Blind drummer Luisito Orbegoso practises with the 13-piece band Salsa Africa, which comprises some of Toronto's finest Latin, African and jazz musicians. (Dave Abel, Sun Media)

TORONTO - I'd like to think that only in the ethnic soup of Toronto would you find a Nigerian-Canadian who grew up speaking no Spanish, but who ends up a salsa singer and conga player with a Latin band, and leader of a Latin rap group.

Add to that resume a key role in a third group, one considered to be among the most diverse bands ever formed in this city.

Clearly, Yeti Ajasin's creativity knows no bounds.

Ajasin -- who heads both the salsa outfit Lady Son y Articulo Veinte and the live rap band Echo de Mano -- will be on Lula Lounge's stage tonight with a 13-strong band called Salsa Africa.

Comprising some of this city's finest Latin, African and jazz musicians, Salsa Africa was created not just to prove that we have a wealth of kick-ass players from those genres or to school us on the similarities between Latin and African music, but to help create connections between the diverse musical communities here.

Specifically, we're talking about the ones that frequent Lula Lounge, ground zero for good Latin music in this city.

Tracy Jenkins, the general manager of Lula, says that Jose Ortega, one of the club's co-owners, was "thinking about how lucky we at Lula are when we get a chance to hear amazing African music on a Thursday, followed by a top-notch Brazilian group on the Friday, then a world-class Cuban salsa orchestra on the Saturday.

"At Lula we do see a large group of people who will come out for any kind of music that looks like it will be good, but the majority come for a very specific type of music," Jenkins adds. "If the salseros come on a Friday when they are expecting salsa and find Brazilian or African, they're not happy. We hope that projects such as this one will encourage audiences to broaden their musical horizons."

In the context of the often endless talk of multiculturalism and tolerance we indulge in, or are assaulted with, this comes as a bit of shock. I mean, really, you'd figure that if someone's out on a Friday night to shake their ass, they wouldn't discriminate against a particular rhythm just because it isn't part of the lexicon of their favourite music.

Obviously, not all of us subscribe to that music-is-a-universal-language concept.

While Salsa Africa was created mainly with closed-minded punters in mind, it's also offering musicians an avenue that Jenkins and Ortega say doesn't exist.

On the club's website, Ortega writes that "although contemporary Latin and African music share many roots, there is not a lot of overlap in Toronto between the players or audiences for these musical forms."

The two recognize that one of the reasons that this lack of "overlap" exists is because

gigging musicians don't have the luxury of checking out other bands.

Jenkins points to one exception and calls him "one of our inspirations."

"There's a great young Cuban bass player named Yosur Rodrigez who shows up at Lula for almost any show. He just seems to be interested in all kinds of music.

"We want to encourage musicians to come out to hear one another. Jose has instituted a free-musicians Friday night, so that artists who play at Lula can come and hear each other perform for free," Jenkins adds. "The hope is that Lula will become a crucible for the creation of new sounds that only a city as diverse and culturally vibrant as Toronto could foster."

Salsa Africa epitomizes this and strengthens our reputation as a city where innovative world music is being made.

It also emphasizes the fact that Lula is not just a hot club.

As evidenced by its creative programming -- the week of the 18th features a dub poetry performance, an Indo-jazz band, the Haiti-Canada Student Solidarity Conference, an African dance ensemble and a performance by Cuban-born bandleader Roberto Linares Brown -- the Dundas W. spot has become a major contributor to Toronto's cultural life.