It’s been 10 years since the AIDS-related death of Fela Anikulapo Kuti, the legendary Nigerian saxophonist, singer, impresario, and political activist. But the musical style he pioneered in the 1960s and ’70s — a propulsive, politically potent fusion of funk, jazz, West African highlife, and Yoruba rhythms — may be more popular now than at any time during Fela’s life. Indeed, what he called “Afrobeat” has captured the imagination of various DJs, rappers, and African songsters, as the superb 2002 tribute album “Red Hot + Riot” made clear. More significant, a new generation of Afrobeat acts is packing concert venues worldwide. This week, New Yorkers have a chance to hear why.

The foremost Fela follower is his eldest son, Femi Kuti, 45, who will appear at Central Park SummerStage on Wednesday alongside his band, the Positive Force. (A documentary about Fela, “Music Is a Weapon,” will follow the performance.) Like his father, Femi creates music as infectious as it is explosive: Jazzy horns blare, polyrhythmic drums thump, vocals urgently denounce various forms of injustice and oppression, and all of it is underpinned by deep, intoxicating bass grooves.

Also like his father, Femi takes the stage with massive, energetic bands that tend to include a half-dozen horns, several drummers, and a team of frenetic, rump-shaking female backup singers. But Femi has also found considerable room for innovation within the contours of Afrobeat. His music, more tightly composed and less improvisational than his father’s, incorporates elements of hip-hop, reggae, and R&B. A new two-disc compilation, “The Definitive Collection,” epitomizes Femi’s version of Afrobeat at its best — and worst.

The first disc, a stellar retrospective of his first four albums, features such rarities as “Wonder Wonder,” a rousing track from Femi’s little-known 1995 debut, and “Ala Jalkoum,” a haunting, multilayered duet with rai superstar Rachid Taha, along with several outstanding tracks from Femi’s 2001 album “Fight To Win.”

It was with this latter group of carefully crafted, genre-bending songs, composed in the years following Fela’s death, that Femi stepped out from his father’s shadow while simultaneously upholding the best of the Kuti legacy.

The plaintive “’97,” for instance, features a deep dub bass line underneath Femi’s cri de coeur about the year of Fela’s death; “Do Your Best” showcases the rapper Mos Def rhyming over a frenetic saxdriven crescendo. “Traitors of Africa” indicts Nigeria’s corrupt governing class with funky horn riffs and hip-shaking cowbell rhythms: This is top-shelf revolutionary boogie, reminiscent of Fela’s classic, “Expensive S—.”

By contrast, the remixes that comprise the second disc are a pale rendition of the Kuti style. The DJs here tackle the unenviable task of improving on Femi’s groove by chopping up his songs and adding effects borrowed from dub and electronica. Given how hard Femi (not to mention his father) has labored to balance tradition and innovation in his music, it’s hard to stomach the catchall eclecticism of these mash-ups. Reverb-drenched synthesizer chords are a weak complement to highlife rhythms, and Femi’s politically conscious lyrics sound trite when spliced and sampled over disco-lounge beats.

Luckily for local fans, Femi won’t be playing remixes in Central Park. But it’s hard to see why he agreed to release such Afrobeat-lite efforts under his name.

To be sure, the task of building upon Fela’s imposing legacy leaves little room to maneuver — something made clear by the music of Femi’s younger brother, the 25-year-old Seun Kuti, who made his New York debut last week at S.O.B.’s. Playing alongside Fela’s old band, theEgypt80, Seun seems content to pay tribute to his father; he loyally replicates not only Fela’s singing and sax styles, but his dance moves (slinking), sex appeal (shirtless), and politics (peace, justice, and African unity).

Of the brothers, Femi has shown more capacity for innovation, but he’s far from a crossover artist; the man, afterall, reopened his father’s old Shrine nightclub in Lagos and performs there regularly. Besides, Afrobeat, a crossover genre itself, hardly needs to reach out to new audiences: Seun’s hyper-energetic act drew an estimated crowd of more than 100,000 people at the Montreal Jazzfest last week.

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That said, various Afrobeat disciples not named Kuti are expanding the genre’s boundaries with wonderful results. Leading the way is Nomo, an outfit from Ann Arbor, Mich., (yes, they met in college) that played a rousing show at Joe’s Pub last night. While keeping one foot in the realm of Afrobeat, the band ventures into soundscapes associated with such experimental jazz icons as Sun Ra and Miles Davis during his “Bitches Brew” period. Nomo’s astonishing 2006 album, “New Tones,” largely dispenses with vocals — and thus with the Kuti dynasty’s political preaching — in favor of loosely contrapuntal horn riffs, free jazz sax solos, layers of interwoven rhythmic effects, bouts of Indian chanting, and the occasional rock lick. Impeccably produced by the Detroit rocker Warren Dafever, Nomo’s music holds up equally well on stage. The band also put on an explosive, entrancing show last fall at Zébulon, an intimate Williamsburg venue that has become something of an Afrobeat hub.

Zébulon hosts a variety of under-the-radar Afrobeat acts, including Silo and the Afrofunk Experience, Akoya, and Asiko. None, however, can match the raw energy of Amayo’s Fu-Arkestra, which will perform there on Friday night. The band’s magnetic front man, Duke Amayo — keyboardist, singer, kung fu master, flamboyant dresser, and serial face-painter — is better known for his work with Antibalas, the 15-man band that has been exhausting local dancers with its charging Afrobeat for nearly a decade. (Another fascinating Antibalas side project is the Sway Machinery, which weds James Brown, the Clash, and Yiddish folk music.)

Like Nomo, Antibalas has ventured into uncharted territory of late: “Security,” released this spring, deconstructs much of the straight-ahead funkiness for which the band is known, combining dissonant riffs, bizarre cling-clang percussion patters, fist-clenched lyrics, anddirge-like movie-soundtrackinterludes. The Fu-Arkestra is less experimental (although it does include a cellist) and more inclined to launch into a 30-minute groove — so put on your dancing shoes.

Femi Kuti performs at SummerStage on Wednesday (Rumsey Playfield in Central Park, 212-360-2756). Amayo’s Fu-Arkestra performs at Zebulon on Friday at (258 Wythe Ave. at Metropolitan Avenue, Brooklyn, 718-218-6934).