About 10 years ago, Peter Gabriel predicted that world music, the music of the world’s uncounted, infinitely varied cultures, would be the music of the future, displacing the stagnating Western forms of rock and pop. Despite the brave stand of Gabriel’s Realworld label, and its American counterpart Putumayo, this prediction has yet to be fulfilled (though the stagnation theory still holds true). Anyone who saw Habib Koité and Thomas Mapfumo, two giants of African music, perform to a hugely appreciative crowd in the wood-panelled decorum of Sanders theater will know that this says much more about the parochialism of Western music buyers than anything about the immense talent that the world, and Africa in particular, has to offer.

Mapfumo is something of a national treasure in Zimbabwe, where he grew up listening to bands like the Beatles and Elvis Presley, and began to play guitar with the aim of being a rock and roll star. As his social awareness grew—and the country moved towards civil war in its struggle for freedom—he became more interested in local music, eventually synthesizing his two interests into a new, entirely Zimbabwean sound that was called Chimurenga music after the historic name of the liberation struggle. This music uses traditional elements, but transposes them onto more Western instruments; thus the rolling 6/8 rhythms of the mbira, or thumb piano, become arpeggiated guitar patterns, and the high-pitched shakers are replaced with energetic high-hat work. Mapfumo’s band, the appropriately named Blacks Unlimited, usually numbers around 20, with guitarists, an energetic horn section, mbira players, percussionists and a barrage of backing girls deliver an awe-inspiring show that maintains its roots in the spiritual musical tradition of the country.

All of this contributed to Mapfumo’s performance at Sanders, which, organized by Boston’s own World Music, was a very poignant affair. Forced out of the country after his last album cut too close to the bone in its criticism of the current government, Mapfumo and his band are now permanently based in the U.S., although only three members of the band were able to perform with him. Stripped of his rich accompaniment, Mapfumo’s rich, expressive voice came across almost plaintively, particularly when he sang, “Makuona here kuti mukomana akatorwa?” (“Did you see that our brother was taken?”) Not all the songs were so mournful: Mapfumo introduced one song about the depredations of alcohol, and how drinking too much had once made him hit his mother-in-law.

Koité could not have provided a bigger contrast. Despite referring to Mapfumo as, “My elder brother,” Koité—a relative newcomer in West African music compared to superstars such as Baba Maal or Salif Keita—comes from a new generation of African musicians. The sound of Koité’s band escalated as each member arrived on stage and added their instruments to the burgeoning sound before Koité himself arrived and added his high-octane acoustic guitar playing and stunningly pure, flexible voice to the mix. After that, the energy barely let up as the band segued effortlessly from one song to the next, and many of the audience members were forced into the back aisles in an attempt to find space to dance. Song highlights included “Wassiye” and “Fatima,” both of which were considerably more energetic than their studio takes, as well as Koité’s original hit, “Cigarette Abana,” a cheerful anti-cigarette song that first brought Koité international recognition. Afer a 90-minute set, Koité came running through the audience to serenade the dancing audience members. Each member of the band came forward to solo, which further increased the exhilaration as each musician demonstrated levels of virtuosity that might have put the sacred Dave Matthews Band to shame. The marimba player even segued into a brief but soulful snatch of “Summertime” while the rest of the band accompanied in admirable deadpan. Walking out after the long standing ovation, it was hard to escape the feeling that these performers could rival anything that Western music has to offer.