Ever since being brought to global renown thanks to Paul Simon featuring their distinctive vocals and exhilarating dance moves on the landmark 'Graceland' album and tour, South Africa's Ladysmith Black Mambazo have routinely made recordings and concert appearances with some pretty notable figures, from George Clinton to Stevie Wonder to Michael Jackson to Dolly Parton. They even "collaborated" with Bach and Mozart on 2006's 'No Boundaries.' It's something of a signature -- and one that has kept the group's international profile relatively high and helped win two Grammy Awards and several other nominations.

No surprise, then, that another prominent name dominates Ladysmith's new album. But it's not a pop star. It's Shaka Zulu, a near-mythical hero of South Africa, the warrior who in the late 1700s united the Zulus with other tribes into a cohesive nation. The album, 'Ilembe: Honoring Shaka Zulu,' bristles with the sense of history and cultural pride associated with the name, though with songs that touch on the current political divisiveness ('Let's Do It'), the perils of personal weaknesses ('Umon Usuk Esweni,' which means "jealous eyes") and spiritual touchstones ('Prince of Peace,' somehow managing to weave Jesus' message of peace with Shaka Zulu's warrior spirit).

"Shaka Zulu was the king," says Thamsanqa Shabalala, son of Ladysmith founder and leader Joseph Shambalala and designated heir to the ensemble's helm. "We wanted to remind people of the Zulu Nation that he was a king who wanted to unite people, bring people together. My father, they all grow up knowing there was a king called Shaka. Even at school they were taught it. The songs are all traditional and all dedicated for King Shaka."

And the project came not for the demands of the worldwide stage the group has occupied but at the behest of family and friends at home. "They asked Mambazo to go back to tradition," he says. "They said, 'Go back to tradition. Do traditional music with Mambazo only.' All our friends, they missed the old style. 'Please, just you only now.' "

And that's what it is, no guests or instrumental accompaniment, just the close-harmony Isicathamiya chant-singing -- rooted in the singing of blacks forced in to rough labor in mines -- that arrested so many around the world when heard driving Simon's 'Homeless' and 'Diamonds on the Soles of Their Shoes,' both co-written by Joseph Shabalala.

Ironically, the move to satisfy the South African fans could serve the group well on the international front. Interest today in cultural roots is arguably higher than ever, and Mambazo, as the popularizer if not originator of this South African sound, should be able to trade on the purity of their sound as much as they have been able to benefit for their star associations. The orchestra-backed 'No Boundaries' gave new twists to the approach, but the multi-star format of last year's 'Long Walk to Freedom' (African artists Zap Mama, Lucky Dube and Hugh Masakela, as well as some less-than-satisfying pairings with Natalie Merchant, Sarah McLachlan and Melissa Etheridge) waters down the group's true strengths. Reasserting those might not be a bad way for the younger Shabalala, now at 33 a 14-year veteran of the group, to forge his own legacy of leadership. And there are at least superficial parallels with the early success of Mambazo and with the embrace at home of the new album, at least in terms of the public's input.

"When my father started in 1964, he saw there was something that needed to be done with this music and that changed everything, the different harmony," he says. "People didn't know where it came from. But people in South Africa said, 'You must record! We want to hear you' "

The ensemble had been routinely dominating the singing competition circuit to the point that it was asked to perform at events but not allowed to enter the contests in order to give others a chance. By the time of the first recording in 1972 -- with apartheid still at full force, of course -- the sound was part of the fabric of black South African culture. In fact, before Simon's collaborations, Mambazo had become somewhat old-fashioned as new trends emerged, but the 'Graceland' spotlight reinforced the group's role in the society, and it became both a voice for South African pride and unity, and the group itself became ambassadors for the culture in the West. And Mambazo was embraced as a crucial element by the top figures in the effort to overthrown the racist regime -- including one who rivals Shaka Zulu among the countries leaders.

"Our hero, Nelson Mandela, when he came out of prison, he said he wants Mambazo to be there," Thamsanqa says. "When they get there, he says, 'Your music helped me while in jail.' Mambazo was surprised. 'Mandela knows us! He's talking about music!' That was a great thing. Music is important."

And, with the album honoring an earlier hero, he believes music remains just as important. "Mambazo sings the culture, reminds the people of their culture," he says. "Our mission is to protect the culture of love, peace and harmony throughout the world."

As for his role in history, the eventual heir makes no declarations and defers to another hero of his. "I haven't given it much thought for now," he says. "Still looking up to my father. Still learning from him."