Although those with sharp eyes will have clocked the drummer on stage with Angélique Kidjo of late, he was part of the groundswell of musicians who came to prominence on the Smalls scene in New York in the mid-1990s. It's tempting to say that this work squares the circle between those two references but it is more accurate to argue that the music is really a reflection of the contiguity of a host of cultures in the Big Apple, the result of which is a cross-fertilisation of sounds, rhythmic sensibilities and ritual chants that draw liberally on American jazz, west African folk, Afro-Cuban son and Jamaican reggae. Despite its immense stylistic range and slew of stellar guests the coherent thread binding the nine tracks is a core unit of Freedman, trumpeter Avishai Cohen, keyboardist Jason Lindner, guitarist Lionel Loueke and bassist Meshell Ndegeocello. They have an invaluable chemistry. Above all, the understated yet forceful character of the drums-bass axis of Freedman and Ndegeocello is superb. Her felt-like, often muted, lines carry both the hypnosis of dub and the drive of funk while Freedman's phrasal subtleties are such that the whole low end is lithe without being insubstantial, and it's one of the reasons why the arrangements retain clarity as the percussion, horns and vocals arrive in differing layers.

Although there are stand out solos by Loueke and Mark Turner, this is a significant group statement that says as much about the cultural breadth of the New York music scene as it does its high technical standards. It is a melting pot of players from around the world and that has created a particular type of energy that Bamako By Bus successfully channels. The same could be said of some of the work done by such as Peter Apfelbaum, Josh Roseman and Barney McAll several years prior to the arrival of Freedman, and this is a fitting new chapter to a long running universal musical story made in America.