People have their own ways of dealing with a broken heart. Most folks cry all day and stay up all night; some eat until they’re fed up; and some just go to sleep. Ever since “Tinh Yeu Lung Linh,” Tuan Hung sings like a lovesick puppy that just wants to drift off to bed.
Six albums later, he still sounds super snoring. His new album clocks in at forty minutes, yet he puts you to sleep at fifteen the most. In track one, he lays in bed counting stars and falling asleep; in track two, he gets up asking himself “Tinh La Gi” and then falls back to sleep; and on he goes. He has a strong, raspy voice, but like most of his peers, he is either too lazy to explore new sounds or he is afraid of stepping out of his limited range. On “Tinh La Gi” and “Anh Muon Noi,” the arrangements are so boring that as soon as the traditional instruments, which sound like Chinese TV series, kick off, you just can’t help to yawn.
So if you want to take nap, this album will do the job efficiently. One good thing, though, is that he has not gone down to Dam Vinh Hung’s path—at least not yet.