Dizzy Gillespie’s “Groovin’ High” is a “silent theme” tradition. Diz took an American popular song called “Whispering,” abandoned its melody, then wrote a new melody on top of the metrical and harmonic structure of the original composition. The tune kicks off with Diz and Bird (Charlie Parker) play in unison. The tagging between the two is awesome. After Bird’s marvelous solo, Slam Stewart’s bowing-bass improvisation is invigorating. Of course, Diz’s wailing trumpet on the high register is unmistakable. After guitarist Romo Palmieri gives his solo, Diz takes the tune out with a sudden turn to a much slower tempo. With the powerful way Diz blows, I could just see the huge puffiness on his cheeks.

As a hip-hop listener and a lyrical freak, I pay close attention to the accentuation of the words. Listening to Vietnamese music is no exception. I am a stickler for those diacritical intonations as well as the differences between “ch” and “tr” or the ones that ended with “n” (gian) or “ng” (giang), and so on. I find these nuances to be fascinating, and Vietnamese singers should as well.

This brings me back to Tuan Ngoc again. Yes, that guy who loves to close his eyes when he sings. Yes, the guy with all the veins popping out if his neck when he soars. But heck, he could sing not only well, but also correct in his exotic enunciations. As much as I would love to say that I know the capitol of Vietnam, I know jack about Ha Noi. Yet when Tuan Ngoc sings Trinh Cong Son’s “Nho Mua Thu Ha Noi,” I could sense the fragrance of “cay com nguoi vang,” “hoa sua,” “com xanh,” and “com sua,” even though I have no clued what they smell or look like. They all come from the way he articulates those words, especially “nguoi,” “sua,” and “com.”

For argument’s sake, let’s say that Trinh Cong Son had crafted these lyrical words, not Tuan Ngoc. That is not incorrect, but when other singers cover this tune they could only get as far as the visual elements such as “mai ngoi tham nau” or “mau suong thuong nho, bay sam cam nho vo canh mat troi,” not to the point where I could psychologically smell the poetical stimulations. See, I don’t need Ecstasy to get me high, a simple song from Tuan Ngoc and Trinh Cong Son would do. Big up to Duy Cuong for the gorgeous vibe as well.

“St. Thomas” is a famous piece among jazz musicians. The form is ABA with sets of improvisations that fall into two sets of five choruses, then two sets of four. In the intro, Max Roach sets up a Latin groove with sixteen bars on the drums. The fluidity and intensity build in from Sonny Rollins’ tenor saxophone. His sound on the tenor is sensational and powerful. Roach then drops an intoxicating Latin vibe that filled with rhythmic complexity. As Rollins returns for his solo, Roach switches to a strong jazz beat along with Dough Watkin’s four-to-the-bar bass. The beat prevails almost to the end of the performance.

Giant Steps was the album that established John Coltrane’s career after striking out on Miles Davis. The title track, which moves progressively from one key to next in a floating atonality, demonstrated Coltrane’s virtuosity and concentration on the tenor saxophone. As someone who did nothing but practiced all day and night, Coltrane showed his mastery of maneuvering his way around a detailed road map, and he was moving so fast that his pianist, Tommy Flanagan, was having some difficulty fingering out how to navigate the treacherous road. The composition is based on a sixteen-bar structure, but it goes by so fast that if you tap your foot to it, you would miss every other beat. If you can’t keep up, this wonderful Flash animation from Michal Levy could help.

Thought that I would never make another post on Vietnamese DVDs, but Asia latest show, Bon Mua, featured some worth-mentioning performances. So let’s get to it.

The show kicks off with a four-season medley. All the youngsters did an excellent job with Trinh Cong Son’s ballads, but when Nguyen Khang and Y Phuong came together, a luscious duet was born. Y Phuong who is now officially my new girl brought down the joint with her powerful lines in “Bon Mua Thay La” and could match up with Nguyen Khang’s thuggish voice. On the Doan Chuan & Tu Linh’s medley, I was hoping for an encore of Nguyen Khang and Y Phuong, not Diem Lien. Nothing against the sweet Diem Lien, but Y Phuong’s voice is stronger and darker, something to die for. Of course, Y Phuong’s technical skill isn’t as solid as Diem Lien. She still has that breath control issue. And we could witness that in her performance of “Chiec La Cuoi Cung” along side with Bao Yen. Both voices are exceptional, yet the technical skills set Bao Yen above Y Phuong. But don’t worry baby, you still have plenty of time to work on that.

The return of Thuy Duong alone is worth penning. It’s about time, Asia. She is gorgeous, and her laid-back style, which is a perfect complement to that calm and elegant look, is irresistible. Her slow-burning rendition of Van Cao’s “Ben Xuan” is an ideal example of interpreting an old work. Her dreary phrasing made it sounded as if she was living in her own world. As listeners, we either have to get with the program or we out. Even when the arrangement got dramatic, she never seemed to be excited and still maintained her serenity. Love that attitude.

More highlights of the show are from Ngoc Ha, Dalena, and Henry Chuc. Ngoc Ha’s version of Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Tieng Song Huong” is along the line of Duc Tuan’s, but hers was not long enough to create an epic piece like his. The bosa nova-inflected “Hoang Vang” isn’t so bad. It doesn’t hurt to jazz up old tune once in awhile. The drawback is that both Dalena and Henry Chuc have no chops for scat singing.

As for negativity, enough of ink has been spilled on sex before, so I am not going to repeat myself. Besides, none of these broads, including Da Nhat Yen, Thuy Huong, Anh Minh and Vina Uyen Mi, could get me hard anymore. Ho Le Thu has topped them all. One thing I do like to point out, however, is that little Trish was freaking me out for a minute.

The Dave Brubeck Quartet’s album is the jazz joint I could jam to all night when I need a Time Out. Every track is a classic, and “Take Five” is a novelty. As the title of the song suggested, “Take Five” is based on a 5/4 meter, which is five beats per measure, instead of the traditional three or four. In the introduction, Jone Morello’s drums set up the meter, and joined by an invariant vamp from Brubeck’s piano. Then Paul Desmond’s unctuously sweet alto saxophone flow over a rhythmic and harmonic ostinato of the piano like gas gushes through glass. Since Desmond improvises on one-measure vamp instead of on the structure, the pitches are drawn mainly from the modal scales, something Miles Davis was famous for. The tune gets even better with the dope drum drops backing up by Brubeck’s insistent ostinato. All I can say is “S’wonderful.”

Truth be told, the only reason I would cop Ho Le Thu’s latest album, Buon Oi, Chao Mi, is for the CD booklet. So I could get my jerk on. She’s not a bad of a singer, more like a bitch of a singer. I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way. She’s just the type that would make your dream gone wild, especially with the new breast enhancement. She’s sexy and she knows it. Even her voice has that sultriness in it, but she still has many learning to do to transport it into her music. Her covers of old tunes aren’t awful. She just doesn’t quite understand the art of interpretation. Maybe she just needs a good producer like Duc Tri who could craft some catchy beats for her. Thuy Nga gives her nothing but a set of mechanical arrangements to go with her uninventive deliveries.

Didn’t expect it, but Dinh Tien Dat aka Mr. Dee makes some improvements with his sophomore solo, Giao Thong. The witty title track shows that Dee could craft a song based on a subject as mundane as traffic annoyances. While American rappers rhyme about anything cool but school, Dee makes it cool to be in school. On “Di Hoc,” he raps, “Nay cac ban nho phai that chiu kho / Dung thay qua kho ma cac ban lai bo / Vi trong cai kho moi lo cai khon.” Although his lyrical skill is still elementary, the positive message makes it justifiable. But that doesn’t mean Dee has not been making any progress with his writing. The autobiographical of “Chi Pheo” and the struggling of a homeless kid in “Khong Nha” proved that he has stepped up his storytelling artistry as well as his spontaneous deliveries and his ear-candy productions. Even if practice doesn’t make him perfect, it sure has paid off. Keep honing your skill, Dee!

Norah Jones, the girl who sold you sex without revealing her skin, is back with her third studio album Not Too Late. If Come Away With Me, which sold eight million copies, was to get you to runaway with her and Feels Like Home, which reached two million copies within the first month, had you settled down in a trailer home, Not Too Late, which will release at the end of January 2007, is a break-up-to-make-up deal.

On the album opener accompanied by an acoustic guitar ostinato, Jones wishes she could walk into a place you and her used to go, but she couldn’t without you. The memories are too strong, as she recounts in “Be My Somebody”: “I held your head up, do you remember? / When you wanted to make a blanket out of me / Oh I can’t lie… I been keeping score / And it’s your turn to wring me out / And lay me down to dry.” Yes, she’s mindfucking you again, and she’s damn good at it. She even invites you back to her jazzy “Little Room” that is big enough for you to do the things you like to do, and sings you a bluesy “Rosie’s Lullaby” if you are not in the mood to do anything. Can’t beat that, and it is still “Not Too Late,” to come home to mama, baby. She still wants you back because without each other, you both are going to be “Sinkin’ Soon” (a marvelous jazz arrangement with a kick-ass trombone break). So help her breathes and help her believes that you are “Not Her Friend” because she can’t pretend that you are. She can’t seem to stop “Thinking About You,” your cold hand, your broken voice, your twisted smile, and she knows exactly what you need to wash away your pain and to mend your “Broken” heart.

Talking about the art of album crafting. Jones and her musicians have mastered it by aiming straight at our soul from song to song, but in an easygoing route. Sex is presence (“Last night was a record to be broken / It broke all over the kitchen floor / Oh no don’t you go / I’m coming back with a rag / to wipe away the haze from the days / We’ve forgotten all about”) but never in your face. Affection is there but not over dramatic, thanks to that gruff voice, which sounds like a concoction of wild honey and cognac. Not Too Late will continue to dominate the pop chart and sellout like cocaine hits the street similar to its predecessors.

For a retrospective, Thanh Lam recovers eighteen selected tunes that are closed to her heart as well as her listeners’. The double-disc Giot… Lam shows that her singing has became more and more dramatic over the years. With the excessive use of vibrato, she delivers each song as if she’s about to burst into flame, but the musical productions appear to have ran out of propane. Nevertheless, the collection has its share of scintillating moments.