Lágbájá  Lágbájá (meaning "somebody, anybody, nobody in particular") from Nigeria was one of the most colorful performers of the weekend. Donned in brightly colored robes and a mask while blowing funky lines on his tenor sax, Lágbájá surrounded himself with sacred bata drummers, soulful vocalists, bass and drums to mix afro beat, juju, jazz, funk and rock into an exhilarating performance.

He has always worn a mask to obscure his identity and to "sing on behalf of Africa's faceless identity," giving the music a decidedly political bent in the spirit of Fela Kuti. At one point during the performance, Lágbájá asked for all cameras to be shut off as he would finally reveal himself to the world here at WOMAD. He slowly lifted the mask only to reveal another equally colorful mask.

Lágbájá's performance was nonstop full of powerful drumming, dancing and pure soul stomping funk. Their positive energy permeated the ecstatic crowd with ease sending a spiritual message of unity over individuality, we over me.  -Bill Wolford

Julien Jacob  I didn't know what to expect as I anticipated the Julien Jacob's set. I'd been given a promotional copy of his CD Shanti (Warner Bros. France--not yet available in the States) and it stayed in my player for at least a week afterwards. Subtle yet dynamic, guitar elements, organ, drums, and bass are carefully placed behind layers of Jacob's unique vocalizations, which are based on the vibration and sound of words. Jacob said, "It is a spiritual language" which I use to "try to touch the place of peace which is inside everybody. I say to everybody, 'Look, you have a place of peace inside you. And if you find it, peace can burn outside you.'"

Julien arrived in Seattle that morning just in time to play a 1:00pm set accompanied by only an acoustic guitarist, and drummer. It was immediately apparent that this would be a special hour of music. His humble appearance on the stage and big, bright smile immediately drew the audience in, then with a short silence began to utter the words for the first song setting the pace for the drummer (Alban Guillet) and guitarist (Bruno Pilloix) to join in.

I asked him whether it was by choice or by necessity that he played with such a minimal band, (his CD includes much fuller instrumentation) he said, "Yes it was my choice. I was looking for simplicity. I'm sure that life is simple and through my music I am looking for simplicity. In my band, nobody can hide."

And there was no reason for any of them to hide, the simple arrangements and stripped down grooves made room for the audience to be drawn in. Jacob is a master at creating space, so rather than trying to compensate for missing instruments, he broke things down even more so at times each individual band member would be independently holding the whole song together. In addition, Julien would bring dynamics down to a very low level and then break into a full band groove. It's this talent for creating space within the music that draws people in and involves listeners in the experience.

So often when I see live bands I'm bulldozed with an overwhelming wall of music at high decibel levels. Julien Jacob knows as well as any accomplished musician that it is the silence between notes that make the music come alive. And that is part of his message, to be conscious that you are alive. His final words to me in parting after our interview were, "Be Life."  -Bill Wolford

Peter Gabriel  WOMAD's final day held a promising end with a rare performance by Peter Gabriel, followed by the Afro Celt Sound System, the rising star of his Real World label.

The Sunday sun was fading as we returned to our blanket outpost in front of the Willowmoor Stage from a singalong with Yungchen Lhamo. The regal Tibetan singer had encouraged her audience to abandon its Western--and moreso Northwestern--reticence, and add a sustained "om" or "ah" to a collective chorus to be carried on the early evening breeze. She chided us to do better, and as the undertone became a resonant tune, her beautiful vocals floated over her choir. Music inspired music, dropping the boundary between audience and performer, needing no translator. It seemed the very essence of the festival.

When Gabriel stepped on stage, he was greeted with the day's largest and most grateful crowd. His hastily-arranged band performed nine songs that stretched across his career. There wasn't much really new or musically challenging in the set, but that didn't seem to bother the thousands of festival goers, who had spent the day sampling WOMAD's musical mélange.

Although Gabriel told non-profit radio station KEXP-FM in an interview that the band had only rehearsed twice, two of his core "stalwarts" backed him up: Tony Levin on bass, and David Rhodes on guitar. Gabriel led the band on keyboard. The "three bald men," as he wryly referred to them, were assisted by guest artists, including Gabriel's radiant 26-year-old daughter, Melanie, making her debut public performance on backup vocals.

As the set began with 1977's anthemic "Here Comes the Flood," it was great to hear that his plaintive voice is intact in an aging, balding, bulging body. (I took personal credit for the pleasure of that song, having requested it on his web site a week before the show, when he democratically allowed fans to choose his set.) Gabriel's muscular singing seemed to pull the band through songs such as this one, which on record relied on powerful music to punctuate his vocals.

The set jumped more than a decade forward, with popular songs from So and Us that delighted the multi-generational audience. "Red Rain," "Digging in the Dirt" and "Mercy Street" provided clear reminders of Gabriel's masterful ability to convey complex emotions. But it was "Come Talk to Me," with its undertones of a difficult parent-child relationship, that connected the listener to the odyssey of the man onstage, with his grown daughter by his side.

If it hadn't been for the aging frat boy behind me yelling repeatedly for "Big Time," the emotion of the moment would have really taken over. Instead, I joined the chorus once again, on the bright and inspiring "Solsbury Hill," also from his 1977 solo debut. The sentiment and the delivery were dust-free as the crowd joined in on every chorus of "Boom, boom, boom / Grab your things I've come to take you home."

A taste of Gabriel's more recent projects also arose, with the sepia-toned "Father, Son" from the OVO: Millennium Show album, part of a multi-media presentation that was staged in London to commemorate the new century.

International artists joined in Gabriel's set as well. The 10-man Zimbabwean vocal and dance group Imbizo brought energy and theatrics to the stage for "In Your Eyes," which also brought Gabriel out from behind his keyboards, however briefly.

Gabriel fans who found the set all too brief waited to hear him again during the last of the evening's confections, the international dance band Afro Celt Sound System, which Gabriel told KEXP was Real World's "house band." They had to hoof their way to the end of the set to hear Gabriel once again, as he joined the "tribal electronica" group on "When You're Falling," from the Afro Celts' new album, Volume 3 - Further in Time.

All that remained was to pick up a discounted sampler CD, unfortunately titled Womadness. With it in my possession, I could chant along with Yungchen Lhamo in the privacy of my own home or car. That is, when I'm not emoting to a Peter Gabriel disc.  -Bill Thorness