Ngo Thanh Van is no musician. Her previous attempts — The Gioi Tro Choi and Bi An Van Trang — have failed miserably, yet she has not stopped trying. Although My Way, her latest effort, shows some improvements, the album is still far from being successful. Her voice is still weak; her range is limited; and her phrasing lacks the emotion. However, she is a screen capturer, which makes up for her vocals. She might not be a good singer, but she is a great entertainer. She has the appearance, the grooves and the styles. These qualities shine through on her videos such as “Cho Nguoi Tinh Xa,” and “Hat Mot Minh” (not included on this album).

Ngo Thanh Van should focus more on MTV concepts and cease making albums. I would love to see her rendition of Trinh Cong Son’s “Quynh Huong” on video. Her voice is not elasticizing, but the production is tantalizing, and I am sure she can make it works on screen. On the other hand, I wish she had never done a remaking of “One More Try.” Never like the song to begin with, and the remix featuring Okio makes it worse. Ngo Thanh Van is way off tune, and she sounds like a bad karaoke amateur when switches up her vocals on the chorus. Okio’s flow is not only horrendous, but he also steals Diddy’s line, “Words can’t express what you mean to me.” Out of all the great lyricists (Rakim, Nas, Big and Pac), he uses Diddy who is not even a real MC. For god’s sake, spit your own rhymes, son. And one quick reminder: you’re featuring on Ngo Thanh Van’s My Way, not Mariah Carey’s Emancipation of Mimi.

I can’t stand the dude’s lovelorn reading on “Em Nho Anh” and can’t get with Tien Dat’s awful rapping on “Mua” either. “Lang Nghe Con Tim,” “My Way,” and “Dem Xot Xa” are equally weak. On the duet “Dung Lam Ta Canh Xa,” Tuan Hung’s overpowering vocals steal the show. The only track she can handle is “Trai Tim Tuong Da,” which has a hot beat for her to ride on.

Ngo Thanh Van is not listenable, but she is viewable. She looks sexy and elegance without appearing skanky, noticeably her style (white suits, hat, sunglasses, red dress, and her moves) on “Hat Mot Minh” video. I have to give her props for that. As far as singing, she never had style for it. She sounds fine as long as she sticks to the notes, but when she tries to do her own things, like “One More Try,” the result is unbearable.

Asia’s executives need to put their heads together to find a new subject because the returning of Mua He Ruc Ro 2005 is nothing but a huge hype. The core value of the presentation, which is showcasing of Vietnamese-American successful individuals, is weakening. What dominates the show is a whole bunch of fashion designers (do we need that many?) and Miss Vietnamese Americans that are only half-qualified. What even worse is the unentertaining musical part (with only a couple of performances stand out). Backed up by Asia’s ensemble, Nguyen Khang gives Truc Ho’s “Chang Khac Gi Nhau” a remarkable rendition.

Asia must be focusing strictly on the younger generation because, beside Thanh Tuyen and Tuan Vu, most of the singers are young, and half of the performances are filled with up-tempos and club joints. On the recovering of an ancient sugary pop “In My Fantasy,” Trish looks mad scary as a Japanese doll, and her rhythmless steps are scarier. Thai Doanh Doanh’s Chinese and English version of “Hoang Chau Cat Cat” drives me off the wall. Her performance is like an annoying filler of the show. They have nothing better to fill the space so they throw her in. What is up with the A boys? Dressing in hardcore army wears, and yet still appearing to be as soft as grapes, especially their feminine moves. They also recruited an MC who brags, “And now you want me cause I’m up in the charts.” Excuse me, what chart is he referring to? What the heck is Thien Kim doing in J-Lo-Versace dress? Her outfit is so loose that if she tries to dance, her clothes would drop. So she just stands there during the break trying to look cute, which appears more hoochie than cute to me.

Not only the performances are bad, the hosts are even worse. Viet Dzung steps out of lines a couple of times. When he tries to be funny about the “whipping,” he sounds extremely perverted for a man of his age to make such a sexual remark on a girl in her early twenties. I just could not believe it when he asks one of the girls to turn around and comments the scar on her back as “Vet Thu Tren Lung Ngua Hoang.” Doesn’t he deserve a smack for that? Trinh Hoi is not as bad as Viet Dzung, but his jokes are as tasteless as well. The way he introduces Bao Chau as “a new face with an expensive name.” Bao Chao doesn’t add anything exciting as a host either.

Asia 47 has to be one of Asia’s lamest videos ever. Please Asia, I beg you to discontinue making wasteful products. Be creative, find or write new music, and stop repeating yourself.

Ella Fitzgerald sure knew how to have fun. Her playful improvisation of “Mack the Knife” is both creative and hilarious. Her rendition of “Too Darn Hot” is too damn hot. Her live singing was as good as her studio. Oh boy, can she swing and scat on “How High the Moon?” Ella rocked Berlin.

Diana Krall kicked off her concert with “I Love Being Here With You” showcasing her astonishing piano work complemented by her skillful musicians (Jeff Hamilton on drum, John Clayton on bass and John Pisano on guitar). Krall’s recovering of “Let’s Fall in Love” is reviving, and Hamilton’s brushwork is a perfect foil for her contemporary style. The bossa nova groove on “‘s Wonderful” is ‘s marvelous. Krall rocked Paris.

In contrast to Diana Krall’s raspy voice, Tarry Blaine has a sweet, suave tone with a sense of playful. The childlike “Eeny Meeny Miney Mo” is a perfect song for opening the concert. Love the sound of Allan Vaché’s Clarinet. Her version of Billie Holliday’s medley (“When a Woman Loves a Man/My Man”) is obviously not as emotional as Billie (no one can interpret unrequited love better than the Lady Day), but she has made it sound modern. Some highlights of the show includes “A Little Bit Independent” (dig Mark Shane’s piano and Ed Polcer’s cornet), “Carolina Shout” (instrumental) and “I’d Love To Take Orders From You” (the most politically incorrect song). Blaine rocked Cleveland.

Smithsonian Collection of Jazz Piano volume 1, 2, 3 and 4 go way back to Jelly Roll Morton, James P. Johnson and Fats Waller all the way up to Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett and Herbie Hancock. It’s beautiful just to experience how jazz piano had grown in both styles and sounds.

When the two jazz pianists, Duke Ellington and Count Basie, met for the First Time, the heat was on. From the opening “Battle Royal” to the ending “Jumpin’ at the Woodside,” the two big bands combined put the studio on fire. The record is hypnotizing.

Get up close and personal with Thelonious Himself to appreciate Monk’s style. His infamous twenty-two-minute rendition of “‘Round Midnight” is marvelous. Dig the way he pounded the keyboard: both dramatic and emotional. “Functional” is another delightful piece, in which his phrasing is gorgeous.

Maiden Voyage featured four cool-jazz pieces. Along side with Trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, tenor saxophonist George Coleman and drummer Tony Williams, Herbie Hancock’s piano takes listeners on a soothing cruise on water.

One of Thuy Nga’s recurring programs is introducing Vietnamese songwriters. Paris By Night 78: Duong Xua featured songbooks of Quoc Dung, Chau Ky and Tung Giang whose works have been covered numerous times. Yet, Thuy Nga’s producers and arrangers have crafted new sounds and chosen right voices (most of the time) to give these dated songs new flavors.

Khanh Ha starts off the show with a fresh rendition of Quoc Dung’s “Chi La Mua Thu Roi.” If there were a fire, the dancers and Khanh Ha would be roasted in those weird outfits that were made out of magazines. Quoc Dung is a passable singer. His duet with Thanh Mai on the medley (“Que Huong va Mong Uoc,” “Bien Mong” and “Ben Nhau Ngay Vui”) brings us back to three decades ago when the two sang together in Sai Gon. Then Luu Bich and the musicians give “Hat Mua va Noi Nho” a new vibe by injecting bosa nova into Quoc Dung’s pop tune (mad props to the horns blowers). The most astonishing part of Quoc Dung’s portion is the combining of “Con Gio Thoang” and “Trai Tim Toi Loi.” Bang Kieu and Thanh Ha have done an outstanding vocal job, but what makes the performance indelible is Vuong Huong’s profound piano presentation. Her solo is unbelievable. Every finger she drops releases emotion (Don’t believe me? Check out her rendition of Trinh Cong Son’s “Bien Nho,” via Song Vinh). On the flip side, Manh Quynh could not express “Chuyen Ba Nguoi” to its fullest, and Ho Le Thu bares her skin instead of soul on “Chin Con So, Mot Linh Hon.”

Chau Ky’s part of the show is for the older generation. Che Linh gives a flawless recovering of “Tuy Ca,” a song that once made him popular. He maybe aged, but his voice is ageless (it must be the liquor that clears his throat). Phuong Hong Que and Mai Truc provide a savory medley on Chau Ky’s standards: “Khuya Nay Anh Di Roi,” “Em Khong Buon Nua Chi Oi,” “Giot Le Dai Trang” (the story behind this song is intriguing. Too bad, Nguyen Ngoc Ngan cuts him off) and “Dung Noi Xa Nhau.” Like Che Linh, Hoang Oanh’s vocal is yet to be matched on “Sau Chua Thay Hoi Am.” If Thuy Nga could invite Thanh Thuy for an encore on “Tieng Ca Do Ve Dau,” it would have made a deeper impact. Truong Vu does a fantastic job, but “TCDVD” is a Thanh Thuy’s signiture.

Tung Giang’s section shifts back to the younger audience. Duong Trieu Vu’s rhythmless two-step is less than convincing on “Biet Den Thuo Nao.” Nhu Quynh’s stilted flow screws up “Anh Da Quen Mua Thu.” Putting Nhu Quynh with Luu Bich and Khanh Ha, what were they thinking? It’s like country meets pop and jazz. Tran Thu Ha would have been a better choice. In fact, Khanh Ha, Tran Thu Ha and Thanh Ha would make a great trio. They can call themselves “Ha Ba Sac” (Three Ha’s Colors). Each brings a unique hue to the palette. Strongest from Tung Giang’s set is Tran Thu Ha’s pop-jazz “Toi Voi Troi Bo Vo.” Her version is both unique and creative. She has her chops down to the ground, and Thuy Nga is smart for allowing her to do her things. She brings a new group of audience that Thuy Nga never had. Thuy Tien then wraps up the show with the bouncy “Nguoi Tinh Nguoi Dep Xinh Xinh.” The song is perfect for her because she is a doll. She has always appeared to be cute with her baby face, but the make-up gives her a more matured look this time, which is very attractive.

Thuy Nga has toned down the sexy appearances for Paris By Night 78, and focused more on the musical productions. Now that’s what I am looking for. Does that mean Thuy Nga has read my previous review? I doubt it, but at least we are on the same page on this well-crafted video.

Luu Hong is one of the most overlooked musicians in the Vietnamese-American community. If she didn’t collaborate with Ngoc Lan, I would have not known her. The medley (“Lien Khuc Chieu Mua”) that they worked together for Asia Entertainment was breathtaking. The way their voices complemented each other on Trinh Cong Son’s ”Nhu Canh Vac Bay” and Nhat Ngan’s ”Qua Con Me” was like a smooth blend of an alto sax (Ngoc Lan) and tenor sax (Luu Hong) floated over Asia’s crisp arrangements with endless imagination. I was blown away by their performances.

Obviously, Ngoc Lan was no stranger to me, but Luu Hong was. Her distinctive voice mesmerized me. She had just the right amount of thickness in her vocals that would give any song that she sings some textures. Her phrasings were effortless, and her timings were perfect even though Asia’s beats were faster than the original tempos. Her rendition of “Nhung Doi Hoa Sim” (poem by Huu Loan and music by Chinh Dzung) on the medley was one of the best I have heard.

After listening to “Lien Khuc Chieu Mua”, I determined to get Luu Hong’s solo albums, but could only found one from Ca Dao Productions. Even though I was disappointed by the horrible cover design and the lack of credits (songwriters and producers), I copped Mua Dem Ngoai O anyway because I know the voice is incomparable. I was hoping for the production to be at least decent for her to ride on.

The good part is that the arrangements are sharp. The not-so-good part is that I have heard of them countless times before. I am not even sure how old the album is, but it does not matter because the old tunes bring back good old memories. While the tango joints like “Ai Di Ngoai Suong Gio,” “Ngang Trai” and “Do Chieu” take me back to ballroom floor, the waltz groove on “Tinh Mua Gio” makes me want to whirl around the room like Nguyen Hung and Thuy Van on Da Vu Quoc Te.

Luu Hong’s song selections are romantic ballads (nhac tru tinh). Nothing’s wrong with that. One of her strengths is her ability to maintain her effortlessness when approaching songs like “Diep Khuc Thuong Dau,” “Dang Do” and “Tuyet Tinh.” Her heartfelt emotion is there on the tracks, but her expression is never mournful. A few singers have sing these songs like their worlds have come to an end, and I can’t get with that. On the title track, “Mua Dem Ngoai O,” her slightly gruff timbre hugs around the soothing saxophone giving a vivid image of a rainy night in a quiet countryside somewhere in the west of Viet Nam.

Dem Mua Ngoai O is a delicious set from song to song that could be replayed for savory experiences. I don’t know if Luu Hong is still singing or not. Her voice is hypnotizing, and it would be a darn shame if she has retired.

Any Vietnamese songster who has not recorded a Trinh Cong Son’s album should start thinking about it now to get the tradition over with. That’s right, every well-known musician has released at least a Trinh’s record during his or her career. Even Phuong Thanh wants a piece of Trinh’s work, isn’t that incredible? Whenever a Trinh’s album is released, the controversy is inevitable, and Phuong Thanh’s Thuong Mot Nguoi (To Love Someone) is no exemption. Even before the album hits the racks, Trinh’s lovers have expressed frustrations; however, they can be reassured that Phuong Thanh has not destroyed anything.

Unlike Thanh Lam who has always stirred things up by singing Trinh’s songs with her powerful and intricate techniques, Phuong Thanh sticks to the script, which is unusual because she has never been a gentle vocalist. She is a belter with a huge, scratchy voice. Yet, the soft and straightforward approach works because it allows her emotion to carry the weight. Even the productions (from Kim Tuan, Hoai Sa, Vinh Tam, and Duc Tri) are kept to the minimal, simple strumming guitar accompanied most tracks, to allow Phuong Thanh’s aspirate voice be the essence. As a result, the album is delivered with honesty and sincerity from the opening “Cat Bui” (Sand and Dust) to the closing “Ca Dao Me” (Mother’s Folk Poetry).

The strength of Thuong Mot Nguoi is in the maturity of her vocals. We can enjoy her singing instead of screaming on “Uot Mi” (Tearful) and “Bien Nho” (The Sea Will Miss). Her croaky timbre sounds sweet rather than heavy on “Diem Xua” (Miss Diem) and “Rung Xua Da Khep” (The Old Forest Has Closed). Her breath control is a tremendous improvement, distinctly on “Tinh Xa” (Far Love). The heartrending “Ca Dao Me” would have been perfect if she could keep her breathing off the track like the way she does with “Tinh Xa” because the phrasing is superb, and the sentiment is there.

Thuong Mot Nguoi is neither groundbreaking nor outstanding, but much better than what I have expected. Take that as a compliment from a guy who has not been feeling Phuong Thanh since the days of “Trong Vang” (Emptiness). Congratulations on the baby girl as well as the success of the album. Hope this is a new turning point for Phuong Thanh.

If I am being too hard on the young singers in my music comment, that’s partly because of Lady Day. Billie Holiday was a phenomenon. No, she still is. Her style, her phrasing, her interpretation, her timing and her voice are yet to be matched. She sang as if she had lived the lyrics. She always sounded behind the beat, but never missed it. No matter how rough she came across, especially during the mid 50s when her voice deteriorated, the sweetness deep inside her vocals was always present. Most important of all, her breath control was never less than perfect.

For those who haven’t experienced the Lady Day, I highly recommend giving Billie’s Best a spin. Although this collection from Verve only provides a portion of Billie’s classics, it will give you a nice taste of the lady that sings the blues like no others; and the productions are crisp too. Obviously, every song is a hit, but pay close attention to “Stormy Blues,” “Come Love,” “Come Rain or Come Shine,” “Foggy Day,” and “U… u… u… What a Little Moonlight Can Do.”

I listen to her albums when there is completely no distraction. I can’t even play her music while working, because she demands so much concentration that I would not be able to get anything done. Listen to Holiday without paying attention to her every word is like playing chess without thinking. As I am writing this in Barnes & Noble’s café, I am noticing how chess players are thinking and planning their every move. That’s where the comparison comes from, in case you’re wondering.

The name Jazzy Da Lam has been floating around many Vietnamese-related Web sites including this one. Her low-quality MP3’s have created a nice buzz for her profile. Jazz fans have been waiting patiently to hear what this young pianist/singer/composer/writer who has been studying music in Germany has to offer. After two years in production, Da Lam’s debut Moon & You (Trang & Em), a collaboration with German musicians, is ready to introduce to Vietnamese audiences worldwide.

Moon & You embodied four tracks from her pen, and the remaining lyrics, including three English songs, were written by others, but all composed by Da Lam. “Khuc Dem” opens the album with a soothing Latin-jazz fusion. Her soft and clear vocals give the palette a calming color. The way she scats near the end is exhilarating. On the classical “Vat Trang,” Vincent Nguyen’s languorous arrangement sets off the mood by leading listeners into a nocturnal atmosphere. Da Lam voice then joins in and takes us into her magical world, (“Mot dem trang buoc xuong doi / ngam suong nha trang mai doi”), while the orchestration (strings, flute, clarinet, contra bass, and piano) weaving in and out of her aspirate vocals as if sharing her thoughts and soul. Assisted by Ingolf Burkhardt’s silken trumpet, she curls her feathery voice effortlessly around the smooth jazz arrangement on “Trang & Em.”

“Hay Ve Day” is what Da Lam threw in to flirt with the young heads. The funk-pop production is spicy; her voice is spicier. Sex is everywhere: in the sax, in the voice and in the words. Listen to the way she croons the refrain, “Hay ve day / an ai ta co nhau trong dam say / huong tinh yeu thom ngat bao dem lam em ngat ngay / dau nam thang xa cach cho tai te noi dang cay / hay quay ve day.” She begs you to come back and make love to her. She has been waiting for way too long. Can’t you smell the sweet scent of love? She is yearning for your touch. If that is not a booty call, then I don’t know what is.

True to her name, which was given by her online friends, jazz and blues fit her style like hand in glove. On the soulful blues, “Mau Dem,” she floats heartfelt over the light brushwork and shimmering flute riffs. By fusing Vietnamese folk into jazz with her own elegant piano work, Da Lam gives an electrifying presentation on “Vong Dem,” creating a gorgeous image of a Vietnamese women with milky breasts rocking her baby to sleep (“bo mi oi khep ngoan a oi / bau nguc thom huong sua oi a”).

Da Lam not only impresses us with her composing, singing, and writing original music, but also strikes us with her ability to perform in English. Her accentuations are exotic on “Life is” and “When I am With You,” but her timbres are banal on the pop tunes. Although the record featured various styles, it doesn’t feel disorienting thanks to Vincent Nguyen’s focused arrangements and orchestrations, and the night theme Da Lam has cleverly crafted. Yet, I still prefer a solid concentration of jazz and classic. Unlike many new musicians, Da Lam has tremendous potential and proper training in writing and performing, especially in jazz. Like many new singers, her voice is still a work in progress, noticeably her breath control. Nevertheless, her debut is still a sensation.

Thanh Lam and Le Minh Son, once again, reinvigorated Trinh Cong Son’s pop standards on Nay Em Co Nho, their third studio collaboration. By weaving eastern instruments (three-stringed lute, sixteen-stringed zither and flute) into the western (piano, guitar, violin, viola, and cello), Le Minh Son produced ingenious semi-classic harmonies. The east-meets-west musical palette gives Thanh Lam plenty of colors and room to paint Trinh’s lyrical images.

Like most Vietnamese singers (and listeners), Thanh Lam loves and respects Trinh’s works. Even though she approaches his materials with her own passion, especially on the voluptuous rendition of “Phoi Pha,” she never fails to embrace his melodies, caress his verses, and nurture his rhymes. Even on the weird recovering of “Mot Coi Di Ve,” she coarsens and punctuates in strange places, but Trinh’s aesthetics never leave the canvas. At first, I preferred the old jazz standard version, which she gave an indelible presentation on the classic Ru Doi Di Nhe, over the new eccentric classical-jazz arrangement by pianist Tran Manh Hung; however, I am more convinced after several spins. The oddness becomes natural, and that’s the way the album grows: slowly but surely.

Trinh’s signature pieces are not new to us, but Thanh Lam’s deliveries are. Like the way she flows in and out of the staccato violin on “Lang Le Noi Nay” is breathtaking. On “Nay Em Co Nho,” she maneuvers skillfully around the sonorous violin and piano accents giving the title track a soulful performance. Accompanied by Le Minh Son’s nimble-fingered guitar, Thanh Lam gives “Bien Nho” a gorgeous reminiscent of Khanh Ly and Trinh Cong Son, despite the differences in styles. Elsewhere, the clear-pitched flute not only balances her slightly gruff voice, but also assists her to paint incomparable images of Saigon, such as sunrises, rainfalls, streetlights, green tamarind leafs and familiar bricks, on the nostalgic “Em Con Nho Hay Em Da Quen.”

Last year, Thanh Lam and Le Minh Son shocked us with the groundbreaking Ru Mai Ngan Nam. If the sequel does not strike our chords, it is because we are used to its predecessor. In any rate, Nay Em Co Nho is unquestionably an expansive artistic vision from an accomplished vocalist and a talented producer.

Thanks Thao Suong for the album.