By Andrew Gilbert
TIMES CORRESPONDENT

If Boubacar Traore's music reminds you of the Delta blues, it's not just because he hails from the West African nation of Mali, a country with strong ties to African-American culture.

Traore has lived an itinerant bluesman's life, full of unspeakable hardship. Once his nation's most celebrated musician, he fell into obscurity so deep that when he appeared on Malian TV in the late 1980s many viewers were shocked to discover he was still alive.

But in the past decade, Traore has reclaimed his mantle as one of post-colonial West Africa's musical patriarchs. Revered by his fellow Malian musicians Habib Koite played on his 1999 album "Macire" (Indigo), and Ali Farka Toure carries his guitar as a sign of respect when they hang out Traore has slowly made inroads in Europe and North America.

As part of an extensive U.S. tour, Traore appears at Yoshi's on Monday with percussionist Kandiamoudou "Pedro" Kouyate, who is also featured on Traore's beautiful new album, "Kongo Magni" (World Village). Traore performs on guitar and vocals in the duo, accompanied by Kouyate on calabash, the gourdlike percussion instrument with the distinctive, hollow clippity-clop sound that propels much traditional music from Mali, Guinea and Ivory Coast.

Traore's songs, which he sings in Bambara and Saraakole, dwell on death, longing and love, swinging between tender sentiments and a harsh, weary fatalism. One can discern the influences of Otis Redding, James Brown and John Lee Hooker in his music, which blends the traditional Malian sound of the Khassonke tradition with Cuban son and American soul and blues. His voice is weathered and penetrating, conveying a deep, sustaining spirituality.

Given the travails of his life, Traore has had to depend a good deal on his faith. In the years after Mali attained independence from France in 1960, Traore's dance number "Mali Twist" played on the state-run radio every morning, making the 21- year-old guitarist a national hero. The tune was an optimistic exhortation, calling on Malians to return home and build their country, a desperately poor but proud, landlocked nation that was once home to the great West African empires of Ghana and the Mandinka.

"I was really writing songs for my country," said Traore, 63, in French from Mali's capital Bamako in response to questions faxed to him. "As we got independence, there was so much excitement."

He was known affectionately across the country as Kar Kar, meaning one who dribbles the ball too much, a nickname that stuck from his days as a soccer star. While his songs were played constantly on the radio, Traore received no royalties and could never support himself through music, instead working as farmer, a tailor and a laborer.

By the 1970s, he had moved back to his hometown of Kayes in the Bambara region near the border with Senegal to take care of his parents. By the time he appeared on Malian TV in 1987, he was widely thought to be dead. On the verge of re-establishing himself, tragedy struck when his wife, Pierette, died shortly after two of their seven children passed away.

"My heart was full of bitterness," Traore told Belgian-born travel writer Lieve Joris in her superb book "Mali Blues" (Lonely Planet), which includes a long chapter on her efforts to unravel the story behind his wife's death. "Everyone thought I would go crazy. I'd never been able to earn money playing music. I thought I would try another way."

Moving to Paris, Traore worked in construction and played music on weekends with other African musicians. When a producer for the British label Stern's heard a tape of Traore on the radio, he sent someone to find him in Mali, only to discover that Traore lived two blocks away in Paris.

His music has been planed down to the essentials, with his incantatory melodies propelled by his dexterously latticed guitar lines. A Jonathan Demme-produced documentary, "Je Chantal Pour Toi" (I will sing for you), ex ploring Troare's life is due out soon on DVD, which is likely to enhance the fame of the Malian troubadour. With six haunting albums under his belt, Traore now lives in Bamako with his second wife and six children, a full-time musician honored both at home and abroad.  

PREVIEW

WHO: Boubacar Traore

WHEN: 8 and 10 p.m. Monday

WHERE: Yoshi's, 510 Embarcadero West, Oakland

HOW MUCH: $10 - 16

CONTACT: 510-238-9200, www.yoshis.com