As if our debt to China weren't big enough, it turns out we also owe the Asian giant for inspiring Abigail Washburn, a true American original, to become a musician. It's a roundabout story. But you'll get the drift of it in her interview with SOUND TRACKS reporter Arun Rath, plus a sampling of her songs.

"Rise" is the title song on Seun Kuti and Egypt 80's new album. In the Fela tradition of Afrobeat, it's an angry song - protesting against corrupt leaders and corporations exploiting Africa's resources. It's also a big band tour de force, with echoes of James Brown and Miles Davis. Above all, it's a call to rise against injustice.

As a tribute to his father, Seun Kuti opens his concert with one of Fela's signature songs, "Zombie," a scathing indictment of the Nigerian army for blindly following repressive orders. This is Afrobeat at its most provocative written by a man who repeatedly challenged the military regime and paid the price in countless beatings and arrests.

We couldn't resist including this video clip of Seun Kuti, just before he took the stage at San Francisco's Regency Ballroom. It's only a moment, but it reveals another side of his personality - smiling, sleepy, a bit shy - right before he becomes a force of nature leading a volcanic band.

Seun apologized for being jet-lagged - those Europe to California hauls can wear you out - but he made time to talk with SOUND TRACKS reporter Mirissa Neff before his show at the Regency Ballroom in San Francisco.

"Uku" expresses an immigrant's longing for a world left behind. It casts a spell of nostalgia and regret. "The windy season makes me think of my village," sings Chhom Nimol. "I think of the old people, young people, aunts and uncles. We used to run and play, hide and seek. But now we are far apart. Far apart."

Dengue Fever performs "Gendjer Gendjer" in a back hallway at Amoeba Music in San Francisco. According to guitarist Zac Holtzman (who formed the band with his brother, Ethan, the keyboardist), the song was originally written during the Japanese occupation of Indonesia during World World II when food was so scarce that people resorted to eating Gendjer, a weed that grew in rice fields.

Zac Holtzman and Chhom Nimol are a memorable pair, to say the least. But after years of singing and touring together in their distinctive, tight-knit Dengue Fever band, they are clearly relaxed and comfortable in each other's company. Especially backstage at The Fillmore in San Francisco, where SOUND TRACKS reporter Mirissa Neff spoke with them after an ecstatic show they almost missed.

On stage at The Fillmore in San Francisco, Dengue Fever re-creates the atmosphere of a Phnom Penh nightclub in the '60s. There's a bouncy, innocent excitement to this song, "A Go Go." A song the band obviously loves to perform. Reminds us of Smokey Robinson and the Miracles' 1965 hit, "Going to a Go-Go," with a wonderful Cambodian twist.

Long Beach, California is now home to the largest Cambodian immigrant community in the United States in a district known as "Little Phnom Penh." Chhom Nimol moved there with her family in 2000 after leaving Thailand. In her new song, "Sister in the Radio," Nimol recalls the moment in her childhood exile in Thailand when she realized the sister her family had left behind was still alive.

We at SOUND TRACKS have loved Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings since we first heard their music. They've turned out four quality albums, including last year's "I Learned the Hard Way." But to really appreciate the excitement and precision of the band and the brassy, high-spirited personality of Jones, you've got to see them live. Next best thing: watch them on stage in this "Quick Hits" performance.

"How long?" shouts Charles Bradley, and it's like an electric shock, and an existential question. For Bradley, it's a question about all the world's woes, but it's also very personal. As Bradley tells SOUND TRACKS reporter Marco Werman in this "Quick Hits" interview, his moment in the sun has been a long time coming.

Sometimes a song is more than a song. It can be a confession, a cry from the heart, a catharsis. When Charles Bradley sings "Heartaches and Pain" on stage, it's a classic, old school, soul music performance. There's even a showy James Brown touch, with Bradley carrying the microphone stand on his shoulder as if it were his cross to bear. And hey, we all have our burdens, right?

The Queen of the soul music revival, Sharon Jones, now has a Soul Man, Charles Bradley, to back her up. "Quick Hits" found them backstage at the start of a tour, hanging out and cheering each other on. "Nothing retro about us," sasses Ms. Jones, "We're not imitating. When I open my mouth, soul comes out. Charles, too."

Helene Grimaud describes herself as an agitated and unpredictable child who found her salvation in music. Now on her latest album, "Resonances," Grimaud takes on the challenge of playing Liszt's Sonata in B minor, what she calls "a monumental quest." In New York, at Steinway Hall, Grimaud performed this excerpt for "Quick Hits."

Helene Grimaud describes her new album, "Resonances," as a musical tour through the old Austro-Hungarian Empire, from Mozart to Lizst to Bartok. In this concise, moving piece, performed for "Quick Hits," she captures the spirit of Romanian folk music that inspired Bartok.

Helene Grimaud is a risk-taker. She may appear ethereal, even fragile, but she has the will of a tiger, or should we say, wolf, the species she has chosen to protect at a sanctuary she founded in 1999 in South Salem, New York, about two hours north of Manhattan. In her "Quick Hits" interview with SOUND TRACKS, Grimaud describes her love of wolves, overcoming illness, and the magic of performing.

The guys in Ozomatli are old friends and it's obvious they're still having fun with their hard-charging, polyglot band. "Quick Hits" reporter Mirissa Neff caught up with them at a rehearsal on tour in San Francisco, where Wil-Dog Abers and Jiro Yamaguchi joined Uli in describing how strange it was to get a call from the Bush-era State Dept..

A glimpse of Ozomatli rehearsing a performance piece called "At the Edge of Urban Identity." It's a kind of history of the band, a ballad of Ozomatli, narrated by their friend Josh Kun, who they call "our resident smart guy," maybe because when he's not fronting Ozomatli he teaches music journalism at USC in downtown L.A. Segment presented by Sound Tracks: http://www.pbs.org/opb/soundtracks/

Live from the Fillmore, San Francisco's legendary concert hall, Ozomatli breaks into a rambunctious version of "La Gallina" (the chicken). With lead vocals by Raul Pachecho and some blistering horns - Asdru Sierra on trumpet and Ulises Bella on saxophone - it's irresistible dance music. Segment presented by Sound Tracks: http://www.pbs.org/opb/soundtracks/