I am very proud to be Vietnamese. In fact, I am so damn proud that I forced myself to sit through the five-hour Paris By Night 99: Toi La Nguoi Viet Nam on a Sunday afternoon and bored out of my mind. By the second lineup, Y Lan took on Tuan Khanh’s “Nhat Nhoa,” the show turned insipid.

Musically, there were a bunch of uninspiring, refurbishing fillers including Vu Tuan Duc’s medley (performed by Ky Phuong Uyen and Luu Bich), Duc Huy’s medley (performed by Luong Tung Quang and Mai Tien Dung), Khanh Ly’s yet another version of Trinh Cong Son’s “Uot Mi” and Thanh An’s wimpiest rendition of Ngoc Son’s “Tinh Cha” yet.

Duong Trieu Vu couldn’t bring life to Pham Duy’s “Ky Niem” even though the production had done its best to beef up the imageries from the lyrics. He lacked the experience to make the tune believable. In contrast, Ngoc Ha managed to give a nostalgic performance of Tu Huy’s “Que Huong Tuoi Tho Toi,” the only track that stood out from the show. Dieu Huong’s new tune, “Xin Dung Quay Lai,” was predictable. Mr. Trizzy Phuong Trinh made it even more obvious how the chords were structured. The ballad started off soft but progressed into a Celine Dion’s belting-out climax.

Even the theme of the show was not inspiring. Asia had been highlighting successful Vietnamese-Americans for years. It’s about time Thuy Nga gave props to the “King of Nail” for all the ads he bought from the production. Not only Thuy Nga ripped off the concept, but it also used Trinh Hoi to do the same damn things he did when he was at Asia. The different is that his role at Thuy Nga is more like an assistant MC.

The sex tape killed Hoang Thuy Linh’s acting career, but gave birth to a young pop star. With the debut release, Hoang Thuy Linh returns to the limelight after the “Vang Anh scandal” broke out near the end of 2007. When the album dropped last month, I didn’t pay much attention because I didn’t think Hoang Thuy Linh could sing. After listening to the album again yesterday, I still think she can’t sing. She has a cute voice, but her range is very limited. Yet, the album works so well thanks to the producers who know how to build the arrangements around her vocals.

Hoang Thuy Linh Vol. 1 kicks off with a club-friendly “Nhip Dap Giac Mo” written by the Luu Thien Huong. The bouncy beat allows Hoang Thuy Linh to ride along with confidence. The end result is pretty damn catchy. Dong Nhi’s “Nghe Nay Chang Trai” is another hypnotic up-tempo number with Auto-Tune enhancement, which is rare because most Vietnamese pop singers use Auto-Tune as a clutch to make themselves sound like alien.

Hoang Thuy Linh also knows not to dramatize slow songs. On the R&B slow jam “Cam On Vi Yeu Em,” another Luu Thien Huong’s piece, she makes the hook sounds convincing as if she thanks her lover for sticking with her after that sex scandal. The album closer, “Ngay Hanh Phuc,” confirms that Hoang Thuy Linh has left the past behind: “Quen di bao nhieu au lo ngay hom qua / Quen di nhung song gio lam cho ta met nhoai.”

What holds the album together is the crisp, solid beats throughout. The lyrics aren’t over-the-top cheesy like most of the the trendy songs these days. This is definitely the step in the right direction for Hoang Thuy Linh. Keep moving forward, kiddo.

As a pop phenomenon who has always tried to stay young, My Tam surprises her fans by covering old songs on her latest release Melodies of Time. What surprises me though is that she doesn’t update these songs to make them relevant for the young listeners even though she has the potential to do so.

My Tam plays safe and doesn’t even take any risk with the beats like she had done in the past. As a result, she is being overshadowed by the previous generation of singers. Her version of Quoc Dung and Nguyen Duc Cuong’s “Chuyen Hop Tan” is an immediate echo of Bao Yen. Their annunciation sounds similar, but Bao Yen’s effortless phrasing and gruff tone gives the tune more rough edges. Furthermore, Bao Yen’s skillful breath control makes My Tam’s breathy delivery sounds amateur.

With Lam Phuong’s “Xin Thoi Gian Qua Mau,” Ngoc Lan’s version comes to mind as soon as My Tam begins the first line. My Tam comes across as stiff and dull compare to Ngoc Lan’s fluid and emotional flow. What makes Ngoc Lan’s version so damn hypnotizing until this day is the way she wrapped her angelic voice around the rhumba rhythm.

What is up with everyone covering Hoang Trong Thuy’s “Doan Khuc Cuoi Cho Em” these days? Once again, Ngoc Anh’s recent version still dominates the rest including My Tam’s simply because Ngoc Anh has such a mesmerizing voice and she sang the tune with so much soul and authority of a woman.

The timeless songs she covered aren’t strong, yet the weakest track on the album is “Doi Yeu,” in which she penned herself with Le Quang. The melody and the lyrics are just mundane, but the ad-lib male voice is what really kills the song. He is hardly audible and he sounded like he has tuberculosis with a big mucus blocking his vocal cord.

Melodies of Time has set My Tam really far back. She will need to step up her game and take more adventurous approach if she doesn’t want to be forgotten. Other wise she will become mediocre like her male-counterpart Dam Vinh Hung.

Alone with the piano, Hiromi’s takes listeners on a roller-coaster ride around the world in her Place to Be. The first stop is “BQE” (Brooklyn Queens Expressway) where traffic vibe is built using series of chromatic scales; then we jump over to France for delightful treat of “Choux a la Creme” (sweet and full of textures); and on we go. While the infectious “Capecode Chips” shows off her boogie-woogie chops, “Somewhere,” a tribute to someone closed to her that passed away, displays her sentimental side. Place to Be, which captures some of Hiromi’s finest and impressive jazz improvisations, is a testament that Hiromi can be placed anywhere on this earth and she will make her voicing heard.

Although Dr. Tran Viet Tan doesn’t make a living off his music, he sure knows how to put together a high-quality album. He either has the strong connection or plenty of dough to scoop up four brand-name vocalists (Hong Nhung, Thanh Lam, Ha Tran and Tung Duong) as well as big-name producers including Hoai Sa on his new release Cham Vao Dem. Furthermore, the album cover was well designed: stunningly simple and typographically clever.

Even with all that jazz, it can’t hide the fact that the doc is not a melodic composer. Hong Nhung had done her best to bring some life to “Vo Oc Thoi Gian,” “Bai Ky Niem” and “Song Ve,” but still can’t save them from being dead boring. The melodies are just flat. Thanh Lam tries to give the title track some rough edges with her irritating flow and annoying vibrato. She ends up making the tune unbearable. Even Tung Duong fails to make the doc’s song exciting. On “Dem Sapa,” he sounds as if he tries to kill an ant with a sledgehammer. The beat is light and bouncy, but his voice is so heavy and dull.

Listening to Cham Vao Dem is like going to an upscale restaurant. The decoration looks expensive and the presentation appears to be enticing, but the food simply has no taste. The up-tempo of “Hay Coi Nhau Nhu Tinh Nhan” performed by the doc himself is like the extra red bean soup you get at a Chinese restaurant at the end of the meal.

About two months ago, Hung Hoang, founder of VN Collective, invited me to a Vietnamese concert titled Dem Nho Ve Sai Gon (Memories of Sai Gon) in Mississauga. He also wanted to use two of my slideshows, “Bien Nho” and “Vietnam In Memoriam,” for the event. Although none of my work was shown for technical (and some political) issues, I still drove across the border to attend the show. The reason being that I haven’t seen neither Tuan Ngoc nor Khanh Ha live.

Tuan Ngoc didn’t disappoint. He had proven that age ain’t nothing but a number and he often joked about it during the show. By the way, his dry humors were clever and brought out the not-so-serious side of him. His outstanding performances of the night included the nostalgic rendition of Tram Tu Thien’s “Dem Nho Ve Sai Gon,” soulful take on Trinh Cong Son’s “Phoi Pha” and Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Ao Lua Ha Dong.” Loved the bossa-nova arrangement on “Ao Lua Ha Dong” and the way the piano comping behind Tuan Ngoc. His weaker performances were Trinh Cong Son’s “Ha Trang” (the mid-tempo arrangement ruined the lyrical imaginations) and “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes.” Tuan Ngoc can sing English, but not so great. His flow was stilted and his accent was transparent.

During intermission, I had an opportunity to catch up and thank Hung Hoang for the invitation. Knowing that Mr. Hoang is the organizer, a not-so-bad-looking lady in her mid thirties interrupted our conversation to request a song from Tuan Ngoc. She wanted to hear him sing “Rieng Mot Goc Troi.” I wanted to slap her for one of my visitors, but I looked at Mr. Hung and laughed instead. Tuan Ngoc did delivered “Rieng Mot Goc Troi” near the end of the concert and still managed to show off his technical skill for the 999 times he had sung the tune.

Unlike Tuan Ngoc, Khanh Ha was quite a disappointment. She literally fucked up the theme of the show simply because she came way too late to practice with the band. She started out with Van Phung’s “Toi Di Giua Hoang Hon” out of tune. She sang in one key while the band played in another. The saxophone kicked in at the bridge caused her to dropped out instead of finishing up the song. Her version of “Autumn Leaves” was a mess. The band, which consisted of Canadian players, and her didn’t communicate. It was so horrible that she had to request a kid who could play some classical piano to accompanied her instead of the jazz band. She managed to pulled off Anh Bang’s “Khuc Thuy Du,” Truong Sa’s “Xin Con Goi Ten Nhau” and “Unchain Melody” with just a piano behind her. She went as far as singing Hoang Duong’s “Huong Ve Ha Noi” in an acappella style, although the theme was clearly about remembering Sai Gon. I guess she wanted to take a detour.

If this was a Tuan Ngoc & Khanh Ha show, it was decent. They both delivered their signature songs well. However, for a show with a concept of Dem Nho Sai Gon, it was all over the place. The song selection didn’t take the listeners back to Sai Gon. Choices like Thanh Tung’s “Giot Nang Ben Them,” Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Nua Hon Thuong Dau,” Duc Huy’s “Bai Di Canh Chim Bien,” Pham Duy’s “Kiep Nao Con Co Nhau” didn’t evoke the images of Sai Gon.

Musically, the band’s playing was way too restricted. Unlike Say Thu with Thu Phuong, in which the band swung, played the blues and added some Latin flavors, they played mostly pop ballad and only accommodated the vocalists. They hardly brought out their solos and improvisations. They didn’t played with confidence.

Dem Nho Sai Gon was disorganized and it was out of the organizer’s control. I could see how tough it was to put together a show; therefore, I have already abandoned my idea of my ideal concert.

As I was going through my boxes of old CDs, which had been sitting in the basement ever since we moved into the new place, I came across Tuan Ngoc and Thai Hien’s Doi Mat Nguoi Son Tay. I brushed off the dusk, popped the CD into my stereo and the music sounded fresher than ever. With Duy Cuong’s lust, sensual orchestration backing up two of the best balladeers, what’s more can one ask for?

Thai Hien kicks off the album with the title track. I could visualize the sparkling, gorgeous eyes in Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Doi Mat Nguoi Son Tay” (poem by Quang Dung) through Thai Hien’s angelic alto. Tuan Ngoc follows up with a trip to memory lane in Cung Tien’s “Huong Xua.” The gentleness in his tenor along with Duy Cuong’s classical arrangement gives the tune a filmic nostalgia. Thai Hien returns with Pham Duy’s “Nuoc Mat Mua Thu.” Unlike Le Thu, Thu Phuong and Ngoc Ha who use their vocal power, Thai Hien uses her quiet tears to lyricize the sentiment of the song and the result is quite striking without belting.

The album only has two duet tracks and they both from Le Uyen Phuong. Only the first one, “Tren Da Tinh Yeu,” is truly a duet. The second one is just a medley with each takes on a tune similar to Asia’s approach on its video releases. Other than that, the album can be experienced from start to finish and on repeat. Doi Mat Nguoi Son Tay is definitely an oldie but goodie.

A couple weeks ago, a Visualgui.com visitor sent me Camille Huyen’s Cung Tien Art Songs for review and the album has become a personal favorite for Duke (my son) and me. Besides Lullaby: A Collection, Art Songs could put both of us to sleep, rain or shine. Dana drove us to Duke’s Gymboree class earlier today and both of us in the backseat knocked out listening to the album by the time we arrived.

As sleepy as it sounds, Art Songs is a genuine work. The tracks on the albums are so intimate that they required undivided attention, preferably in a quiet area with the lights dimmed. With minimal arrangements, the music is all close ups. Camille Huyen was born in Hue and although she is currently living in Switzerland, her exquisite central accent has yet escaped her. With a trio (led and orchestrated by her classical guitar teacher Walther Giger) backing her up, Camille Huyen transfers Cung Tien’s compositions to a whole classical level.

On “Doi Bo” she floats her haunting, deep-sorrow alto into Quang Dung’s lyrics while the picking guitar reflects her forlorn. Another mesmerizing track is also based on Quang Dung’s poem “Ke O.” Love the way the guitar responds to the voice as if it feels her sadness. In fact, most of the songs are accompanied by an acoustic guitar with a few exceptions like “Vet Chim Bay” and “Khoi Ho Bay,” which included hypnotic double bass from Fumio Shirato and doleful violin from Noriko Kawamura. What makes “Khoi Ho Bay” a guilty pleasure is Nguyen Tuong Giang’s erotic lyrics: “Nho em nguc nho moi ai ngam / Mat ngot tran gian huong ngat ngay.” Nguyen Ngoc Bich has translated, “Your [small breast] where my lips come to anchor / To taste in ecstasy the honey of the world.”

The tracks are so consistent that you either listen to the entire selection or not at all and if you listen to it passively like we did, you will end up falling asleep. Although Art Songs released three years ago, it is the freshest Vietnamese album I have heard so far this year due to the endless cover of old songs with nothing new that is dominating the pop scene.

Chick Corea obviously loves to duet. It brings the best out of him and his partner too. His performance with another jazz legend Herbie Hancock was a masterpiece. His collaboration with the bluegrass banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck was an enchantment. His latest joint effort with the Japanese piano prodigy Hiromi is a phenomenon. What sets Corea/Hiromi apart from Corea/Hancock or Corea/Fleck is how the two sounded seamless together. Even on “Bolivar Blues,” you can’t tell who played Thelonious Monk’s fragmented chops, and not that you want to. They push each other, but each playing is a foil to the other. When Chick takes the lead (“Humpty Dumpty” for instance), Hiromi backs him up. Likewise, he complemented her on “Place to Be.” The mutual respect between the two pianists makes this two-set Duet a pure pleasure listening experience.

Với chất giọng sương khói và rất có hồn, Thanh Tâm dể dàng thu hút người nghe ở bất cứ nhạc phẩm nào. Từ giai điệu êm dịu trong “Tháng Tư Về” của Dương Thụ, đến nổi sầu bởi chiến tranh trong “Mùa Hoa Cải ” của Lê Vinh, cho đến cái dí nhỏm trong “Bờm” của Hồ Trọng Tuấn, Thanh Tâm ghép khá nhiều thể loại vào trong album mới nhất: Cánh Đồng Tình Yêu.

Tuy Thanh Tâm trình bài hầu hết các nhạc phẩm khá trọn vẹn, Cánh Đồng Tình Yêu không có một đường lối khẳng định. Vì có quá nhiều khác biệt giữa những bài ca khiến người nghe không được tập trung. Một album thành công sẽ bắt người nghe chú ý từng bài một từ khi mở CD lên cho đến phút cuối. Những bài nhạc phải được liên kết với nhau thì album mới trở thành chặt chẻ, hoàn chỉnh được.

Cánh Đồng Tình Yêu thiếu xót điều đó. Chẳng hạn như cô đang tung tăng đùa vui với thằng “Bờm” có cái quạt mo bổng dưng chuyển qua bom đạn trong “Huyền Thoại Mẹ” của Trịnh Công Sơn. “Em Gái Quê Mình” (Trần Quế Sơn) đang tươi tắng trên đồng quê bổng dưng “Ôm trăng đánh giấc bên đồi Dạ Lan.”

Hòa âm của album cũng chứa đựng khá nhiều màu sắc. Nhất là giai điệu quê hương qua cách quyện khéo léo những nhạc cụ truyền thống. Nhưng mỗi nhạc sĩ (Thanh Phương, Minh Đao, Phan Cường, Trần Minh Tuấn và Huyền Trung) đem đến một hương vị khác nhau và được trộn lại như một nồi lẩu thập cẩm, ăn lần đầu thì ngon nhưng ăn mỗi ngày thì sẽ ngán lắm.