Hips and Afrobeat. That is the simplest way to describe Bill T. Jones’ new musical, FELA!. The show, or rather, the experience, which recently moved from off-Broadway to Broadway’s Eugene O’Neill Theatre, leaves the audience dancing into the streets of Manhattan.

The premise of the musical is simple. Fela Kuti, a famous Nigerian Afrobeat musician and political dissident, is performing his final concert at the Shrine, a nightclub situated within his autonomous compound, Kalakuta, in Lagos, Nigeria, and he worries that Nigerian authorities will shut it down. Fela recollects his life during his live performance, and the theater itself becomes the graffiti-covered, eye- (and hip-) popping Shrine. He relives his journey of shaping and creating Afrobeat music: a journey that brought him to America, where his wife teaches him the concept of Black Nationalism, and causes many disputes with the Nigerian government. Nigerian soldiers storm the compound only six months prior to this final show, assaulting his mother (which eventually led to her death) and raping many of his dancers. The journey ends with Fela placing his mother’s coffin on the capital building. The plot is illuminated through Fela’s witty banter and political song lyrics. Nevertheless, it manages to send a powerful political message: that one should fight against what is wrong in one’s own society.

The acting was most notable for the ensemble performances, with the cast members wildly gesticulating and reacting to Fela’s every word as though he were a godly character. Sahr Ngaujah’s performance as the late Kuti, with his mellow singing voice and imposing stage persence, made for a thoroughly authentic performance. Looking at video clips of Kuti’s live concerts, you realize how dead-on Ngaujah was. His subtly sexual dancing movements, his interactions with the dancers, his percussive singing voice, and even his blue sequin suits matched the late Fela Kuti’s perfectly. Due to his constant stage appearance—he is only offstage for two minutes of the show—Ngaujah, who played Fela in the off-Broadway production, performs five times a week, while Kevin Mambo appears in the show three times a week. In contrast, Mambo’s performance was more theatrical and passionate, but lacked some of the accuracy that Ngaujah’s performance had.

The real show-stealer, however, was Lillias White, in the role of Funmilayo Kuti, Fela’s mother. She kept a mystical presence throughout the show, haunting Fela with her intensely political comments from out in the risers. During her solo piece “Rain,” her voice cut through the theater like a knife, echoing off the walls and leaving the audience in silence.

However, the true allure of FELA! is neither the acting nor the plot itself, but the band and the dancing. The Afrobeat music drives the entire experience. It is a fusion of different musical styles: Yoruba chants, Gospel melodies, African lounge music, Bebop, Latin big band and Funk. The band was made up of members of the Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra, a group of young musicians from Brooklyn who play retro Afrobeat music (think of an Afrobeat version of the Daptones) and have emerged as representatives of a reconstructionist funk movement. The show really starts before the actors appear, when the band launches into blistering versions of Fela Kuti songs like “I Get No Eye For Back” and “Water Get No Enemy,” with Stuart Bogie, the masterful saxophone soloist, wailing and screeching over the grooves on his tenor sax. Throughout the show, it’s the band that keeps the audience dancing in the aisles with their endless grooves, funky guitar lines, soaring horn harmonies and rich Afro-Cuban percussion. Unlike most Broadway shows, the band is situated on stage, dancing along with Fela as they play, and giving the performance a more “live concert” feel.

The dancers, choreographed by Bill T. Jones, were also incredibly faithful to the dancing that Fela’s own dancers helped revolutionize. They were able to mix the exuberance and energy of African dance with the tight choreography of Broadway. His dancers, dressed in extravagant, colorful, skin-bearing costumes, romped around the stage, shaking their hips wildly and spinning their bodies like tops. But their meticulous timing, particularly with the band’s cues, was astonishing; they stopped on a dime when the band hit a note, and moved perfectly in time to the horn lines. This is a far cry from the pirouetting and leg kicking of other Broadway plays, and the dancers gave the play a unique character.

Despite the somewhat incoherent plot, FELA! is able to send an internationalist message of fighting against injustice and for what is right, regardless of societal circumstances. As Funmilayo’s coffin is carried up the steps of the Nigerian Capital building at the end, her coffin is added to a whole mountain of them, including those of Sean Bell and Martin Luther King.

The energy and vibrancy that this show generates is something truly rare to Broadway, let alone any stage. The dancing, the live band, and the atmosphere of the theater all combine to create a truly transcendental theater event. More than a Broadway show, FELA! is a unique experience.