I was once chastised for listening to Fela Kuti. There wasn’t any good reason for it, but there was some vague mention of world music being lame.

Music geeqs need to take umbrage with such a statement. The term ‘world music,’ obviously construed by some westerner, seeks to encompass all non-Anglo based musics under a single banner. Absurd. Fela Kuti has very little to do with Burning Spear, but there’s unquestionably a number of record stores where browsers are going to find the Afro-funk band leader sitting in the same bin as that reggae stalwart. Not only is that unfair and damnably disconcerting, but it discredits each man’s work.

Whether it’s true or not, a record set down by the Master Musicians of Jajouka has been referred to as the first ‘world music album to be released.’ Hopefully, there’re folks beyond just myself who feel sick at such a notion. There are countless singles and 78s floating around that predate that album by at least half a century. The pervasive snobbery of Western (music) folk is astounding. But so too is the recent fascination with African and Middle Eastern musics.

The flirtation that Brits and Americans have with these aforementioned cultures stems, in part, from various colonizing efforts, as sad as that seems. But exposure to different cultures usually finds one appropriating the other. There are some benefits, of course, but the subjugated don’t always get a chance at a real recovery.

Regardless, though, the spate of African funk compilations is matched in number only by      the interest afforded the Master Musicians of Jajouka subsequent to a tour of the states about a year ago.

The group, now led by Bachir Attar, the son of its previous orchestrator, was initially exposed to Western audiences through the efforts of a few strung out Beats and an ill-fated Brian Jones, the Rolling Stones’ first guitar player.

With an evolving group of players enlisted to perform, the Master Musicians of Jajouka are a tradition as old as the city that they live in. The group’s a cultural phenomena, to be certain. But the deference afforded the ensemble seems odd and even miscalculated.

On the groups awkwardly titled disc - The Master Musicians of Jajouka Featuring Bachir Attar – the album’s name sake leads the ensemble through a spate of traditional musics that should, for all intents and purposes, prove delightful to your parent’s left wing, hippie friends who also enjoy Ladysmith Black Mambazo. That’s not meant as a slight, but really, to get into the serpentine horns and insistent drumming takes a bit of work.

What’s troubling, though, is some of the electronic music that gets shoved into this traditional palette. “Above The Moon” is particularly bothersome with production noises taking up more room on the track then acoustic instruments. The move could be seen as the Master Musicians of Jajouka working to endear themselves to a broader audience. And probably the demographic that would be roped into checking this ensemble out in the first place is going to be pleased by these explorations of cross cultural pollination. Unfortunately, it sounds like a better idea than what it winds up being.