Ozomatli take their name from the Aztec god of dance and, judging by the praise being poured on them at this year's Womad it doesn't seem too immodest a comparison.
A thorough mish-mash of cultures, much of their delivery is reminiscent of an Eighties gogo band, although this is far from true of the content of their set.
Consisting of LA residents with African, Chicano, Cuban, Japanese, Filipino and Jewish backgrounds, Ozomatli plunder dance music traditions from wherever they find them, be it in ska, samba, hip hop or even punk.
The band's line-up is impressive to watch. Aping the traditions of P-Funk, and before that James Brown, all eight members dart around, with the brass dominating stage left and guitarist, rappers and percussionist's stage right.
The large line-up also slots into the big band traditions of Africa and Latin America, and on tracks such as 'Cumbia, Cumbia' the stage becomes a hive of frazzling energy as Latin America dissolves into Central America and the Caribbean - Jamaica being represented by thudding dub bass-lines.
Their internationally inspired, multi-cultural dance music is delivered without the assistance of digital machinery, but it clearly aims to replicate the DJ experience, so, like go go, the music and action continues non-stop throughout the performance.
Hip hop's stall is set out by Kanetic MC (who shares his time with his other band, the Jurassic 5), who switches between light hearted audience instruction to the occasional understated political commentary.
"This concept of war," he interjects at one stage over the top of an Arabic-inspired clarinet melody, "We don't believe in that. We believe in Love. If you believe in peace then come along with us."
This statement is followed by a surreal moment when the band raise their arms and start rocking from side to side and soon the entire audience is swaying like a row of poorly tethered Bedouin tents in a tornado.
It's a sublime set made all the more successful by stage tricks, such as their arrival on the stage via a procession through the audience (another Central American tradition) and a percussion gourd being juggled like a baseball.
But as slick and rehearsed as the performance is, the highlights are always unexpected.
At the end of the set the musicians suddenly pick up the more portable instruments and head into the audience, which by this point is so dense it's only just possible to create a channel for the band to progress through.
Having reached the center of the dance floor Ozomatli stop and somehow momentarily get people to sit down before slowly enticing them back to their feet in time to the beats.
Having joined the party on the dance floor the band continue to pump out African rhythms while prompting the crowd to sing acapela with a burst of a brass line from a piece of popular music or children's TV theme tune.
At one point this has the field erupting into the chorus of 'Sesame Street' while bouncing around to African four four beats. For a second time, and in a suitably different way, the puppets' theme tune has been turned into a dance anthem.
