从民谣到摇滚，从摇滚到爵士，张思安，这位来自法国的音乐实验者，不同于其以往地推出了自己的一张电音专辑，Electronic Music For Chinese Restaurants 。从2000年张思安第一次到中国，已经十二年了，Chinese Restaurants已经不再是作为“外国人”眼中的概念。他绝不是为中国餐馆量身打造音乐，而是在展现一种认知，判断，甚至是讽刺。就像是专辑里的一首曲子，Inverse Mass, 反过来的。

那不仅仅是吃串儿喝啤酒的地方，中国人的千姿百态都发生在餐馆里。签合约，谈生意，陪老板，宿醉，见老友，表白，分手，然后再移步到卡拉OK，你可以在那里体验到人间百味，尝到酸甜苦辣。就像这张专辑，融汇了不同的口味风格。

张思安是个随性的音乐人，在舞台上表演什么要看自己的心情，感觉到了就对了。专辑的风格似乎也是如此，感觉在哪里，下一个一音符就在哪里，心情怎么样，节拍就怎么样。

这个把自己丢入文化大熔炉的法国音乐人，六岁的时候跟随父母从秘鲁回到法国，会说两国语言的他在受到同学排挤的同时也发现了自己的与众不同。他最初的梦想是做个发明家，像他爸爸一样。于是，有一天，他成为了一名音乐发明家，中文名字叫张思安，法文名字叫巴赫。

从世界末日到童话故事，人们的耳语间民谣吉他混搭着电音，像是深思熟虑的穿梭于城市间，又走到了悬崖边。突然，转到下一曲，一个中国女孩像三句半一样给你讲了一个故事，科学家找到了小姑娘，听起来那么的无厘头，却又残酷而真实。 之后，你又会在土豆泥里听到熟悉的老北京茶馆里的弦音，以及越来越强的“波光电影”。

云南即兴把人们带进丽江小道，角落里的民族酒吧，原离景区的喧嚣，一首循环播放的曲子，配上一杯自酿的米酒。音符里我看到张思安在中国行走的脚步，走走停停间，谱出的旋律。

像他自己说的，“我会把每天学到的新东西都放进音乐里。”他看起来本该是个初学者，很简单的中国元素，很普通的生活细节，但又因为被他放进了音乐里，所以变得与众不同。又因为这些元素细节被我们遗忘或是忽略，所以显得震耳欲聋。

他喜欢尝试各种新的东西，像他小时候的梦想一样。你要听听方便面这首歌，节拍好似弯曲的面饼，电音与中国音乐的结合，像是讽刺这舶来品的代表，以及背后城市生活。

这张专辑是在他北京的家里录的，没有多少好用的设备，便宜的声卡，普通的苹果电脑，简陋的麦克风。他唯一的要求是，请听者戴上耳机，或者插上扬声器。

在这个音乐速食的年代，人们可以轻而易举地听到一首歌；点击播放键，音乐好像就在耳边。其实不然，不经意间，你丢了很多音符，旋律，声效，更丢了音乐人的辛苦和诚心。

也许，不是每一首歌都值得你戴上耳机品尝，但是张思安的，值得。

"French artist Djang San, aka Zhang Si'an, aka Jean Sebastian, breaks away from his previous projects to release his solo album, "Electronic Music for Chinese Restaurants". As the lead guitarist for the Amazing Insurance Salesman, Djang San has experimented with folk, jazz, and rock ever since arriving in China over a decade ago, but his new album suggests that he still has a few tricks up his sleeves.

Having stayed in China for 12 years, Djang San is no longer the "foreigner". Instead, his experiences allow him to comment and satirize the social and cultural practices he witnesses daily in his album. "Chinese Restaurant" is not made for restaurants. It is, in fact, a meta commentary on the thrilling, eccentric daily lives of Chinese people as they socialize in restaurants.

Djang San does not care for rules and restrictions, and his flexibility is clearly expressed in this album. In one of his singles, you hear the sound of light conversation mixed with folk guitar and electronica, reminiscent of the city's chaos and vitality. In the next, a young girl bumbles over a story, forcing us back to reality. Finally, we are taken a couple decades back into an old Chinese restaurant, where musicians are playing for tired travelers.

For Djang, music is not fixed; it is malleable and spontaneous. In his own words: "I instill the new things I learn everyday into my music." Like a young child, Djang's thirst and curiosity for the new and exciting is strongly reflected in "Chinese Restaurants", making it a refreshing change in an age of repetition."