Colombia has a seemingly limitless supply of traditional music ready to reinvigorate pop. Juanes has been mining the rhythms of his hometown Medellin and wowing crowds worldwide — making him one of the biggest-selling Spanish-language stars and earning him an official proclamation of Juanes Day in Los Angeles when his current La Vida World Tour stopped in the City of Angels last week.

Carlos Vives and, to a lesser extent, Shakira rocked up the rhythms of the Colombian coast and valleys before him. (Right about now, Colombia-philes are getting ready to complain about the lack of historical precision in these first two paragraphs. Stop! Colombia has too many rhythms and too many regions to explain in a quick blog entry. Look elsewhere for a detailed discussion of cumbia, vallenato, etc.).

Now Adriana Lucia is offering up another pop/folklore fusion, drawing from the music of her native province, Cordoba, Colombia. Porro Nuevo (New Porro) delivers exactly what it promises, a new version of the hip-twitching African-Indian-Spanish dance groove from the Colombia coast usually played with clarinets and big drums. She also throws in other coastal rhythms, like la champeta, which sounds a lot like West African soukous.

To make it new, Lucia enlisted Vives and his longtime collaborator, Andres Castro, as producers. I had the great fortune to hear a set of songs from the album Thursday night. As might happen at a house party (or "parranda") on Colombia's Caribbean coast, the 24-year-old singer set up on a dock, accompanied by Castro, and performed for a small group of well-wishers. As the sky turned rose, passing boats stopped to listen in.

Lucia quickly kicked off her high heels, which kept getting stuck in the cracks on the dock as she danced, and switched back and forth between sharing tidbits about country life in Cordoba and belting out fresh variations on songs for cowherding and drinking the thick, corn-meal drink chicha.

While Castro played lilting arpeggios and snappy beats, Lucia sang age-old country truths like "what you loved before/is what you hate now" and more folksy sentiments, like a love song for a fruit vendor carrying her wares on her head.

My favorite moment, after the sun had disappeared and the water of Biscayne Bay turned from blue to black, was when an audience member reminded Lucia of her promise to sing pure (not pop) cowherding calls at the end of the show.

Lucia is tiny, not much above five feet. She has the charisma and stage presence of a young woman who has been center stage (with her family's folk troupe) since she could walk and talk. As she belted out her pleas to the cattle to move along, sprinkled with little poems, such as "the breeze wears me out, but the soul never gets tired," I could almost imagine a herd roaming the tony streets of Key Biscayne.