In Thuy Nga’s special DVD, Da Vu Quoc Te, Nguyen Hung and the Paris By Night’s dancers stomped the floor. Nguyen Hung is undoubtedly a skillful dancer, but Thuy Van is the one that set the stage ablaze. Her erotic appearance and her luscious steps damn near kick him off the frame. Although the cameras focus more on him, my attention switches from him to her within the first minute on the lead-off pasodoble performance of “Malaguena.” The red dress looks so hot on her, not to mention what the skirt reveals. By the time the second presentation (“Ngu Di Em”) arrives, he appears like nothing but a moving poll for her to grind on. The skin-liked outfit makes her look like a piece of fresh meat that best eats raw. The way she moves on her own choreographed rumba is jaw dropping.

On the next performance, which is the chachacha’s “Ai Se La Em,” Nguyen Hung’s screen presence shines because Thuy Van is not in it. However, she is back on “Black is Black,” and continues to dominate the stage in cowboy boots, hat, and strap while Nguyen Hung looks mad gay in his tight clothes that reveal nothing but his gut. Nguyen Hung is fit, but he is not as young and as built as the male dancers. He has the move, but not the six packs; therefore, suits fit him better. On “Tinh Nghia Doi Ta Chi The Thoi,” Nguyen Hung finally gains his stage presence in a handsome suit and gives a fantastic tango performance with Thuy Van. Once again, Thuy Van has done a wonderful job at choreographing the chachacha on “Lien Khuc Khong 1 & 2,” and her singing is not outstanding but listenable. Obviously, Ho Le Thu is nowhere near Thuy Van in term of dancing. The music video concept on “Bang Bang” is surprisingly clever, and Nguyen Cao Ky Duyen’s moves are not so bad either.

Although Da Vu Quoc Te is Nguyen Hung’s show, Thuy Van steals the attention whenever she is in it. Mad props go to Shanda Sawyer as well as Thuy Van for their creative minds as choreographers. Except for the first couple of songs where Nguyen Hung’s steps are a bit feminine, he has done a great job as a singer and dancer. I wish they had added the swing to the video. Swing is fun, and I want to see Thuy Van swings her things.

Music of Ngo Thuy Mien and Trinh Cong Son has been done many times with jazz-inflected renditions. The pop-jazz fusions give NTM’s and TCS’s signature pieces new sounds, and please most bourgeois, but not the aficionados. To transform Vietnamese ballads from jazz intimation into real jazz, we need the experts. In 2000, Lang Van production distributed Purple Refrain — a live jazz session performed by the jazz pianist Peter Zak and his band. With John Wiitala on bass, Edward McClary on drums, and Dave Tidball on saxophone, Peter Zak turned NTM’s and TCS’s pop standards into phenomenon jazz tunes.

Zak’s unique approach to Vietnamese music and his ingenious escapes from the written melody make Purple Refrain an unforgettable art. He has not only found his way into the music, but also breaks down the melodies, then re-assembles them with his own interpretation to suit the complex, syncopated rhythms of jazz. For instance, he plays his piano at a doubled tempo on “Vanishing” (TCS’s “Phoi Pha”) instead of sticking with slow harmony. On the title track, “Purple Refrain” (NTM’s “Dau Tinh Sau”), he starts off with the original melody, but shifts gears toward the middle with his own elegant piano improvisation. The results are groundbreaking because Zak’s trio lets TCS and NTM music flow in away they never had before.

By putting on a feverish jazz spin, Zak’s trio gives the classics “To You With Love” (NTM’s “Giang Ngoc”) and “Without You” (NTM’s “Chieu Nay Khong Co Em”) a fresh makeover. With the addition of Dave Tidball’s polished and sensuous saxophone, both “After Times” (TCS’s “Nghe Nhung Tan Phai”) and “In a Deserted Town” (TCS’s “Du Muc”) are soothing, reviving and invigorating. Accompanied by the drunking bass and dynamic drums, the piano and the saxophone complement each other creating endless imagination on both compositions. I wish “The Last Love Song” (NTM’s “Ban Tinh Cuoi”) could have performed with the quartet instead of the trio. The song requires tremendous emotions, and the tenor saxophone would have done a fantastic job at the bridge where the male voice crescendoes, “Tinh la dang… cay…” (Love is bit…ter…).

What I like most about Purple Refrain is how Zak was able to create true jazz music without loosing the Vietnamese aesthetics. My respect and appreciation go to Lang Van production, Peter Zak and his band for bringing jazz to the Vietnamese community, as well as bringing Vietnamese music to the western audience. I hope Peter Zak and his crew could produce more albums like Purple Refrain, a gorgeous jazz flavor with a Vietnamese essence.

A Visualgui.com reader asked me if I’ve heard of Ngoc Anh and if I have to recommend one of her albums, which one would it be? I told him Ngoc Anh was a member of 3A group, and she has a strange scratch, which I adore, in her voice; however, I could not recommend any of her albums because I have not listen to any of them. So this is an opportunity to give Ngoc Anh a try. After a few minutes visiting her site and looking at her records, Ngoc Anh Online jumps right at me. It’s her latest album. The title is cheesy but catchy, and I like it because “online” refers to the web. What can I say? I like anything that has to do with the web.

Ngoc Anh caught my attention when she sang “Anh Da Khac Xua” (You’ve Changed) on Do Bao’s Canh Cung (Bow’s Wing), which featured various artists including Tran Thu Ha, Khanh Linh, and Ho Quynh Huong. Unlike these female musicians who gave Do Bao’s romantic compositions soft and sweet sounds, Ngoc Anh brought the roughness and bitterness into his work with her raspy voice. “Anh Da Khac Xua” is also featured on this album along with Do Bao’s “Bai Hat Cho Em” (A Song For You). “Anh Da Khac Xua” fits Ngoc Anh like a pair of tight jeans because the song requires deep emotions and she has it in her vocals; however, the sugary and chocolaty “Bai Hat Cho Em” fits songbird Khanh Linh better. Ngoc Anh’s style is superior on the hard-rock rendition of Ngoc Dai and Ngoc Oanh’s “Canh Dieu” (Kite’s Wing) and the trance-remixed version of Kim Ngoc’s “Chi La Giac Mo” (Only a Dream).

Lately, Duc Huy’s songs are being covered by a number of young singers in Viet Nam such as Dam Vinh Hung, Thu Minh, and Hien Thuc. Unfortunately, only Thu Minh can revived Duc Huy’s “Va Con Tim Da Vui Tro Lai” (And The Heart is Happy Once Again) with a bit of freshness. Other singers in Viet Nam, including Ngoc Anh, are still not able to match those in the States. Ngoc Anh’s rendition of “Nhu Da Dau Yeu” (Like We Have Loved) lacks the crispness and soulfulness that Ngoc Lan and Don Ho had brought to the work. Both Ngoc Anh and Hien Thuc could not express “Dung Xa Em Dem Nay” (Don’t Leave Me Tonight) as lithe and sultry as Duc Huy’s wife, Thao My. Since Duc Huy’s compositions were born in the States, they should stay in the States.

Online may not be a strong album for song selections, but Ngoc Anh’s gravel voice is always a pleasure to listen to, and the polished productions from Do Bao, Thanh Phuong, and Huy Tuan help too. She turns Phu Quang and Thai Thang Long’s “Muon” (Late) into a hot club joint, and delivers a heart-wrenching, soul-stirring emotion on Phu Quang and Nguyen Trong Tao’s “Mot Dai Kho, Mot Toi” (One Foolish, One Me). I am feeling her gravel timbre: crack on the surface but smooth underneath.

Asia’s Hanh Trinh 30 Nam, a Vietnamese Legacy, is more convincing than Thuy Nga’s 30 Nam Vien Xu. For one, Asia did not make their video looks like they just want to cash in on the event, even though it was one of the main purposes. For two, they were able to stick to the theme throughout the video by eliminating most of the sex-driven performances. All the hosts, especially Duong Ngoc Anh, had done an excellent job of leading the program. Even Trinh Hoi had improved tremendously from the previous show, My Nhan Ngu.

The main theme of Hanh Trinh 30 Nam is to celebrate and look back at what expatriate Vietnamese has accomplished over the past thirty years in America and around the world. The video also brings up some controversial issues, but let just stay with the musical performances. While Thanh Thuy, Le Thu, and Thanh Tuyen continued to sway us with their timeless voices, Phan Van Hung captured our soul for the first time appearring on Asia with his own heart-wrenching composition, “20 Nam.” Mad props to Asia production for putting on a Ngoc Lan’s dedication. While Y Phuong and Thanh Truc had done their best to bring back the indelible image of Ngoc Lan. Tuan Vu and Son Tuyen took us back to the good old days when “Nguoi Yeu Co Don” touched every lonely heart of Vietnamese American. From Ngoc Huyen to Thien Kim to Don Ho, each singer provides emotional strength to the show. Even Trish has written an emotional song for the event. Once again, Asia has created one of the best DVDs of the year.

Vietnamese-songbird Khanh Linh flies freely on her debut Hoa Mi Hot Trong Mua (Nightingale Sings in the Rain). Unlike Ngoc Khue’s Ben Bo Ao Nha Minh (By Our Pond), Hoa Mi Hot Trong Mua does not strike the shocking chord, but the strength is in the relaxing and easy-listening experience. Khanh Linh’s soft, sweet and sensuous voice gives Duong Thu’s folk compositions a fresh rebirth, even though they have been successfully covered by notorious names like Hong Nhung, Thanh Lam and My Linh.

Hoa Mi Hot Trong Mua consists of five tracks from Duong Thu and five from Ngoc Chau who is Khanh Linh’s older brother. Ngoc Chau is also responsible for the splendid production for the album. The flute and the piano on the title track, “Hoa Mi Hot Trong Mua,” are simple but seducing, and Khanh Linh makes the song sounds as if Duong Thu has written it exclusively for her. Her soprano voice is impressive when she emphasizes the word “hot” (bird sings). She almost sings opera but with a much lighter touch. The new-age vibe on Duong Thu and Nguyen Cuong’s “Hoi Tho Mua Xua” (The Breath of Spring) is sharp and ingenious. The exhilarating-saxophone break gives the song a drop of smooth jazz. On “Bai Hat Ru Mua Xuan” (A Lullaby of Spring), Khanh Linh starts off with a soothing a cappella then follows by a breathtaking fusion of horn and strings.

On Ngoc Chau’s compositions, Khanh Linh flows her heartfelt emotion effortlessly into “Dieu Khong The Mat” (Something Can’t Be Lost), a beautiful devotion to the mothers. The modern version of Miss Tam (“Co Tam Ngay Nay”) has both the traditional folk melody (the flute) and contemporary fresh tempo (the beat). Embedded in between the old and new sounds, Khanh Linh’s weightless vocals make “Co Tam Ngay Nay” an attractive hit. However, the record departs from the folk standards on “Qua Tang Trai Tim” (A Gift for the Heart), in which the guitar riff gives a rock attitude. Then the album-closer “Tam Biet” (Good Bye) leaves listeners with a slow pop. Hopefully, these two tracks are only her experimentations. She sounds best on soulful folk, not trendy pop nor hard rock.

Sure, Luu Chi Vy’s debut album, Mong Nguoi Ta Luon Tot… Luon Yeu Em (Hope He Will Always Be Good… Aways Love You), makes a perfect coffee-shop music. It has all the right hooks, melodies, and lyrics. Yet, catchy as hell is Luu Chi Vy’s charming, sweet, and vestal voice. He sounds more convincing for a pretty boy who has been dumped for the first time than a handsome guy chasing after girls.

The album showcases seven most pathetic songs written by Nhat Trung. After listening to the whole joint, the chorus that sticks out is “Va the la anh sang sang cu café / Va the la anh toi toi cung café / Chi muon gap em de anh xin so phone / Nhung sao anh chang thay em.” Even for none-Vietnamese listeners, they could easily understand the lyrics if they could pick up the words café and phone. Nhat Trung should be able to go to any coffee shop in Viet Nam and drink for free since “Chay Theo Co Be Yeu” (Chasing the Lovely Girl), a cha-cha-inflected groove, is a coffee-shop anthem.

Nhat Trung has not only written some of the elementary lyrics with lengthy titles – “Mong Nguoi Ta Luon Tot… Luon Yeu Em,” “Nguoi Ay va Toi Em Phai Chon” (Him and Me You Have to Choose), and “Hom Qua Khac… Hom Nay Khac” (Yesterday was different… Today is Different) – he has also injected Chinese melodies into his compositions. Every song has the smooth and syrupy Chinese vibes that would enhance the bitter coffee without adding sugar and extra spices.

Even though I don’t like my coffee black, sugary pops aren’t the right flavor for my cup of coffee either. But that’s just me, an old guy who isn’t moved by Luu Chi Vu’s pathos. Ladies are probably crying their hearts out while listening to the emotional “Khong The O Ben Nhau” (Can’t Be Together). The trick is that if he could get the girls to come, the boys will follow. The formula works like a magic stick.

I have underestimated Thu Minh, the chick with a cute face and a voluptuous figure. Her third album, Neu Nhu, has a few hits, and she knows how to revamp old popular songs, such as “Anh Sang Cua Doi Toi” (The Light of My Life), “60 Nam Cuoc Doi” (60 Years of Life) and “Va Con Tim Da Vui Tro Lai” (And The Heart is Happy Once Again) sound new and bouncy without loosing the aesthetic quality. She has an effervescent voice, a stage charisma, and she can work that sexy body too. Yet, I predict that she could not get further then where she has been on Neu Nhu – a trendy album that rocks the crowd for a short period of time. Therefore, when her forth album, Tinh Em, drops (within only seven months apart), I pay no mind to it, until I encounter her refreshing rendition of Van Cao’s “Song Lo” (Lo River). I picked up the album and utterly surprised by how high she has stepped up from her previous work.

Tinh Em (My Love) is not about the average boys-and-girls-romantic love. The album is about patriotism. Now, ladies and gentlemen, don’t get all hype up because I am praising “communist music.” As long as the production is crisp and the performance is tight from song to song, screw the politics. If expatriate Vietnamese can write about their mournful lost, the communist can write about their pride too. As far as I am concern, music has no border. So just listen and enjoy the work itself.

With the politics out of the way, let’s jump right into the blazing tracks. Once again, Thu Minh revives the traditional village music (nhac dan toc) by making “Bong Cay Ko-Nia” (Shadow of Ko-Nia Tree) lively and contemporary with her sultry vocals and ingenious arrangement. The lyrics on “Thuyen va Ben” (Ship and Sea) have some charming metaphors: “Chi co thuyen moi hieu / bien menh mong nhuong nao / Chi co bien moi biet / thuyen di dau ve dau” (Rough translation: Only ship knows / how wide the sea is / Only sea knows / where ship goes and returns), and Thu Minh gives a poignant delivery with her cogent voice. “Dem Nay Anh O Dau?” (Where Are You Tonight?) is about pride, patriotism and love: “Em dang bay vao trong mo / Thay em duoc ra chien truong / Cung anh chien dau / quyet song chet cung co nhau… / Voi niem tin anh thang giac / du bao nam thang / du nang mua em van cho” (Rough translation: I am flying in my dream / See myself in battlefield / By your side / live or die together… / With a belief that you will / defeat your enemy / Even when it rains or shines / I’ll still be waiting). When she sings that chorus, Thu Minh commends our attention with the courage in her vocals.

If “Gui Nang Cho Em” (Sending Sunshine to You) and “Ha Noi Mua Thu” (Fall in Ha Noi) are too sentimental and forlorn, Thu Minh closes out the album with the upbeat remix of “Nho Thanh Pho Hoa Dao” (Remembering the City of Blossoms) to balance out the vibe. So I was wrong about Thu Minh. She is not only a hot babe, but she also has some real talent, and Tinh Em proves it. The album is striking from hits after unexpected hits.

Ngoc Dai’s second installment of his Solar Eclipse series should be called Nhat Thuc 1.5 instead of Nhat Thuc 2. The album has seven tracks total, yet three of them are republished from the first release with the lyrics rewritten. Even though Tung Duong and Khanh Linh have done their best to keep the record on lock, it still falls short.

Fortunately, the remaining four tracks are galvanizing. Tung Duong gives an unforgettable performance on “Mo” (Dream). His voice fits Do Bao’s jazz arrangement like a glove. On “Tu Tinh” (Self Expression), he maneuvers his delivery to match up with the rock fusion, and the result is irresistible. As for Khanh Linh, she invigorates Ngoc Dai’s contemporary-folk “Tam Dem” (Night Bath) with her emotional strengths and playful phrasings. Together, Tung Duong and Khanh Linh transform “Co Trang” (White Stork) into a masterpiece that showcases Ngoc Dai’s craftsmanship. The arrangement is exotic; the voices are exquisite; and the lyrics are eccentric.

Despite how many genres (jazz, rock, pop, and folk) infused into the songs, the album never gets distracted. It still remains coherent from start to finish. If Nhat Thuc 2 continues the journey by going forward and not looking back, it would have been as successful as the first one. Sure, I don’t blame Ngoc Dai for rewriting the lyrics because of the copyright controversy on the first album; however, to reissue them on the second part is not working.

No, not the Thuy Nga’s babe Thuy Tien, I am talking about the twenty-year-old Thuy Tien from Kien Giang who is the newest eccentric female singer in Viet Nam. Similar to Ngoc Khue, she establishes herself a unique style right from the beginning of her career. Axing out the trendy tunes, her debut, Ngot va Dang (Sweet and Bitter), goes straight to the dark and solitude corner.

While young singers, like My Tam, Ho Quynh Huong, and Trish Thuy Trang, write about their banal relationships, Thuy Tien composes simple but poetic rhymes to express herself. On the lullaby, “A Oi,” she sings about her fatherless life – “Ngu ngoan di nhe nao ta khuya roi / Vong dong dua nhe ru doi mo coi” – as she lulls herself to sleep. Also from her own pen, her mournful voice floats on “Bong Toi” (Shadow) like a ghost creeping by our side. The best part about these two tracks is that they do not follow a certain melody, yet they come together in a weird way.

Quoc Bao is the man behind the remaining seven songs on the album. The lead-off “Cho” (Wait) starts off soft, but quickly turns into a hardcore punk rock like it has been waiting to explode. Then “Vui” (Joy) mellows out the mood with just her soulful vocals accompanied by the sonorous piano accents. “Ta Da Yeu Trong Mua Gio” (We Fall in Love During the Wind Season) is another quiet track in which her voice is melting the lyrics around the soft and gentle melody. The a cappella “Dieu Ru Vuc Sau” (The Deep Lullaby) is an innovative folk song that has two voices weaving together in an indelible conversational tone.

Thuy Tien is obviously new, her breath control and inexperienced phrasing show it; however, her passion along with her unorthodox style make her a rare gem among today’s pop singers. Ngot va Dang is an exotic album not only to listen but also to feel. It’s not about technique; it’s about soul.

As a guest appearance on Kanye West’s “Get Em High,” Common flows with anguish, “How could I ever let your words effect me? / They say hip-hop is dead / I’m here to resurrect me.” Now with his latest album, Be, Common resuscitates himself with poetic rhymes and narrative deliveries weaved together by West’s soulful samplings.

Like Jay-Z’s Black Album, Common’s Be is structured in a minimal setting to provide audiences an intimate listening experience. The arrangements are subtle but carry enough strength to hold the album together. From “The Corner” to “The Food,” every song has a story to tell, and Common tells it like it is: “The corner where struggle and greed fight / We write songs about wrong cause it’s hard to see right / Look to the sky hoping it will bleed light / Reality’s a bitch and I heard that she bites.”

Misogynist rappers, such as 50 Cent, Eminem and Cam’ron, often refer to women as bitches and hoes. Common envisions women as something else, “What if god was a her?” Even after breaking up with his girlfriend, Erykah Badu, Common never trashes her like what Em does to Kim and 50 does to Vivica. He is the man to respect, and Jay-Z did that on his song, “Moment of Clarity.” To show Jay the same respect, Common responses with, “My man retired, I ma take over” on “Chi-City.”

Common is a lyricist and he uses his wordplay to elevate the art of storytelling. Scored by West’s lively arrangement, Common built an approachable scene on “Testify” with his cinematic-driven concept. Other than two tracks come from DILLA’s production, West is responsible for all of the beats, and his finest work is the jazz-inflected groove on “Real People.” Because the horn riff is so intoxicating, trying to follow the lyrics is nearly impossible. Wouldn’t it be interesting if Common scats to the arrangement with his scratchy voice?

Be is undeniably a success and almost, but not quite, perfect. The flaws are in some of the hooks. For instance, the repetitive chorus of “Go!” is annoying, and all John Mayer brings to the track is the echoing of “go.” To rhyme with the word “kids,” West raps over the hook, “So I had to did, what I have to did” on “The Food.” Real clever, Kanye. Despite the nursery choruses, Be – be simple, be free and be yourself – is a true hip-hop work of art.