World music poses unique challenges. By definition it's without limit, a genre beyond genre, unbound by provincial conventions. In too many cases this spaciousness tempts artists down trails of vague inspiration, forcing them to compensate with glistening production and artifacts plundered from cultures along the way.

For some artists, such as Peter Gabriel, passion and genius have provided shelter from these distractions. Paul Simon hasn't done quite as well; some of his earlier experiments reflect a dilettante mentality -- a sprinkle of zydeco here, some township jive there. It's taken him a while, but on You're the One Simon succeeds, by building the music around his artistry rather than being dazzled again by the bells and baubles of distant lands.

Not that diversity is lacking here, but more than on previous albums Simon puts it into a persuasive context. On the opening track, "That's Where I Belong," over a bed of broad African rhythms, his voice floats in and out of falsetto, riding a feathery melody through words that celebrate the spirit in music. And where he once was content to mimeograph this or that style, he now balances disparate fragments, as on "Darling Lorraine," a beautifully sad rumination enhanced by celeste, shimmering African guitar, and cello.

In the hushed modal vocals of the title track, in the blue-note mantra and Ganges drone of "Quiet," in the fatalistic humor of the rockabilly-driven "Old" and the poignant images of "Love" and the slapstick cynicism of "Pigs, Sheep and Wolves," Simon flaunts undiminished lyrical gifts and rejuvenated vocal powers. No other singer, not even his former partner, can match Simon's marriage of intelligence, quiet ecstasy, intimacy, and sheer musicality. But then, few are able to work with this kind of material. It's official: Simon is the one.