercharged collection with Orquestra del Sol's "Campanero," and if anyone can find a trace of a Japanese musical accent tell me where to look. Much of the adaptation of salsa to the world stage is seamless, and the cuts that tip their hand as to place of origin do so willfully. Take Fatal Mambo's Gallic spark on the funny, catchy French-language "Probleme," African Fiesta's classic Congolese rumba "Paquita" and Bago's Martinique approach to "No Volvere" with French Creole and Spanish lyrics. We'll have to wait for the Jerusalem Salsa Band's promised Hebrew-language take on salsa, contenting ourselves with the excellent "Oye Me Israel," which for my money could come straight out of Puerto Rico, though Salsamania, the Finnish band that first got me thinking about all of this, delights with its blend of a clave beat and Finno-Urgic vocals. None of this strikes me as novelty material, just straight forward demonstrations of love for an irresistible musical force.

Speaking of unlikely Finnish influences, Conga Se Menne is back with further chronicles of life in Michigan's Upper Peninsula on Land of the Conga Boys (Conga Records). Set to a reggae beat with a smattering of Finnish-language lyrics are paeans to a perfect day fishing ("Aurikno Paistaa"), the tale of woe of a pick-up truck breakdown in the mosquito-infested middle of nowhere ("Backwoods Road"), and assorted rockified anthems to the Big Lake and a big chainsaw which may or may not be tongue-in-cheek ("Superior," "U.P. Boy") while packing in more sunshine than any given year in the state. Sweetening the guitar-heavy line-up that debuted on 1995's Finnish Reggae and Other Sauna Beats are accordion, steel drums, mandolin, more keyboards, more percussion, cryptic references to one Heckie Luther and a Caribbean accent via Sting that merely glosses over the yooper-speak. Ties for best cut are "Out to the Blind," which wriggles inside the groggy mentality of a hunter shaking off the dawn cobwebs, and a pair of amplified Finnish instrumentals ("Talikkala Schottische/Tule Tytto Tansiin") that never sounded this jumpy at the Sibelius Academy. [P.O. Box 48, Negaunee, MI 49866 or 906-475-9399--available in 8-track format by special request.]

A nice idea with real moments of pay-off is the merging of Indian Carnatic and western romantic music on Silver Dagger's Rays of Radiance (Frequency Glide). Brainchild of producer and guitarist Mark Humphrey, this follows in the footsteps of his earlier east-west showdown-hoedown Calcutta to California with similar giddy-gratifying results. The straight Carnatic pieces that date back as far as the 12th century mostly go it alone without obvious modernization, highlighting Chitravina Ravikiran's heartstopping mastery of his custom-designed chitravina, a 21-one string fretless offspring of the vina, which Ravikiran plays in Hawaiian steel-guitar fashion. Western hemisphere torch songs and laments benefit from arrangements that fold in the chitravina along with tabla, tambora, harmonium, guitar, vocal and dulcimer which together achieve an unexpected yet miraculously cohesive whole. While Silver Dagger's take on "Sugar Baby" doesn't strive for the intensity of the Dock Boggs' version, the Indian instrumentation turns the bitter declaration of a spurned lover into a kind of rumination. Pay no attention that the "Silver Dagger Trilogy" which closes the disc is four songs long. All other equations here add up. [P.O. Box 72, Santa Monica, CA 90406 or freqglide@aol.com]

I'm running out air, but I did want to briefly mention two discs of music from Angola. The peak experience of 1995's Afropea 3: Telling Stories from the Sea anthology was "Mona Ki Ngi Xica" by Bonga, and it's a pleasure hearing a reprise of his salty voice, handdrum percussion and rolling proto-samba rhythms on his classic from the early '70s Angola 72 (Tinder Records). Bringing full circle Brazil's debt to Angolan traditional beats is Preta Luz (Luaka Bop) by Waldemar Bastos. Bastos, who also contributed strong material to Afropea 3, fled political danger in Angola in 1973 and ultimately settled in Brazil where he has recorded with Chico Barque and Martinho da Vila. His first American release mixes the tang of soukous with the sweetness of samba, drawing on the Angolan semba rhythm and an edginess that continually refreshes the songs.