In her debut, Our Version of Events, Emeli Sandé channels her soul into pop ballads with her clear, strong, pitch-perfect voice. Standout moments are when she effortlessly maneuvers her way around various breakbeats. “Heaven” brings back that good old, drum ’n’ bass vibe and “Maybe” sports a thumbing, electric backdrop that lets her tells straightforward story: “When we first moved in together / Couldn’t keep hands off each other / Now we’re lying back to back / And silence in the black.”

Carrying on the Coltrane’s legacy is a daunting responsibility. Yet Ravi Coltrane, the second son of John Coltrane, has proven that he has what it takes to do so on Spirit Fiction, his impressive Blue Note debut. Whether offering his own post-bop originals or reinterpreting Ornette Coleman’s “Check Out Time” or Paul Motian’s “Fantasm,” Ravi defines his artistic statement through clear, delicate and confident improvisations. From “Roads Cross” to “Cross Roads,” Ravi’s demonstrates the clever concept of interaction between tempo and pulse. The two bands, with pianist Geri in one and Luis Perdomo in the other, helped pushing Ravi into stepping up his game.

Unlike her exceptional Lênh Đênh Nhớ Phố, Giang Trang opted for a new sound on her follow-up Hạ Huyền. Still covering Trịnh Công Sơn’s music in her minimalist delivery, but she replaced the simple violin-guitar combo (Anh Tú and Anh Hoàng) for more complex quartet consisted of guitarist Nguyễn Văn Tuấn, flutist Sương Mai, cellist Lê Thanh Long and percussionist Trần Xuân Hòa.

While she gains more textures in the arrangements, she completely loses the interpersonal interaction with the instrumentations that made Lênh Đênh Nhớ Phố so damn intimate. On most tracks, particularly “Còn Tuổi Nào Cho Em” and “Như Chim Ưu Phiền,” she seems to be fighting with the flute. The percussion adds no rhythmic value to the arrangements. On “Như Chim Ưu Phiền,” the flute is indeed sounding like an annoying little bird keeps tweeting in her way making me wish I could slingshot that sucker.

Setting the flute as a main melodic accompaniment is the arranger’s biggest misstep for the album. Perhaps the only outstanding track on Hạ Huyền is “Vết Lăn Trầm.” With the flute and percussion out of her way, she delivers Trinh’s heartfelt lyrics like she lived it.

1. Thu Phương – Hà Nội và Tôi: Thu Phương crafted a concept album of her very own Hà Nội.
2. Giang Trang – Lênh Đênh Nhớ Phố: Giang Trang’s simplistic approach brings out the pure beauty of Trịnh Công Sơn’s music.
3. Thanh Thảo – Nonstop 2012: Bạc Trắng Tình Đời: Thanh Thảo and producer Bảo Lư pumped out one of the hottest club joints in 2012.
4. Thủy Tiên – Ra Đồng Giữa Ngọ: Thủy Tiên returns with a solid Trịnh Công Sơn’s songbook.
5. Quái Vật Tí Hon – Đường Về: A rock album filled with original, engaging storytelling.
6. MTV – Nếu Chỉ Sống Một Ngày: This album marks a tremendous growth for MTV group from being a banal pop-rock boy band to a matured, lyrical rock group.
7. Đức Tuấn & Vựa Lúa: A fun, youthful album with various experimental group singing.
8. Dzoãn Minh Vol.7 – Xa Vắng Người: A solid, romantic album focused on Ý Nhi’s music.
9. Lâm Thúy Vân – Bảy Năm Mối Tình Câm: A soulful, straightforward cover of standards from Lâm Thúy Vân.
10. Hiền Thục – 3:15 PM: This album demonstrates Hiền Thục’s commercial success.

T.I. is indeed a Trouble Man. He goes in and out of jail for all sort of misdemeanors including drugs and weapons. The good thing is that he always bounces back as he reminds us on “Who Want Some,” in which he boasts, “We’ve been through this how many time? Have you nigger forgot? I got locked up get out on top whether you like it or not.”

Yes, like it or not, T.I. remains one of the top emcees in the game. Straight hard tracks like “Trap Back Jumpin’,” “Go Get It” and “Addresses” are the proof that he’s still a dope lyricist underneath all that swaggers. He could kill it without the help of r & b hooks. Unfortunately, Trouble Man is filled with r & b crossovers from the guest appearances including R. Kelly, Pink, Cee-Lo Green and Akon, which turns the album into a big, soft, commercialized product.

“Ball,” a club joint with Lil’ Wayne, comes across like two misogynistic assholes bashing women. T.I. raps, “The club full of bad bitches and they came to play / OK it must be your hair cause it ain’t your face.” Then Lil’ Wayne adds, “Bitch shake it like a dog, hop like a frog, ride it like a horse / I throw that dick like darts.” Yet worse is when T.I. sings on “Cruisin’.” Auto-Tune makes him sound terrifying. Stick with rapping, hommie.

Even though Vicious Lies and Dangerous Rumors is a Big Boi’s solo album, “Apple of My Eye” is the only solo track. The rest are collaborative efforts from guest appearances includes T.I., Ludacris, Kelly Rowland and a handful of lesser-known artists. While the production is tight, the format is way too lose. Even his rhymes appear to be free form and aiming for punchlines, “I rub my stick on your chick like a violin,” rather than thought-out lyrics. With the exception of T.I., the guests aren’t up to his swag. Nevertheless Big Boi seems to make an experimental project rather than a solid work.

Diana Krall pays homage to the Ziegfeld girls by dressing up quite sexy on the cover of her latest album Glad Rag Doll. The change of the image also signifies the departure of Krall’s musical direction. She puts jazz standards aside and goes all the way back to the ’20s and ’30s. The selection might be obscure to most listeners, but very familiar to Krall who spent her youth absolving her family’s record collection.

Glad Rag Doll kicks off with a fun, mid-tempo swing “We Just Couldn’t Say Goodbye.” What makes the old tune so invigorating is the way she plays around with the lyrics. “Listen ladies and gentlemen / Here’s what happened to us,” she says. Instead of singing the next bars to tell us what happened to her love story, she scats. The result is quite clever.

Producer T Bone Burnett plays a key role in the album success. The best thing he has done is putting guitarist Marc Ribot in the same studio with Krall. His accompaniment on the title track is a proof that Ribot is the master of understatement who undertands emotion is much more essential than techniques. On “I’m a Little Mixed Up,” however, he switches up his distorted, rocking riffs against the slapping backbeat provided by bassist Dennis Crouch and keyboardist Keefus. The strong rhythm section gives Krall the freedom to explore the good old country bluesy licks on the piano.

Vocal wise, Krall is still at the top of her game. The cover “Lonely Avenue” showcases Krall’s raw vocals over the gritty feedback of Ribot’s guitar. With Glad Rag Doll, Krall and her musicians had successfully brought old-school songs into the new century.

Thanh Thảo returns to the club once again. Her new release features one track that clocks over an hour of nothing but Nonstop heavy-hitting beats weaving together a handful of trendy, sugary, catchy, dated pop hits. What makes the album shines, however, is that the thumping, pounding productions work toward her advantage.

The magic wand behind the album is producer Bảo Lư. Not only he knows how to cover up Thanh Thảo’s flaws and limited range, he also transforms the banal tunes into something more creative. He manages to make Thanh Thảo sounds more convincing underneath the chaotic beats. Thanh Thảo is no longer just singing about her broken heart. She’s burying her soul inside the thunderous productions. She’s ready for revenge. Fuck you for breaking her heart. She’s going to show you what the fuck you’re missing out.

Although I am getting way too old for the club shit, Nonstop beats the fucking blue out of me.

Đức Tuấn bores me. His delivery is badly repetitive. He locks himself into the broadway singing style that isn’t doing him any good for Vietnamese music. Lời Tôi Ru Như Mơ, his latest offerring of Từ Công Phụng’s romantic ballads, meets the standard, but far from outstanding.

Once again Đức Tuấn invested top-notch arrangements, which have become his standard, for his album, but his singing has become quite predictable and mechanical. He treats each word with so much care and calculation that it takes away from the emotional essence. Even when he injects his soul into the songs, it feels calculated, which ended up sounding so fake. On “Tự Tình Mùa Xuân,” the simple romance is nowhere to be heard because the song has turned into a musical broadway soundtrack. On “Trên Tháng Ngày Đã Qua,” he is terribly off-key trying to make the song sounds new. The result is disruptive and extremely awkward.

With the exception of “Kiếp Dã Tràng,” Lời Tôi Ru Như Mơ has similar song selection to Tuấn Ngọc’s Giọt Lệ Cho Ngàn Sau. The caliber of Đức Tuấn’s, however, is nowhere near Tuấn Ngọc’s classic.

I am in a love-hate relationship with Hiền Thục. Love her when she covers Trịnh Công Sơn’s music and hate her for doing commercial pops. Her new release, 3:15 PM, falls under the latter. The opening track, “Yêu Là Sai,” sounds so damn Chinese from the arrangement to the melody. The second track, “Hẹn Lại Ngàn Sau,” is way too melodramatic.

Yet, I am not hating the album because Hiền Thục makes the songs believable. She’s quite mature in handling the lyrics. In “Đêm Lạnh,” for example, her voice comes through once I get past the annoying rap shit. Somehow that soft, fragile voice of her is so hypnotizing over the heavy, thumping bass in a r & b production. She also surprises the listeners when switching her vocals to mezzo-soprano.

I am probably done with 3:15 PM by the time this review is written, but it whets my appetite until her next Trịnh’s songbook. Meanwhile young heads are putting this album on repeat.