A speech, then inclusive transcendence

Not too many singers can get away with opening a show with a sobering speech to the crowd. Ruben Blades did just that on Thursday at the Mayan Theatre, and his words, at first, weren’t exactly auspicious.

“I’m a musician, not a human CD player,” he said forcefully, chastising anyone foolish enough to expect him to launch into one of his signature salsa hits from the past.

Blades’ new album, “Mundo,” has precious little to do with the dance-friendly material that decades ago turned the Panamanian singer into one of the key figures in Latin music.

“Mundo” explores the common musical heritage that unites many cultures of the world. A kaleidoscopic blend of Afro-Caribbean, Celtic, Middle Eastern, Brazilian and African idioms, the album is richly ambitious. Although some of it lacks the infectious swing of Blades’ more celebrated works, it compensates with its lyricism and seasoned dexterity.

So, Blades emphasized in his speech at the Mayan, the centerpiece of the evening was “Mundo” and its pan-cultural message. The old favorites would be performed later. In other words: If you eat all your veggies, you can have some dessert.

Blades first showcased some of his collaborators. Costa Rican new-age group Editus, Brazilian vocal ensemble Boca Livre and Los Angeles-based Celtic musician Eric Rigler performed a few numbers that, without Blades’ unifying vision, did not rise above sounding pleasant. The audience clapped politely, if at all.

But then Blades launched into one of “Mundo’s” most powerful tracks: the anthem-like “Primogenio,” a bewitching collage of uilleann pipes, Middle Eastern atmospherics and Cuban guaguanco. Suddenly, Blades’ oh-so-intellectual discourse was animated by a fleshy, in-your-face sense of immediacy.

Then the singer lifted his stated rules and proceeded to spice up the three-hour show with dozens of vintage songs. The obligatory favorites, including “Plastico” and “Pedro Navaja,” were peppered with lesser-known gems such as “Camaleon,” “Todos Vuelven,” “Cuentas del Alma” and a rousing version of Willie Colon and Hector Lavoe’s Panamanian-themed oldie “La Murga.”

It was an embarrassment of riches, played by a rotating cast of musicians that at some points numbered 18. The quintessential sonero (a fierce, improvisation-friendly Afro-Caribbean singer), Blades has always transcended salsa by fusing the genre’s danceability with lyrics that paint a painfully vivid picture of Latin America’s larger-than-life sensibility.

Interspersed with the vintage hits, the occasional cut from “Mundo” sounded right at home.

It has taken Blades a while to establish the new sonic identity that flowers in “Mundo,” and in the process he received plenty of criticism. He was stubborn enough to stick to his vision, proving his detractors wrong while remaining an essential force in the impoverished landscape of contemporary Latin music.