I have a band in Beijing, Woodie Alan. The moniker is a joke, reflecting my name and that of my Chinese partner, Woodie Wu, but the group is not. In fact, much to my surprise, I am fronting a pretty happening little band.

I never could have pulled this off back home. I owe my success as a gigging musician, however far it goes, to being an expat. Moving here and re-establishing my identity has allowed me to redefine myself, casting off old insecurities and pursuing a reality I always envisioned but didn't quite know how to achieve. In this, I am not alone.

Many people find that expat life allows them to liberate themselves from the accumulated reputation and history that can come to define you. Everyone plays an established role with his or her families and old friends, and moving somewhere new gives you an opportunity to reboot. Expats may also be more willing to give something new a try; after all if you've traded Milwaukee for Beijing, why not try your hand at fronting a band, or running a bar, or riding a motorcycle?

Woodie Alan plays regularly at The Stone Boat, inside Ritan Park, within one of the city's Embassy districts. The little bar is actually a stone boat and sits on a lake with a small stage extending over the water and tables spread along the banks, a surprisingly serene, pastoral setting right in the middle of downtown Beijing.

American expat Jonathan Ansfield and his wife run the Stone Boat. Jonathan is a journalist and blogger, contributing to Newsweek and other publications and Web sites. Now he is also a bar proprietor and a small-scale Beijing music impresario, booking performers for free shows three nights a week during the warmer months.

'It's an out of body experience -- certainly nothing I ever did or would have done had I stayed in America,' he says. 'I've always loved music and spent a lot of time going to clubs and seeing bands in college, but I can't see how I ever would have ended up booking bands had I stayed in the U.S. But I've been into the Beijing music scene since I got here [over 10 years ago] so it's something I really enjoy.'

It's manifestly easier to realize some goals here than it would be in the U.S. American Jonathan Anderson, now an analyst for the investment bank UBS, fronted blues bands in Moscow in the early '90s and in Beijing at the end of that decade. In this city he co-founded the Rhythm Dogs with some of the city's finest musicians, including key members of the Cui Jian Band, China's first significant rockers.

'I'm a mediocre harmonica player and a worse guitarist but I had my pick of incredible musicians,' says Mr. Anderson. 'With some vision, drive and hard work, anything was possible. It was like living out a fantasy. The quality of the guys I played with was head and shoulders above what I could have rated at home. It was like walking in and gigging with Led Zeppelin and that just doesn't happen in a more developed market.'

Kaiser Kuo has a similar story. He moved to Beijing in 1988, formed the hard rock band Tang Dynasty in 1989, put out an album in 1990 and was touring all over the country by 1991. After returning to the University of Arizona to pursue a doctorate in East Asian Studies, Mr. Kuo found himself daydreaming about Chinese rock stardom and eventually quit school to return to Beijing. He rejoined Tang Dynasty and was soon performing in 35,000-seat stadiums. Now overseeing digital strategy for Ogilvy and Mather's Beijing office, Mr. Kuo still performs regularly with his band Chunqiu.

'I can sit in a guitar store in the U.S. and hear 10 guys who smoke me in just an hour but here I am,' says Mr. Kuo. 'For me, this could only have happened in China.'

My story fits the same pattern. I met Woodie when he repaired a guitar for me. He heard I was a longtime editor for Guitar World magazine and became very interested in chatting, which quickly led to jamming together; the same news would have induced a shrug from a good guitar repairman back in the states. Saxophonist Dave Loevinger, who is the U.S. Treasury Department representative in Beijing, played for years with the great Washington, D.C., party band Jimi Smooth and Hittime. Had we met at home, it's unlikely he would have been interested in forming a band, but newly relocated to Beijing, he was excited to find a musical outlet.

When a nearby restaurant asked me to host an open mic, the three of us got together, with an initial repertoire consisting of whatever I could sing without cringing. We've come a long way since then, thanks largely to my growing confidence -- the other guys were already good. We have a unique sound, with most of the solos coming from Dave's soulful sax and Woodie's mournful lap steel guitar, an unusual instrument which figures prominently in American country and blues music. I have always loved slide guitar, but it never occurred to me that my first chance to play with a great lap steel player would come in Beijing, with an amiable Chinese guy bearing a tattoo of Stevie Ray Vaughan, one of my favorite blues guitarists.

We played with a couple of different bassists and drummers before settling on the young, easygoing Chinese pros who play with Woodie in another band as well. Since adding them, we've become more and more of a real band. In two weeks we are headlining one of Beijing's top rock clubs, and we're talking to an agent about booking some out-of-town festivals.

Pretty soon, we may even live up to the bragging motto I made up for our posters and Web site: 'Beijing's premier blues and jam band.'

Though it feels like the most natural thing in the world, our mix of Chinese and expat musicians is unusual; most bands around here feature one or the other. In fact, Woodie used to play regularly with most of the current members of a popular band, but when they formed this group they made it clear that they felt they could get better gigs if they had no Chinese members.

It's their loss; not only are they missing out on a great guitarist but also on moments of unforced cultural exchange that can be hard to come by. I have gained a new understanding of the lyrics of songs I've sung for years by explaining their meaning to my band mates, two of whom speak no English. And one of the unanticipated benefits of the band has been an opportunity to get a little deeper into local life, sharing meals, beers and downtime with my new Chinese friends and their wives, girlfriends, cousins and buddies.

Dave wants us to change our name and it's true that the humor doesn't really translate to a Chinese audience, but they view it as a straight-forward description: the Woodie and Alan band. It is also a reminder of our humble beginnings. Something can be funny without being a joke, and this band will never reach the point where I don't see the humor in it.

我在北京組建了一支樂(lè)隊(duì)，名為Woodie Alan。這個(gè)名字是個(gè)玩笑（譯者注：Woodie Alan與美國(guó)知名電影導(dǎo)演伍迪•艾倫(Woody Allen)發(fā)音相同。），是我跟我的中國(guó)搭檔Woodie Wu的名字組合，但我們的樂(lè)隊(duì)可不是玩笑。事實(shí)上，我所領(lǐng)銜的是一支很不錯(cuò)的即興小樂(lè)隊(duì)，這一點(diǎn)連我自己也感到驚訝。

Woodie Alan樂(lè)隊(duì)成員要是在美國(guó)，我絕不可能做到這一點(diǎn)。我將自己能成為一名樂(lè)手──不管能做到什么地步──歸功于背井離鄉(xiāng)。移居此地、重新建立自己身份的過(guò)程讓我重新認(rèn)識(shí)了自己，擺脫了以前的不安全感，追求我一直想像但并不知道該如何實(shí)現(xiàn)的生活。在這點(diǎn)上，并非只有我一個(gè)人是如此。

許多人發(fā)現(xiàn)海外生活能夠把自己從原先的名聲和過(guò)往中解脫出來(lái)，那些東西可能會(huì)束縛你。每個(gè)人在自己的家庭和老朋友中間都扮演著固定的角色，而移居新地可以讓你有機(jī)會(huì)過(guò)新的生活。移居外國(guó)的人也會(huì)更愿意嘗試新事物；畢竟如果你都從密爾沃基搬到了北京，那干嘛不試試去當(dāng)個(gè)樂(lè)隊(duì)領(lǐng)唱，或是開(kāi)間酒吧，抑或騎騎摩托車？

Woodie Alan樂(lè)隊(duì)定期在北京使館區(qū)日壇公園內(nèi)的“石舫”酒吧(The Stone Boat)演出。這個(gè)小酒吧其實(shí)就是一條石舫，位于湖中，小小的舞臺(tái)伸展到水面上，桌子則散布在岸邊。地處北京市區(qū)中心地帶，這里卻是一幅難得的幽靜田園風(fēng)光。

經(jīng)營(yíng)石舫酒吧的是來(lái)自美國(guó)的喬納森•安斯菲爾德(Jonathan Ansfield )和他的妻子。喬納森是新聞?dòng)浾吆筒┛妥髡?，為《新聞周刊?Newsweek)及其他出版物和網(wǎng)站撰稿?，F(xiàn)在他又經(jīng)營(yíng)酒吧，同時(shí)還是一位小型音樂(lè)制作人。天氣暖和的時(shí)候，他每周預(yù)約表演者進(jìn)行三個(gè)晚上的免費(fèi)演出。

“這真是意想不到的經(jīng)歷──在美國(guó)，我從來(lái)沒(méi)有也絕對(duì)不會(huì)做這樣的事，”喬納森說(shuō)?！拔乙恢睈?ài)好音樂(lè)，大學(xué)時(shí)經(jīng)常去酒吧、看樂(lè)隊(duì)表演，但如果我留在美國(guó)，絕不會(huì)有自己去預(yù)約樂(lè)隊(duì)的一天?？勺詮奈遥ㄊ嗄昵埃﹣?lái)到這里，我就進(jìn)入了北京的音樂(lè)圈，我真的很開(kāi)心?！?/P>

在這里顯然比在美國(guó)更容易實(shí)現(xiàn)某些目標(biāo)。美國(guó)人喬納森•安德森(Jonathan Anderson)現(xiàn)在是瑞士銀行(UBS)的分析師，上世紀(jì)90年代早期和晚期他分別在莫斯科和北京擔(dān)任樂(lè)隊(duì)領(lǐng)唱。在北京，他與幾位才華出眾的音樂(lè)人共同組建了“節(jié)奏之犬”(Rhythm Dogs)樂(lè)隊(duì)，其中包括中國(guó)首批出色的搖滾樂(lè)手──崔健樂(lè)隊(duì)中的主力成員。

“我只是個(gè)馬馬虎虎的口琴演奏者和不怎么樣的吉他手，但我挑選出了一群令人贊嘆的音樂(lè)人，”安德森說(shuō)?！爸灰醒哿?、有干勁并付出努力，就沒(méi)有不可能的事。這一切就好像夢(mèng)想成真。我的這些搭檔，他們的演奏水平遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)超出我在美國(guó)時(shí)的想像。簡(jiǎn)直就像輕輕松松地與齊柏林飛艇(Led Zeppelin)一起演奏，這即便是在音樂(lè)發(fā)展更為成熟的地方，也不是件容易的事?！?/P>

郭怡廣也有類似的經(jīng)歷。他1988年來(lái)到北京，次年參與成立了“唐朝”樂(lè)隊(duì)，并于1990年發(fā)行了專輯，之后到1991年期間都在全國(guó)巡回演出。當(dāng)郭怡廣回到亞利桑那大學(xué)(University of Arizona)攻讀東亞研究專業(yè)的博士學(xué)位后，他感到自己仍然朝思暮想著中國(guó)的搖滾樂(lè)同伴們，于是退學(xué)回到北京重新加入唐朝，不久后他就和樂(lè)隊(duì)在一座能容納3.5萬(wàn)名觀眾的大型體育場(chǎng)登臺(tái)演出了。郭怡廣現(xiàn)擔(dān)任奧美集團(tuán)(Ogilvy and Mather)駐北京的數(shù)字戰(zhàn)略總監(jiān)，并且現(xiàn)在仍然定期參加他組建的“春秋”樂(lè)隊(duì)演出。

郭怡廣稱：“在美國(guó)一個(gè)吉他店里，一小時(shí)內(nèi)能聽(tīng)到10個(gè)人提起我的名字，但我還是回到了中國(guó)；只有在中國(guó)才能成就我的今天?！?/P>

我的經(jīng)歷也很相似。我與Woodie是在他為我修理吉他時(shí)相識(shí)的。他聽(tīng)說(shuō)我是《吉他世界》(Guitar World)的資深編輯，于是就饒有興趣地與我攀談起來(lái)，而且我倆很快就打成了一片。而如果在美國(guó)，一位好的吉他修理師在知道我是誰(shuí)后恐怕只會(huì)聳聳肩。美國(guó)財(cái)政部駐華代表洛文杰(Dave Loevinger)是位薩克斯演奏家，他是華盛頓特區(qū)的著名老牌樂(lè)隊(duì)Jimi Smooth & Hittime的元老。假設(shè)我倆是在美國(guó)相識(shí)，他是不大可能有意和我組建一支樂(lè)隊(duì)的，但由于他最近剛被派駐到了北京，他很高興能找到音樂(lè)上的知音。

后來(lái)附近一家餐館邀請(qǐng)我主持一次歌會(huì)，我們?nèi)司鸵黄鹪谶@次“處女秀”中大大方方地唱了所有會(huì)唱的歌。在此之后我們?nèi)〉昧撕艽蟮倪M(jìn)步，這主要是因?yàn)槲业男判脑絹?lái)越足，而其他人本身就非常優(yōu)秀。我們?yōu)橛^眾營(yíng)造了獨(dú)一無(wú)二的音樂(lè)氛圍，獨(dú)奏部分主要由洛文杰深情款款的薩克斯和Woodie委婉憂傷的鋼棒吉他演奏組成。鋼棒吉他是一種非同尋常的樂(lè)器，在美國(guó)鄉(xiāng)村樂(lè)和藍(lán)調(diào)音樂(lè)中的地位舉足輕重?；艏恢笔俏业淖類?ài)，不過(guò)我從未想過(guò)自己與一位偉大鋼棒吉他演奏家的首次合作竟然是在北京，同臺(tái)的還有一位和藹可親的中國(guó)小伙子，他身上紋著史提夫•瑞旺(Stevie Ray Vaughan)的刺青，而瑞旺正是我最喜歡的一位藍(lán)調(diào)吉他演奏家。

我們先后與好幾位貝斯手和鼓手搭檔過(guò)，最后定下來(lái)的是兩位隨和的中國(guó)專業(yè)樂(lè)手，他們還與Woodie合作為其他一些樂(lè)隊(duì)演奏。隨著新成員的加入，我們?cè)絹?lái)越像一支真正的樂(lè)隊(duì)了。兩周后，我們將在北京最火的一家搖滾俱樂(lè)部里擔(dān)綱主演，而且現(xiàn)在我們正同一家經(jīng)紀(jì)公司預(yù)約有關(guān)參加外地音樂(lè)節(jié)演出的事宜。

不久之后，我們可能真的能實(shí)現(xiàn)我在海報(bào)和網(wǎng)站上放出的豪言壯語(yǔ)：“北京優(yōu)秀的布魯斯樂(lè)隊(duì)”。

雖然看似水到渠成，但像我們這樣由中國(guó)人和老外“混搭”的樂(lè)隊(duì)卻不多見(jiàn)。我們周圍絕大多數(shù)樂(lè)隊(duì)要么是清一色國(guó)人，要么是百分之百老外。實(shí)際上Woodie過(guò)去曾和某支流行樂(lè)隊(duì)的多數(shù)成員有過(guò)定期合作，但當(dāng)后者成立這支樂(lè)隊(duì)時(shí)，他們明確表示如果沒(méi)有中國(guó)人在內(nèi)樂(lè)隊(duì)會(huì)磨合得更好。

對(duì)那些人來(lái)說(shuō)這絕對(duì)是個(gè)損失，他們不但錯(cuò)過(guò)了一位優(yōu)秀的吉他手，也與那種純粹自然狀態(tài)下的文化交流失之交臂，而這種機(jī)會(huì)實(shí)在是可遇不可求。以一首我之前已經(jīng)哼唱多年的抒情歌曲為例，在我向隊(duì)友們解釋這首歌曲的意思時(shí)，我對(duì)歌詞又有了新的領(lǐng)悟。組建這支樂(lè)隊(duì)還有一個(gè)原來(lái)意想不到的好處，那就是我們可以更深入地了解中國(guó)人的生活，我與這些新朋友，還有他們的妻子、女友及朋友兄弟們一起吃飯喝酒，共享快樂(lè)時(shí)光。

洛文杰建議我們把樂(lè)隊(duì)的名字改一改；中國(guó)本地聽(tīng)眾的確是無(wú)法真正理解其中的幽默，不過(guò)他們覺(jué)得“伍迪和艾倫樂(lè)隊(duì)”相當(dāng)直白：就是伍迪和艾倫的樂(lè)隊(duì)唄。這個(gè)名字也時(shí)刻提醒我們，這支樂(lè)隊(duì)一開(kāi)始是多么不起眼。有些東西即使不用玩笑的方式也會(huì)讓人覺(jué)得開(kāi)心，而這支樂(lè)隊(duì)會(huì)永遠(yuǎn)帶給我快樂(lè)。

更多信息請(qǐng)查看英語(yǔ)美文寫(xiě)作