By Philip Booth Bubbling, exotic sounds à la the beer-bottle percussion bookending Herbie Hancock’s 1973 version of “Watermelon Man”; banks of tightly clustered keyboards a bit reminiscent of Joe Zawinul; wordless vocals deployed on a catchy sing-song melody; call-and-response passages; West Indian percussion courtesy of guest Mamadouba “Mimo” Camara; snatches of sampled speech—the aptly titled “Marco and Mimo” feels something like unexpectedly wandering onto a late-night Afro-Caribbean beach party, one where the contours of the music are unpredictable and the dancing is likely to continue unt…