On Music Mondays, GBH’s All Things Considered drops the needle for our ‘Turntable’ series and checks in with a GBH music aficionado to hear what’s on their playlist.

This week, The World host Marco Werman joined GBH’s All Things Considered host Arun Rath to listen to music from around the globe. What follows is a lightly edited transcript of their conversation.

Arun Rath: Marco, good to see you in the flesh.

Marco Werman: Good to see you too, Arun.

Rath: So, what do you have for us first?

Werman: I’d like to start off by remembering the groundbreaking pianist, composer and bandleader who channeled Latin sounds from Cuba, Puerto Rico and Colombia into this thing called salsa, invented in his neighborhood of Spanish Harlem, New York City.

I’m speaking, of course, about Eddie Palmieri, who died last month. He was actually one of the first musical guests on “The World”. I want to say this is, like, 1999 or 2000. He’s just the sweetest person, absolutely charming. He sat at the piano in the old GBH studio and spoke to me, and played music.

I mean, just listen to this little moment where I asked him to break down some Latin styles, like mambo, guajira, son and cha-cha-cha.

Eddie Palmieri: That was in the cha-cha movement, we would be … Cha-cha-cha, cha-cha-cha … And one of the orchestras that made it very, very popular was the charango orchestras, like Orquesta Aragón in those years, Orquesta América. The gentleman from Orquesta América, Enrique Jorrín, was the creator of the cha-cha-cha. These are Cuban orchestras that were before the revolution — before 1960 — the orchestras that were coming out of Cuba.

Werman: I mean… Amazing.

Rath: That’s awesome.

Werman: Just sitting there with Eddie Palmieri, and he’s, like, just having a chat with me and playing the piano.

I’d like to go back to the early days of Eddie Palmieri’s career when his first ensembles were really packing in the dancers at places like the Palladium in New York City in the early to mid-60s.

Eddie’s compositions and arrangements showed, really, a man who was in bandleader mode and would lead the musicians from the keyboard. As for that sound, Eddie Palmieri was definitely horns and brass-forward — kind of a bandleader right from the beginning.

I’d like us to listen to something a little outside his usual style, a bossa nova standard, and many people know he covered this on one of his first albums, called “Mambo Con Conga Is Mozambique”, a reference to the innate connection between Latin music and Africa.

We’ve got Ismael Quintana on vocals here, and as was the case with many Palmieri arrangements, his piano underpins the song. But it was horns up-front here — you’ve got dual trombones of Barry Rogers and Jose Rodrigues. Check this out.

[“Manha de Carnaval” — Eddie Palmieri]

Rath: That is just … I mean, just that tone up and down, the whole range of the instrument — I could just soak that up forever. Maybe call that “trombone madness.”

Werman: Yeah, “El Terror de los Trombones,” as they called Barry Rogers back in the day. I mean, there are many great versions of “Manha De Carnaval,” but I gotta say, I think this is my favorite.

Rath: I’ve never heard that before, Marco. That is fantastic, thank you for that! What do you have next?

Werman: Well, it’s a very different vibe, but connected, shall we say — strangely — also through the Caribbean. This is a quirky little duo from Estonia [that] we featured recently on “The World”. They are called Puuluup, and despite the fact that I don’t understand the Estonian language, I was totally seduced by this track that came out about five years ago. It’s called “Käpapuu.”

I tried to translate the lyrics through Google Translate, but it did not come out well, aside from words like “pasta” and “bye-bye”. I’m afraid I can’t help in interpreting the song. All you have to know here are four words: Estonian reggae in dub.

[“Kapapuu” — Puuluup]

Rath: This is awesome, Marco. I mean, awesomely weird in all the best ways. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite like that.

Werman: I come back to it again and again, strangely. It’s infectious — again, I don’t understand the lyrics, but it just feels like a nice little blanket on you.

Rath: Yeah, it feels like the words don’t matter.

Werman: Yeah, exactly.

Rath: And does that bring us to your final selection?

Werman: I’ve got a couple of things here for you as I’ve been reflecting on the 20th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. I traveled to New Orleans in 2013 — eight years after the storm — to do a story on how Dutch engineers were advising city planners on actually living with water in the city, as they do in the Netherlands, and what it takes to plan for that. But as a long-time music journalist, I also took the opportunity to tell some more music stories while I was there.

The legendary pianist and songwriter, Allen Toussaint — who is no longer with us — was the man I wanted to meet. The author of many great tunes: “Mother-in-Law,” “Working in the Coal Mine”, “Yes We Can Can.” It was a dream come true. I sat in the living room of Allen Toussaint’s house near Lake Pontchartrain, and he serenaded me on his piano.

I’ve got two songs from Toussaint: The first one is a new twist that Allen Toussaint put on an old boisterous composition, called “Tipitina and Me” by New Orleans legend Professor Longhair. Allen Toussaint reimagined the song post-Katrina in a minor key, reflecting the dark mood in the city.

[“Tipitina and Me” by Professor Longhair — Allen Toussaint cover]

Rath: That’s pretty profound. I remember this, Marco, when you did it, and wow. That really does bring back the moods. I can’t believe it was 12 years ago now that you were back there, in 2013.

Werman: I actually played this song a summer or so after it came out. It was at night, I was living in Cambridge, and the song was coming out of the window. It was a warm night, and the downstairs neighbor was just enchanted, [asking] “What is that?” It was really the perfect soundtrack for an evening.

I want to leave you with a different, more upbeat mood though, Arun, from the late Allen Toussaint. Four years after Katrina, he put out a solo album called “The Bright Mississippi”, which really embraced the joy of sounds that New Orleans is known for. So let’s go out with … Again, thinking of you, Arun, and your love of horns and that you’re a trumpet player.

This is the standard “Singin’ the Blues.” You’ve got Allen Toussaint on piano, a great bunch of session players, including Don Byron on clarinet, Marc Ribot on guitar, and the terrific Nicholas Payton on trumpet, who just cooks on this number.

[“Singin’ the Blues” — Allen Toussaint]

Werman: Dude, if I am in a bad mood, this is the antidote. It is slinky, it is sexy, and it makes me happy every time I hear it.

Rath: It’s impossible not to smile. I challenge anyone not to smile while listening to this. I mean, it makes me smile so broadly my face hurts.

Werman: If I made your earworm today, you’re welcome.