" data-original-title="" title="">Vernon Reid's Artificial Afrika

Slick and heavy electric forays characterize the work of veteran guitarist Vernon Reid. However far into space he goes, his instrument is always under control; usually, his music is as well. Artificial Afrika—featuring vocalist Akim Buddha Funk and DJ/percussionist Leon Lamont—was, however, a simmering, trippy stew of voodoo and multicolored mud. For all the mess, it was a wildly glorious experience. There were technical problems to start, with Reid's computerized hookup on the fritz, but he kept his cool as the technicians solved the glitch, and soon proceeded to unleash his odyssey.

On two screens behind stage, images with footage of old Africa blazed. "Africa, land of savagery and adventure," the type ran, followed by images of the people in sorrow in shallow waters with elephants. Then, a king in a litter—pulled in circles, at breakneck speed, by a horde of admiring subjects through the savanna. Hybrid rhythms of hip-hop and reggae raged, as Reid reined them in with searing, loping lyric lines, and Buddha Funk pranced around with a masque, singing shamanesque chants. The modulations were grand and lazily abrupt, as Reid led his unit in and out of psychedelic swamps. He ended by thanking his audience for auditing this "work in progress."