Most studio projects by the iconic Cameroonian-born, Brooklyn-based singer and bassist Richard Bona have a story to tell, a concept to embrace, and this one is no exception. An exploration of Cuban music's African roots, it kicks off with a rollicking opener sung in Lingala, a language of the Congo, which suggests a journey begun. Then comes the upbeat ‘Bilongo’, an Afro-Cuban standard – all reverse clavé and quirky phrasing – previously recorded by the likes of Tito Puente and Eddie Palmieri. Here and elsewhere, Bona and his Nuyorican crew, especially the Valdés-like pianist Paredes, deliver chewy salsa rhythms. But it's on the more Africanised tracks – ‘Ngul Mekon’, say, or ‘Muntula Moto’ – that Bona really shines, offsetting dexterous playing on everything from bass guitar to electric sitar with a voice that stirs, scats and soars.

Jazzwise spoke to Richard Bona about the album

Why Cuba?

I felt like tracing some of my roots. I get to travel a lot. Cuba's one of those places where I see the connection with where I come from. That music is about five centuries old, a real combination of what we call ‘fusion’. It's partly from the Spanish who came there earlier. From Chinese slaves. African slaves. The Indians who originally lived there.

How much do you feel a responsibility to remind people of this legacy?

It's my duty. I don't need history books. You can see the history of an instrument just by looking at it. Chinese trumpet… Maracas, they're Indian. Hand drums, that's African right there. Sure, you can trace the bass back through other instruments like banjo, mandolin, lute, but I'm talking about Cuba here.

Cuba has some amazing music schools… You grew up making your own instruments, watching and learning…

That's just one part of Cuba. Sure, because of the political stance they had those schools. But another thing the government did was to preserve traditional music, the cultural heritage. These musicians come out of the conservatories and know how to play anything, most of all to play to make people dance. Here in Europe, if you're a pianist and a cellist, you're classical or you're not. It's too specialised. In Cuba they play everything – salsa, classical, jazz. They're still learning about jazz.

Let's talk about your album,Heritage?

I make a record to tell myself a story. Something that lives. The first time I went to Cuba, around 1999, this guy recognises me at the airport in Havana, I don't know how, and takes me to a jam session. I don't know anybody. He was like: ‘Everybody, this is Richard Bona, Zawinul, Pastorius, you know?’. The first song we started playing was ‘Bilongo’. My welcome to the island.

Tell me about the opener, ‘Aka Lingala Té’?

This is a departure song, the kind they'd sing in the Congo when the slavers picked people up. Not everyone viewed slavery as a bad thing, initially. It was trade, a new business. So I'm singing like a guy who has sat down and doesn't know where he is going, except on a journey.

Let's talk about jazz.

I don't want to talk about jazz! I want to talk about music in general! Joe and Jaco were definitely mentors of mine, and I grew up listening to their music, but jazz is just one dimension to me, you know? It's all music.

You have the ability to watch any music and learn it…

As a kid I'd tell people this and they didn't believe me. I'd been watching this German tourist play saxophone, he gave it to me and I started playing. He thought I was a saxophone player. I was just born with this natural gift.

I can watch and my brain just understands the musical mechanism, or whatever it is. Stuff I don't like just passes me by.