The Rokia Traoré concert at the Somerville Theatre last Friday was a real live example of what Christian Lander, author of blog and book “Stuff White People Like,” has been talking about in his ongoing list about the white middle class.

The Somerville Theatre was packed with a decidedly middle-aged Caucasian audience who seemed to be all dressed up, with a notable lack of irony, for #118—Ugly Sweater Parties.

Traoré, a bluesy artist from Mali who sings in a combination of French, English and Bambara, took the stage to the quiet, but appreciative audience (a man in row J brought binoculars). Traoré mostly performed songs from her latest CD, “Tchamantché,” which is her first release in five years and has received much critical acclaim.

“Tchamantche” marks a shift in style for Traoré, who based her new sound around the classic Gretsch electric guitar popular in the 50s and 60s.

With music that fits into neither Western nor Malian categories, Traoré’s varied choice of instruments was fitting. Two guitars and a traditional drum set gave the music a more Western feel, while the n’goni, or African lute, and vocalist Naba Traoré added more traditionally African sounds.

The well-traveled daughter of a diplomat, Traoré composes music that reflects her diverse influences. One of the most successful instances of this integration was her rendition of the Billie Holiday song “The Man I Love,” in which she adapted both lyrically and melodically.

Traoré also incorporated funny ditties that she learned as a child into her performance.

Traoré is a natural performer who spontaneously beams and breaks into languid dance as she sings. Her songs start off slowly but pick up momentum as she and her band members start to sway back and forth with enthusiasm.

In one of her songs, “Zen,” Traoré croons, “Oh, que je suis zen,” before belting the same lyrics as the song intensifies. Even as she insisted on her relaxed demeanor, the moment proved that Traoré was naturally unable to contain her passion.

Noting that it had been at times a “quiet show,” Traoré encouraged the audience to stand up and dance along with her. At first, the audience was reluctant (#67—Standing Still at Concerts) but they soon got into the music, some even head-banging. At this point the songs picked up in tempo, and Traoré opened up to the audience.

As the concert was the day before Valentine’s Day, she serenaded the audience with sweet songs of young love. The audience responded in kind, laughing at her stories and intentionally cheesy lyrics.

While Traoré’s endearing performance was often light-hearted, some of her work has a serious tone. She paused before singing “Tounka” to express her reasons for writing it. “I would prefer to see Africa more respected...like a rich country,” she said. “Tounka” explains that “migration can’t be a solution.”

It was getting late for the senior citizens of Somerville, about 10:30, so Traoré wrapped things up. While I don’t recommend attending such a concert for another twenty years or so, those exiting the theater seemed pleased with their experience. After all, who doesn’t like #7—Diversity?

Of course, there is much more to Traoré’s music than this simple reduction. With her accessible melodies and infectious personality, Traoré certainly has an appeal for those under 40. College students take note or else African music will remain just another stereotyped interest waiting to be put on “Stuff White People Like.”