Was Doan Trang on crack when she revealed her panties at a social event? Maybe. Was she on crack when she recorded her latest release The Unmakeup? Most definitely because a singer in her right mind wouldn’t release such embarrassing work. Seriously, what the hell was she thinking when she decided to make an entire album in English?

Quoc Bao was the original producer for The Unmakeup, but he decided to drop out. “Too busy” was his reason, but the real decision was that he realized the album was going to be a piece of crap. Doan Trang’s English is so horrendous that going through the entire album was such a painful experience as if listening to a cat clawing on the chalkboard. On “My 20s,” her flow is stilted as she tries to pronounce every word correctly. She ruins the beautiful jazz arrangement on “Nocturnal” with her imperfect accent.

Doan Trang, you’re such a cutie and all, but please stop making dreadful music. If this is an American obsession, get some counseling. Get off the white power too.

Vietnamese New Year is a perfect occasion for music productions to make money; therefore, Asia and Thuy Nga, two gigantic Vietnamese entertainments, competed against each other in the same concept was inevitible. Since Asia’s Dam Cuoi Dau Xuan and Thuy Nga’s Hanh Phuc Dau Nam went head for head, I am going to compare the two side by side just for the fun of it.

Let’s kick off with the opening. As usual, Thuy Nga started out with its line up of hot babes to grab the viewer’s attention. “Ngay Tet Viet Nam,” written for the program by Hoai An, featured young singers in ao dai. They sure were great to look at, but the song was too poppy with a bit of Chinese flavor. On the Asia’s side, Son Ca and Chi Tam were older, but they sure brought in the New Year vibe with “Ngay Xua Vui Cuoi.”

Asia’s ending was weaker than Thuy Nga simply because Truc Ho was too lazy to come up with a new arrangement for Ha Thanh Xuan’s performance of “Khuc Hat An Tinh.” Although Ha Thanh Xuan was giving her best vocal delivery, she was new and therefore no way she could outdo the veteran Y Lan in the same arrangement. As soon as the music began, Y Lan was immediately came to mind. On Thuy Nga’s side, Don Ho and Ky Phuong Uyen gave a modern pop version of Van Phung’s “Ca Khuc Mung Xuan.” Not that they had done a superb job, but at least their sounded fresh.

Given that both producing similar concept, I was surprised that only one song covered on both side. Lam Nhat Tien were up against Khanh Ha for Quoc Dung’s “Em Da Thay Mua Xuan Chua?” The outcome was predictable. Khanh Ha was singing an octive higher than Lam Nhat Tien. Her version was much more soulful and had more depth than his.

Y Phuong were up against Ngoc Anh for the swing. Although I like both Y Phuong’s “Mung Xuan” and Ngoc Anh’s “Xuan Voi Doi Song Moi,” Ngoc Anh would be my choice. She rode the beat so marvelously with her smoking voice and her steps were also sexy.

For the young duets, Mai Tien Dung and Toc Tien’s “Nguoi Tinh Oi, Mo Gi” were along the line of Anh Minh and Doan Phi’s “Buoc Tinh Nong” and “Qua Cau Gio Bay.” The choreography in Mai Tien Dung and Toc Tien was fantastic and the song was fun and energic. Sy Dan’s upbeat production for “Qua Cau Gio Bay” was quite rejuvenating and Anh Minh was hot as hell too. Unfortunately, Doan Phi killed it. His wardrobe malfuction, which revealed the use of velcro along the ao dai, was embarassing. He and his dancers tried to stick them together, but couldn’t get them to adhere. He should have just take off the ao dai when singing the line, “Yeu nhau coi ao cho nhau.” It would have been perfect.

Ho Hoang Yen’s performance of Anh Viet Thu’s “Nhu Giot Sau Roi” was a close race to Thanh Ha’s performance of Ngoc Bich’s “Mong Chieu Xuan.” They both did a fantastic job of delivering the tunes and both set the stage on fire, but I have to go with Ho Hoang Yen for the sexiness. Quang Dung in Tu Cong Phung’s “Mua Xuan Tren Dinh Mua Xuan” was a close match to Tuan Khanh in Pham Duy’s “Em Le Chua Nay.” Both weren’t quite do the song its justice. Their rendition was safe and a tad boring.

As for the skit, Nguyen Ngoc Ngan’s script was much sharper than Hong Dao’s. His puns were spot on. Hoai Tam said that in order to learn English you have to learn the “technique.” Chi Tai replied with learning English until you “tet dit” (split your ass). Chi Tai, Hoai Tam and Be Ti were killing it. On the Asia’s side, Hong Dao and Quang Minh were a bit over-dramatic.

Politically speaking, Thuy Nga stayed completely free. Even though Nam Loc can’t help throwing in a few jabs in the beginning of the show, Asia also had done a decent job of sanitizing its political view for the sake of New Year. Asia also brought in Ngoc Dan Thanh. Damn, how old is she now? She must be at least in her 50s and yet still very georgous. She looked stunning in the black ao dai. I still remember watching some of her music videos in my early days in the States and she hasn’t changed much in almost twenty years. She sure is aging quite gracefully.

Even though Thuy Nga was a bit stronger in the overall production, both brought out some enjoyable hours for Tet. With Tet, viewers do not expect new tunes. They just want some good old tunes to take them back to the wonderful moments of New Year. So the productions can do no wrong covering classic ballads with the spirit of “Xuan” and bringing some joy and laughter to the show.

What had happened to the mysterious, gothic Thuy Tien who rocked my world with Ngot & Dang and Narcissus? Her newest release, Em Da Quen, is a complete transformation from an innovative gal to a complete mediocre pop chick, as if Tori Amos has turned into Britney Spears.

Thuy Tien used to bare her soul in her songs even when she sang over a minimal arrangement like “Ao Dai Trang A Oi.” Now she hides her voice behind Auto-Tune and dance beat in the title track, but shows more skins in the video. Don’t give me wrong. I don’t mind the video and glad to see that she has gained so much confidence in her appearance. What makes my heart sink is seeing her musical talent gets wasted. Not a single track on Em Da Quen isn’t crappy.

It’s easy to dismiss the path Thuy Tien has chosen, but let’s walk in her shoes (or high heels) for a minute. Thuy Tien is now more popular than before. Em Da Quen probably sells more than both her first and second album combined. Why spend so much time and energy creating something that only a handful of people can get it? With her talent, she could churn out catchy pop tunes in her sleep and make much of money off them. The choice is between the starving artist and the glamorous celebrity. Thuy Tien obviously has picked her choice. Hate the game, not the player.

I got mad love for Ho Hoang Yen’s sensuous vocals (something about that slightly smoky timbre) as well as her voluptuous figure. In fact, I got so much love for her that I treated her debut, Bao Tinh, from a clean slate, as if I have not heard of the songs she performed on Asia’s video before. It really is a damn shame that her first album is nothing more than a collection of tracks Asia production gathered from its various video series.

Even if I try to get past the repackaging scam, I can’t get over Asia’s sleazy method of recycling old beats. At least two of Truc Ho’s arrangements have already been used in the past. “Mot Mai Em Di” and “Khuc Thuy Du” were taken straight from Thuy Duong’s version. Ho Hoang Yen just has to sing over the same old productions. Her version of “Hanh Phuc Lang Thang” and “Bao Gio Biet Tuong Tu” is just flat and uninspiring. The “Lien Khuc Vu Thanh An” with Tuan Khanh sticks out like a soar thumb.

I am so glad that “Xin Thoi Gian Qua Mau” has been rearranged and not reusing Ngoc Lan’s. While Ngoc Lan’s gorgeous rendition remains matchless, Ho Hoang Yen’s version takes on a different direction. It’s more tender and the jazz keyboard adds some nice touch to the tune. The title track is decent as if she has brought the quiet storm to the sentimental lyrics and her version of “Bai Tango Cho Rieng Em” is simply sexy, not sure if it’s the tango or the dress.

Bao Tinh is a disappointment because Asia places her in such a rigid template that she has very little room to wiggle, let along the space to be creative. With such a hypnotizing voice, Ho Hoang Yen can offer much more than this if she is willing to explore outside of the Asia’s box.

My Dzung’s sweet, slightly raspy voice and her nonchalant manner are a perfect combination for nhac sen (over-sentimental ballads). Unfortunately she commits two major crimes on her new release Tu Luc Em Di.

First, not hiring the best producers to accommodate her voice is like not hiring the best lawyer to defend her case. Her vocals on Ngan Trang’s “Mat Nhau Roi” is so heart-wrecking that you could just feel her pain, but the cheap, poppy beat makes the song mediocre. It’s a damn shame that the dull production ruins what could have been a chill, emotional rendition of Truong Xa’s “Xin Con Goi Ten Nhau.” Hoang Trong’s “Khong Bao Gio Quen Anh” suffers even more. The mechanical production works against her expressive delivery.

Second, she makes a huge mistake of inviting Dam Vinh Huong for a duet of Tran Thien Thanh’s “Lau Dai Tinh Ai.” The drama queen drags her down the soapy gutter with his saccharine, over-emphatic delivery. Tu Luc Em Di is a heartbreaking album not for its content, but for its wasted opportunity from such a potential vocalist.

Like Tran Thai Hoa, Ngoc Quy has a fine baritone and a taste for pre-war classics. Unlike Tran Thai Hoa, Ngoc Quy is not limited to Thuy Nga’s perfunctory productions. In his new release, Hon Co Mo Xa, Ngoc Quy covers good old standards with fresh, luscious arrangements.

Backing up by Tran Manh Hung’s exuberant semi-classical orchestration, Ngoc Quy gives a marvelous interpretation of Cung Tien’s “Huong Xua.” His effortless flow on the high register displays his vocal ability to sing classical-inflected music. With Doan Chuan and Tu Linh’s “Gui Gio Cho May Ngan Bay,” he maneuvers his way around Luu Ha An’s intoxicating jazz arrangement. His version of Pham Trong Cau’s “Mua Thu Khong Tro Lai” is tender and mellow. The bossa-nova groove adds a nice touch to Le Trong Nguyen’s “Nang Chieu.” The decision to keep the saxaphone to the minimal level when accompanying the vocalist is a wise one.

With its classiness and warm intimacy, Hon Co Mo Xa is perfect for late-night relaxation. So put your kids to bed, uncork a bottle of wine, sit back and enjoy the album with your partner. Let the music and the spirit put all your worries behind.

With Pho (small town not the well-known noodle soup), Tan Son has come up a clever concept. He covers 10 of Trinh Cong Son’s songs in which listeners will get to hear the songwriter’s love, memory and passion, compassion for the small town. Tan Son also recruited Dang Khoa, Thien Quoc and Hong Dieu to craft some modern-pop productions and electric arrangements to back up his gentle vocals.

The issue is that Tan Son is being way too modest with Trinh’s compositions. He stays faithful to the written melody. His flow is rigid and he delivers each tune dead on. “Roi Nhu Da Ngay Ngo” clocks at 7 minutes with gorgeous, spacious arrangement but his singing is so static that the tune sounds like the ending never comes. He doesn’t shift keys, accent on a weak beat or get inside the harmony, which make me think of Tung Duong and what he can do to this arrangement.

With that said, Pho is a decent cover of Trinh’s well-worn standards including “Trong Noi Dau Tinh Co,” “Chieu Mot Minh Qua Pho” and “Yeu Dau Tan Theo.” The quality surpasses big, mechanical productions like Thuy Nga’s and Asia’s. The problem is that Trinh’s music has been covered this way so much already years after years. There are rooms to move beyond. In one of Trinh’s interviews, he pointed out that he liked both Khanh Ly’s and Hong Nhung’s rendition of his songs. They brings different colors and tones to his songs; therefore, his music continues to live on. So yes, he did encourage singers to take his music to a new level.

Thai Chau is apparently very old school. His new release, Bai Tinh Ca Cho Em, is what you would expect from the man with the cool, ageless baritone: good old time ballads that either grooves you or gives you nostalgia.

The album kicks off with Khanh Bang’s “Sau Dong,” one of the Vietnamese’s favorite party jams. Thai Chau shows off his flawless breath control and slick, effortless flow for the cha-cha-cha beat. The next track, Nguyen Anh 9’s “Ai Dua Em Ve,” slows down the vibe, but on Lam Phuong’s “Co Ua” is when he gets real sentimental with the support of Ngoc Anh whose smoky contralto is a perfect match to Thai Chau’s charming baritone. Their rendition of “Co Ua” is as hypnotic as the version of Don Ho and Lam Thuy Van. In fact, their version could be even more intoxicating if the programmed drums were left out and just let the piano backs up their vocals.

On Manh Chuong’s “Thuong Hoai Ngan Nam,” Thai Chau sings like a bird with a broken wing. He glides up and down the octave in such an easygoing effort. Sadly, the mechanical production brings the song down a notch. On the other hand, his up-tempo duet with Loan Chau on Duc Huy’s “Yeu Em Dai Lau” is horrendous, as if an old man trying to take a young girl to the club. The dance remake of Anh Bang’s “Nhung Tam Hon Co Don” is also horrible thanks to Back Kieu whose falsetto on the high register makes the song unbearable.

Bai Tinh Ca Cho Em is without a doubt a throwback to the good old time. Sure, Thai Chau’s voice doesn’t really need any update, but he needs to take his beat to a higher level. Thuy Nga’s robotic productions simply do him no good. They are a waste of his soul and talent. He should definitely put more thoughts and investment into the arrangements.

Truc Lam and Truc Linh’s Con Duong Mau Xanh is a perfect example of how not to make old songs sound new. The Truc sisters try to give Ha Huyen Chi and Tran Trinh’s “Le Da” a fresh makeover with a mid-tempo production. They ended up taking the soul out of the tune. Likewise Do Le’s “Sang Ngang” gets an electric cover that sounds as flat as the sister’s ab. The good thing is that Do Le’s so-damn-depressing lyrics no longer make you want to kill yourself. The beat makes you want to dance instead. As a result, the song is not so miserable after all. The sisters also turned Lam Phuong’s “Thanh Pho Buon” into a happy city with the upbeat production.

One of the advantages of making these sentimental tunes into party jams is to mask the sister’s karaoke singing and limited range of less than an octave. The slow songs like Trinh Nam Son’s title track, Truong Sa’s “Xin Con Goi Ten Nhau” and Lam Phuong’s “Phuc Cuoi,” show that the sister’s are more suitable for baring their skin on videos than baring their soul in the songs. They understand the art of seduction much more than the art of interpretation.

Ho Trung Dung has a warm, charming voice, a tad too nice for my taste. In his new release, Hanh Phuc, Ho Trung Dung sings most of his own tunes. Like many Vietnamese singer-songwriters, he suffers the same symptoms: uninspired lyrics with lifeless melodies.

“Khi Nang Chua Day” is sentimental and romantic, but the rest of the tracks also carry similar pop-hook formula. The spotless, mechanical arrangements aren’t doing his clean, good-boy voice any favor either. His songs are so consistent that there are hardly any harmonic changes. “Doi Khi” and “Tinh Khong Muon Mang” stand out simply because he brought Thanh Ngoc and Ha Linh in for the duets.

“Never Too Late” is included at the end as if there’s a new rule that Vietnamese singers have to include an English track on their album. It’s not a bonus. It’s a bogus.