WOMAD has built up a well-earned reputation for consistently bringing together the hottest talents from all corners of the globe and this year was no exception. 

A particular highlight was Cigdem Aslan. A Turkish singer specialising in the “rembetika” tradition of Turkish-Greek music and her band (double bass, violin, kanoun and percussion) create a particularly danceable and uplifting take on the genre. 

Given that rembetika (which she calls the “blues of the Aegean”) is known largely for its sorrowful songs of tragedy and pain and complex rhythmic arrangements, this is no mean feat. 

All five musicians (and guest bouzouki player) are masters of their arts. The fingers of kanoun player Nikos Baimpas move across his instrument with an agility and dexterity that is matched only by a depth of feeling that makes your spine tingle, while Cigdem is a captivating presence with a extraordinarily dynamic and versatile voice.

Womad is also a great place for discovering new fusions. Songhai Blues, for example — a Malian band playing what can only be described as desert indie rock — while Vinicio Capossela and the Post Office Band sound at times like Nick Cave fronting the Gypsy Kings. 

But the finest this year was Cuban jazz pianist Roberto Fonseca’s set with Malian singer Fatoumata Diawara. 

Their set combines pounding rhythms with all the melodic inventiveness of the greatest jazz, all played with an astonishing energy and passion. 

The kora is played in a fast and furious style I have never before witnessed, while the guitarist tears up his solo in a genre probably most accurately termed Afrobilly. 

Their second number, a song for war children growing up with genetic deformities, is an intense piece of life-affirming joy, based around a superstition-esque riff played on a keyboard being pounded as if it were a rack of djembes — but other pieces are slower and more laidback, reminiscent of some of Buena Vista bassplayer Cachaito Lopez’s solo work. 

Ethiopia’s Mulatu Astake is a legendary name for the followers of the funky 1970s Ethiopian sound that he largely created, and his set shows that, now into his seventies, he is still on top form. 

For those who don’t know, Astake’s unique take on jazz combines James Brown-style breakbeats, basslines and guitar licks with haunting vibraphone atmospherics and punchy brass harmonies on the Ethiopian scale. 

His set is crafted in a way that gives the players — not least Mulatu himself — the space to really soar and shine, taking the audience on a journey in the way that true jazz is all about. 

Indeed, one track sounds almost like a homage to all the most out-there groundbreaking jazz pianists of the last half century, with the ecstatic flourishes of Alice Coltrane and Abdullah Ibrahim slowly transforming into the space-age warbling of Sun Ra — all atop a deliciously pulsating percussive groove. 

You would be hard pushed to find a finer music festival than this. 

GEORGE FOGARTY