By Bob Tarte

I recently received an e-mail from my good friend and fellow Beat columnist Dave Hucker, threatening to drag me in front of the International Web Crimes Tribunal at the Hague unless I added his recent "Hey Mr. Music" installments to my technobeat.com Web site. And by "recent," he was referring to the fact that I hadn't updated the site since 2003.

Remarkably, despite the dearth of any material post-dating the break-up of the Beatles, the "Technobeat" Web site still received between 1832 and 2681 hits per day this month -- which made me wonder how much traffic I might get if I actually caught up the content. But content wasn't the only problem. I designed the site late last century in the days before large monitors became the norm. So it also needed a more modem look that replaced the postage stamp-size area I'd reserved for text and graphics to a window you could view without resorting to scanning electron microscopy.

By the time you read this, I should have finished the reconstruction. That is, if Mr. Hucker, who egged me on to update in the first place, gets around to sending me the info he wants on his home page. Otherwise, I have no choice but to drag him in front of the Internet division of Interpol. All of this I do simply to serve the public -- and also with the hope of pointing more traffic toward my bobtarte.com Web site and selling copies of my two books, Enslaved by Ducks and Fowl Weather, which every reader of this magazine should immediately buy.

Check out the site, which includes all "Technobeat" columns since 1990 and all "Hey Mr. Music" columns since 1997, and let me know what you think of the new design. You can e-mail me at r.tarte@att.net and Uncle Huck at huckero@ btintemet.com.

I'm not sure anyone makes more engaging music than Habib Koite. Afriki (Cumbancha) has the smooth flow and hushed grace of samba, plus the drive and rich instrumentation of Malian styles. The largely acoustic tack with echoes of American blues suggests Koite's late countryman, Ali Farka Toure, but without that great performer's essential rough edges. While I appreciate the soft glide of a typically thoughtful approach, Afriki leaves me hungry for music with a more direct connection to the deep emotions that elevate world music over most mainstream pop. But on "N'ba," for crying out loud, Habib breaks into a whistle mid-song, just like Bing Crosby on "White Chritstmas." This is one laid-back dude. What he lacks with his manicured roots approach he certainly gains in accessibility. Try topping the good vibes spread by balafon, talking drum and harmonica on "Africa." That same balafon meshes perfectly with his pearly guitar picking on "Mali Ba," which finds him singing with passion and traces of fire. I was hoping for more of that fire, though. Or at least a persistent smolder.