Moroccan musicians are using traditional sounds fused with international styles to preserve threatened cultures.
At 5 a.m. on Labor Day, central Brooklyn is filled with hundreds of thousands of revelers who have been partying all night long. It is unlike any other morning in New York City: groups of tar-covered youth roam the streets dressed as devils with chains and whips, while older people shimmy in frilly masquerade costumes of the colonial era.
If the end of the music industry is near, musicians in one country are already on a path to survival.
The Haitian radio scene in New York is booming, but it is forced to operate on the margins, between stations with stronger signals — and FCC licenses.
South Africa's effort to create a more equal society between black and white is being led by musicians.
Life in Mali is only now returning to normal, after violence erupted a couple years ago. But Mali's musicians already knew what to do when times got tough.
The country's north feels it's long been neglected. Other regions feel the same way. People from all across met at the Festival Sur le Niger to air their grievances, but not fight about them.
Afropop returned to Mali and found traditional and contemporary music thriving at the Festival Acoustik de Bamako, in Mali's capital.
As the weather gets colder, it's time for some choice Brazilian music. Jesse Brent at Afropop Worldwide takes on a decade of funky gems.
Nashville moved toward Reeves' sound in the 1960s, then moved on. Africa's most populous nation remains in his corner.