Goran Bregovic calls Gypsy music "a metaphor for that part of the soul that defies gravity." That sense of being transported describes the effect he has on fans - not only on his former Yugoslavian countrymen, who are able to dance and celebrate their shared Balkan heritage, but also on the audiences who have flocked to hear his concerts around the world. Currently on an eight-city North American tour, Goran Bregovic and the Wedding and Funeral Orchestra touch down at the Masonic Auditorium next Sunday.

This 19-member ensemble includes two female Bulgarian singers, a six-piece Gypsy brass band (including the mesmerizing singer and drummer Alen Ademovic), six male voices and a string quartet. Critics use words like "catharsis," "ecstatic" and "joyful" to describe the live experience, while others have called it "exciting tightrope walking" and "the most breathtaking music on the continent."

In an e-mail interview, Bregovic said that Gypsy music "speaks to our most profound needs. The Gypsies teach us about a traditional system of values when freedom was different and more precious than it is now."

Freedom seems to be an enduring pursuit of this half-Croatian, half-Serbian artist, who fell in love with rock music as a kid in Sarajevo. He has commented that "it was the only way we could make our voice heard and publicly express our discontent without risking jail." He speaks of his passion for Gypsies, who "started making music when there was no copyright and music was inherited. They still think that anything they like in music is theirs. They take it freely (and) think nothing of grafting a Spanish harmony onto a Turkish melody with an odd Bulgarian beat."

He also adores brass bands, which can perform a "poor man's opera that you can play at weddings and funerals." He relishes the fact that they will forever be barred from expensive restaurants - only getting in the door at cheap ones, where they can play for tips.

Bregovic, 59, studied violin briefly before turning to electric guitar, which he believed made him more attractive to girls; as a teenager, he played in strip bars - the only place during Communist times where one could experience "an escapade from life."

Abandoning his Marxist studies and the path to academia, he was part of the wildly popular band White Button, though he didn't perform much during the band's 15-year run because of the 90 percent Communist-era tax burden. Instead, he chose to spend time climbing mountains, sailing yachts and boxing. Fed up with extensive production needs such as amplification and lights, he retired from pure rock music, devoting more attention composing movie scores, working with filmmakers Emir Kusturica and Patrice Chéreau.

He is currently at work on "Orfeo di Bregovic," which will feature his current band as well as choir and orchestra.

Along the way, Bregovic has collaborated with artists as diverse as Iggy Pop and Cesária Évora. The international range of his collaborators comes naturally to this composer, who doesn't recognize barriers in the creation of music. "Good music from Iceland can become a hit in New Zealand, and Japanese gagaku can be appreciated because music was the first human language," he says. "This language is difficult to control by social and cultural codes because it preceded the existence of society and culture."

Bregovic's nonmusical life, however, has been defined by borders. "As for every person from Sarajevo, my life is divided into before and after the war," he says. When the violence broke out in 1991, he was in Paris, where he now lives with his Bosnian wife and family. Although "there are many mixed families in Serbia, mine lives in Paris because I am determined that my daughters will be French," he says. "It is too hard to love countries like mine, hard and complicated. Also, Paris is one of the rare places on earth where being Yugoslav does not imply that you have to be a pickpocket or a plumber. There it is possible to be Yugoslav and an artist."

But his music regularly brings him back to his homeland. "Since I am a local composer, I need to be located on territory where my music stems from - the Balkans, so I work in Belgrade, go spend time with my family in Paris and enjoy holidays in my house on the Adriatic Coast."

This tour coincides with Bregovic's first CD releases in North America, though his music is familiar to many from the "Borat" film. A live album, "Alkohol: Sljivovica & Champagne," was taped in 2007 in the Serbian town of Guca, which holds a world-renowned, alcohol-infused brass band contest each August. "Welcome to Goran Bregovic" is a best-of compilation, featuring songs like "Kalashnikov" (like the rifle), which has a sing-along chorus with the words "boom boom boom."

Ironic as those lyrics may be, Bregovic's concerts are places where people whose countries have been torn apart by war can gather to experience songs that can be electrifying one moment, melancholy the next. Yet the man seems inordinately calm, fitting one colleague's description of this rare artist as low key but highly charged. He seems to have maintained a sense of humor and modesty despite his considerable success.

Asked what he dreams about, he says: "When in my country we want to say that someone is greedy, asks for too much, we use the expression, 'Veal's head is not enough for a tomcat.' I think this tomcat is happy he got the veal's head. ... No dreaming, just getting on with life." {sbox}

Goran Bregovic and His Wedding and Funeral Orchestra play at 7 p.m. next Sun. at Masonic Center, 1111 California St., San Francisco. $20-$60. (866) 920-5299, www.sfjazz.org

Elena Park is a freelance writer. E-mail her at pinkletters@sfchronicle.com.