It requires a populist faith bordering on lunacy to believe that someone who sings exclusively in Spanish will be able to "cross over" in Eighties America. But the possibility of cross-over continues to dominate discussions of Rubén Blades' music, creating misunderstandings about what this ambitious Panamanian is trying to achieve and fueling commercial expectations that can only lead to his artistic successes being perceived as failures.

Rather than reducing his Latin heritage to consumable clichés, Blades has chosen to broaden the vocabulary of salsa by introducing elements from rock, jazz, pop, soul, funk and folk music. The final product – best exemplified by 1984's stunning Buscando América and this even more accomplished follow-up, Escenas – outrages purists of every stripe, but it embodies the most exciting form of fusion since Miles Davis stirred up his Bitches Brew.

As its title suggests, Escenas ("Scenes") expresses a more diverse, impressionistic vision than the wrenching political soul-searching that formed the conceptual center of Buscando América ("Searching for America"). Blades' political and moral concerns are again evident on such tracks as "Tierra Dura" ("Hard Land"), a brooding meditation on starvation in Ethiopia, and the rhythmically infectious "Muévete" ("Move On"), a third-world call to arms written by Juan Formell. But more personal themes emerge on "Cuentas del Alma" ("Heart Dues"), in which a swinging chorus and a jazzy piano solo edgily counterpoint the painful tale of Blades' mother's abandonment by his father, and the heart-rending "Silencios" ("Silences"), in which Linda Ronstadt and Blades join in exquisite harmony to chronicle a couple who are beginning to learn that "to live in silences is another way of dying."

On Escenas, Blades' band, Seis del Solar ("Six from the Tenement"), constructs a sound that pulls its rhythmic power from the percussive textures that drive traditional Latin music, but synthesizers (including a guest solo by Joe Jackson on one track) give these seven tunes their decidedly contemporary feel. And Blades' literary chops – ranging from the delicate emotional observations of "Silencios" to the Brecht-in-the-barrio drama of "Sorpresas" ("Surprises") – lend each of the songs a definition and resonance that recall the best recent Latin American fiction.

Both Latin and Anglo audiences need to jettison preconceptions to engage music as challenging as Escenas. Blades is pandering to no one – and that's exactly why, whichever side of the crossover you're on, it's worth making the effort to get to him. (RS 466)

ANTHONY DECURTIS