Today's global hit takes us to a small club in downtown Cairo. But the music here is not what you'd call hip. It's a rural folk music called Zar. In fact, Zar might have disappeared in Egypt by now if it weren't for the club owner. He's devoted to keeping Zar music alive. Ursula Lindsey takes us to the club.

There's no stage and no microphones at club Makan. Only a few feet separate the players from the audience. People clap, sing along, and often get up to dance.

This is Zar music. It's based on poly-rythmic drumming. It's still played in East Africa as well some Arab Gulf countries. But here in Egypt it's disappearing.

Or as Ahmed Al Maghreby, the owner of Makan, puts it: Zar is in danger of extinction. A few years ago, he went on a search for anyone in Cairo who knew how to play Zar music. He didn't find many.

AL MAGHREBY: "We have only 24 people who knows this, who carries this legacy. So sometimes it's very difficult to find people. But I had the chance to find this treasure."

The 24 musicians Al Maghreby found and brought together performed Zar in the traditional way. They use the music to invoke healing spirits.

Kristina Nelson is a musicologist who's involved in helping to preserve Zar music. On a break at club Makan, Nelson sits outside. She says Zar has long been used as a therapeutic tool.

NELSON: "I went to a Zar in Sudan where they brought a young woman, every two weeks they brought her from the mental hospital for her therapy-it's the Zar. There were other people there as well. There was a young women who'd been blind and considered herself healed by the Zar process. And then there were a lot of people. I remember overhearing a woman on the bus saying: oh, I'm a little under the weather today, I think I'll got to the Zar."

But the rituals associated with Zar music have drawn criticism. And Zar performances have been attacked as backwards and un-Islamic.

They're also criticised because women typically run the show.

NELSON: "It's basically a woman-lead ritual. In fact in some Zar groups, the men are kept out of sight, if there are men in the troupe. Because the women...it's an escape valve, they let their hair down, the throw the scarves, they might tear the clothes, throw they bodies around, scream..They get to do all sorts of things that they don't get to do at home."

At Makan, the Zar night is dominated by lead singer Madiha. Madiha is a large, dark-skinned woman in her late fifties. She's decked out in a velvet gown, transparent black veil, and large amounts of gold jewelry. While she sings, she winks, smiles and flirts with the audience.

Zar songs all gradually build to a climax. The musicians drum faster and faster.

In Zar rituals, as the music reaches its peak, women dance themselves into a trance. Sometimes they end up collapsing on the ground.

But tonight, the music ends less dramatically, with clapping and a standing ovation.

After the show, the musicians gather outside.

Madiha explains that Zar is a family tradition.

MADIHA: "I learned this music from my mother, from my grandparents. I started when I was little, when I was eleven years old. I worked behind my mother, who as the lead singer. Then when I got older, because I had a nice voice, I started this work."

But none of Madiha's own children have chosen to follow in her footsteps. They don't see it as a stable or respectable way to make a living.

Zar as a ritual appears to be dieing out in Egypt. But thanks to club Makan, Zar music may just find a new life.