华山脚下一个安静的村子里，几名刚从农田里回来的老人，拿起自制的月琴、板胡和梆子，唱起两三百年前古老的歌谣。惊堂木“啪”地拍在长板凳上，喇叭“呜呜”，铜锣和钟铃齐鸣，瞬间把人带回两军对阵的古战场前。观众像被施了法术一般，怔住了。 这就是老腔，烈如火，气如虹。初听者只有两种反应：要么热血...
at the foot of the Huashan a quiet village, several people had just returned from farmland, pick up the self-made Yueqin, and the Banhu Bangzi and sang a couple of hundred years ago the old songs. Gavel "pop" to take on the long bench, horn "hum", gongs and bells and gongs, the moment the people back to the two armies against the ancient battlefield before. The audience was like a spell, at. This is the old chamber, wrath, gas. The listener has only two responses: blood or blood...
