5 Dong Ke, an eccentric name, signifies the individual characteristics from a group that made up of four (the fifth member, Giang Son, has moved on to be a solo songwriter) young and voluptuous ladies whose gorgeous voices blend together seamlessly to create breathtaking harmonies. What sets these girls (Bao Lan, Hong Ngoc, Thuy Linh and Lan Huong) apart from other bands is their willingness to explore new path. Their latest album, Tu Tinh Ca, which took two years to prepare, showcases their jaw-dropping a cappella techniques. And the most striking part about the band is the way these four talented musicians breathe together with a kind of connection that can only be accomplished through love, respect, practice and devotion.

Through Tu Tinh Ca, the girls transform familiar songs into their personal statements by daringly maneuvering around old song structures to create new sounds. With perfect intonations and rich melodic lines, they give Trinh Cong Son’s “Tien Thoai Luong Nan” a pure rejuvenation. Their a-cappella rendition, which filled with exquisite vocal harmonies, is one of the finest presentations on this particular composition. Their interpretation of “Ngau Nhien” is also an astonishing invigoration of Trinh’s work. The rhythm section is silky smooth; the tonal detail is exotic; and the snaring beatbox is off the hook. When the tempo doubles on the second half, the delivery is even more irresistible. The flow becomes instantaneous, and then the wordless vocals end the song with a stimulating novelty.

Besides Trinh’s music, 5 Dong Ke also recovers popular pieces of Nguyen Anh 9 and Tran Trinh. On the medley “Tu Tinh Ca”—which consisted of Nguyen Anh 9’s “Buon Oi Xin Chao Mi,” “Co Don,” “Loi Ve” and “Xin Nhu Lan May Trang”—the voices weave in and out of one another, complement each other’s thoughts, support each other’s lines, back up each other’s verses, share each other’s soul, and create a heart-to-heart musical conversation. Plus the changing in tempo, the whistling and the fingers snapping permeate tremendous energy and spontaneous vibes into the elivening performance. Even though their version of Tran Trinh’s timeless “Le Da” (lyrics by Ha Huyen Chi) is not the best I have heard, it is certainly a distinctive one.

With fruitful collaboration and tight integration between the members, the girls have created some of the most compelling and refreshing works in such a minimal style. Tu Tinh Ca is definitely impressive, but the length of the album is way too short (only four tracks, a medley and a bonus). An instant replay is almost required after the first spin. With a short list of tracks and without complicated orchestration, two years to complete the recordings seem like a long time, but the outcome is rewarding. It shows that the girls have invested a tremendous amount of time perfecting their vocal chords.

From a technical standpoint, Nghi Van is better than most of her peers (young pop singers). Her breath control is nearly flawless, and her bittersweet voice is distinctive enough to stand apart. In Nghi Van Vol.3, her cordial deliveries are compelling on songs with sweet and light-touched emotions, such as Bao Truong’s “Sao Doi Ngoi,” Viet Anh’s “Nhung Con Duong Vang Anh,” and Tran Tien’s “Em Van Nhu Ngay Xua.” On Tuong Van’s “Dem Lao Sao,” Nghi Van and Tuan Hung give the romantic ballad a delicious duet. Their strident quality works marvelously well together. Oh the flip side, she is not expressive enough to make a personal statement like the soulful Ngoc Khue or the sultry Khanh Linh. On Quoc Bao’s “Dem Hoa,” the bossa-nova piano solo is more riveting than her vocal performance. Even though there is room for improvement, the album is still outstanding. Maybe she just needs more drama (not the kind of Nguyen Hong Nhung’s drama though) to reach deeper into the music.

In contrast to Nghi Van, Hong Hanh articulates her sentiment quite well on her latest album, Canh Nau Trong Dem. She refreshes Nguyen Anh 9’s composition, “Mua Thu Canh Nau,” with a heartfelt delivery over the blues-inflected groove. She also revives Trong Kien’s “Got Chan Phieu Du” with a Latin-jazz rendition. With flows reminiscent of My Le, Hong Hanh gives romantic ballads, including Quoc An’s “Vang Trang Ky Niem,” Minh Khang’s “Danh Roi Tinh Yeu” and “Dong Song Khong Troi,” some sweet sensations. In fact, the album is perfect for the young and in-love (or out-of-love) listeners, despite a few banal tunes were included.

Quang Ly only covers materials that he can fully convey. As a result, almost any song he performed hits the mark. I like the way a Visualgui.com commenter describes Quang Ly: “He’s handsome, neat, nice, but a bit picky in choosing his repertoires.” From looking at his most current photo (found on the web), he sure is a fine gentleman at the age of fifty-four. I have never met him before, so I don’t know how nice or neat he is, but based on his Noi Nho Mua Dong, he is definitely meticulous in his song selections. With a list of compositions from highly respected songwriters such as Trinh Cong Son, Phu Quang, Doan Chuan and Tu Linh, Quang Ly revives these timeless tunes with his unmistakable sensitivity.

Quang Ly’s distinctiveness is in his relaxed and imaginative presentation. In the album-opener “Ha Noi Dem Tro Gio” (poem by Chu Lai and music by Trong Dai), he paints Ha Noi’s musical landscapes with his pure and passionate vocals. When he croons, “Ha Noi oi, ta nho khong quen / Ha Noi oi, trong trai tim ta” (“Oh Ha Noi, I always remember (and never forget) / Oh Ha Noi, you’ve always in my heart”), his unequivocal delivery shows he means every word he says. In addition, the gorgeous, smooth-toned saxophone solo gives the composition an aesthetic enhancement. Trinh Cong Son’s “Doan Khuc Thu Ha Noi” is another mesmerizing composition that is filled with Ha Noi’s luxurious details. Despite how many singers have tackled Trinh’s music, Quang Ly’s take on Trinh’s work is as fresh and invigorating as it was upon first relinquish. His calm and unadorned phrasing transports every bar with breathless ease. Elsewhere, he sings with tremendous sentiment, over the simple but soulful arrangement, to accentuate the lyrics in “Thuyen va Bien” (poem by Xuan Quynh and music by Phan Huynh Dieu), but the effortlessness is still under control. This is a technique that not too many singers can accomplish; yet Quang Ly mastered it.

Noi Nho Mua Dong is an album that makes every track counts. There is no wasted space on the record. From the title track (poem by Thoa Phuong and music by Phu Quang), Tran Tien’s “Toc Gio Thoi Bay,” Phan Huynh Dieu’s “Thu Tinh Cuoi Mua Thu,” Pham Trong Cau’s “Mua Thu Khong Tro Lai” to Doan Chuan and Tu Linh’s “Goi Gio Cho May Ngan Bay,” Quang Ly gives unforgettable performances one after another. However, he could have not done it without the hands of the skillful producers who laid down elegant and ingenious arrangements to match up with his voice. If singers were picky in choosing the right music to fit their voice, it is highly recommended that they do so to bring listeners a tight set – song for song – recordings.

When I am about to be brainwashed by meaningless lyrics from young and trendy songwriters, Hoang Viet Khanh comes to resuscitate. In Tinh Khuc Hoang Viet Khanh, which featured ten of his selected ballads, he has me paid attention to his every word because the music is filled with poetic aesthetics. In fact, his compositions could be read like poems without musical notes.

The first time I was struck by “Cho Xuan,” the image of a mother, waiting spring after spring for her son to return, never escapes my mind. Backed up by the soul-stirring orchestral arrangement from Luan Hoang (HVK’s younger brother who is responsible for the production of the album), Trinh Vinh Trinh gives one of her finest performances. Her bona fide delivery aerates the song. When she blazes the chorus, the smoke of the burning golden leafs is visible.

Beside TVT, Cam Van is no less expressive in her poignant rendition of “Goc Nay Cua Em.” The scabrous bite in her voice thickens the emotional narrative of a parentless child being lonely in the cold corner of an empty street. Accompanied by Thanh Huy’s strumming guitar, she sings with so much soul that we could almost hear the cries in her voice. She has placed herself in HVK’s genuine lyrical content, and performs as if she has lived the character’s life.

Although Ngoc Anh is younger than Cam Van, she has a stickier (not necessarily better) gravel quality in her voice. With a razor-sharp emotional expression, she gives a nostalgic presentation of “Dong Song va Tinh Toi,” a river that is filled with HVK’s childhood recollections. Her duet with Quang Minh on “Tim Toi” is a strange combination. Unfortunately, his sweet voice doesn’t blend right with her densed timbre.

Quang Ly and My Dung are the two vocalists I’ve heard of for the first time, yet their indelible contributions attract me. With his pitch-perfect vocals combined with his sinuous phrasings, Quang Ly gives “Bong Dang” and “Ngay Xua Yeu Dau” (HVK’s first composition written when he was eighteen) exotic tinctures. My Dung also delivers a ravishing recitation of “Nho Ve Da Lat.”

Unlike today’s popular hits, HVK’s music takes time to assimilate. Each song requires personal attention, and best to be experienced in an intimate atmosphere. What makes HVK a fine musician is that he is both a composer and lyricist. The combination gives singers a solid understanding of his music for their individual interpretations; therefore, they are capable of expressing his art to its fullest potential.

Like A Love Supreme, Charles Mingus Presents Charles Mingus documented four timeless masterpieces. Unlike John Coltrane’s spirituality, Mingus’s joints are filled with humanity. Charles Mingus Quartet (trumpeter Ted Curson, alto saxophonist/bass clarinetist Eric Dolphy, bassist/bandleader Charles Mingus, and drummer Dannie Richmond) is at its best. The musicians feel each other’s vibes, and play together like soldiers in combat, especially the level of energy they bring in “Folk Forms, No. 1,” which sets off the atmosphere for the next controversial piece. “Original Faubus Fables” is one of the most powerful and political jazz compositions in which Mingus and his musicians exercise their freedom of speech, “Boo! Nazi Fascist Supremacist / Boo! Ku Klux Klan (with your evil plan).” There is so much madness coming out of this tune, particularly the shouting from Mingus and Richmond. The screaming of Curson’s trumpet solo is just crazy. Once the band lets the chaos out of its system, it drops the mellow groove on “What Love.” Although the insanity is toned down, the spontaneous never left the building. The energetic mood picks up again on the forth track, which has a long title, “All the Things You Could Be By Now If Sigmund Freud’s Wife Was Your Mother.” CMPCM is amazing, and it shows how daring these musicians were willing to push their art to the limit. Imagine watching these cats in live action; it must be a rewarding experience.

When the great late 2pac Shakur dropped his classic Me Against the World, he was locked up for sexual harassment. A decade later, Kimberly Jones aka Lil’ Kim tells the world the Naked Truth about the shootout incident and the snitches before spending a year and a day behind bars. Despite the drama heading her way, Kim is more focused than ever. She pens tighter lyrics and spits slicker verses on her latest album.

With hit-making producers, including Scott Storch, T.I., and Fredwreck, laying down the beats, Kim has done a fabulous job of riding out her enemies. On “Spell Check,” she uses Biggie’s style spelling out the word “P-U-S-S-Y” to describe her former Junior M.A.F.I.A crew. She also pounds the homo-thug 50 Cent with, “The man, Five Oh, I don’t see him in the club / Cause he’s out in the CT with a dick in his butt.” On “Quiet,” with the Game on the hook, she applies Eminem’s aggressive and gimmick flow bitchslapping Foxy Brown, “… hoes wanna go to court til I pay them for their nails.”

When not dissing, Kim takes listeners back to her sex standards. Although the mind-freaking “Kitty Box” is raw, nasty, and highly erotic, she does not impressed me as much as her battling style. Plus, I really don’t give a damn if her vagina is “wetter than the whole Niagara” or how tight and right it is. Just give us the streetwise Bella, and leave the hardcore freaky stuffs out, especially “Gimme That.”

The juice of the record are those genuine joints such as “Slippin,” “All Good,” and” Last Day” where Queen Bee pours her heart out and rhymes like she has to get words out of her system. Naked Truth is Kim’s best work to date, in which her delivery has shown tremendous maturity, and she has proved it is true that “a cell’ll hold [her] body and never [her] mind.”

Last Friday, Cedar Walton Quartet‘s two-hour concert felt like ten minutes long. Pianist Walton mesmerized me with his effortless but electrifying style. I was watching his fingers moving up and down the keyboard the whole time. His bassist David Williams was also blazing, especially the way he smacked the bass up during his improvisations. The young saxophonist Vincent Herring was arresting. The musicians gave Vassar a fantastic time. For me, it was definitely too short.

Ly Hai, the hommie from the lovely little town called My Tho (my hometown), is a slow burner. He doesn’t make too much noise in the music scene, but somehow has managed to stay around for years while many young faces flash then pop like lightning bolts. He is well adapted to the current trends. His style reflects whatever the hottest music young listeners are into. His successes were Chinese-inflected ballads, and he translated most of the tunes. Now hip-hop is vibing up in Viet Nam, and so he is right there with her. The problem is that he can only create imitated hip-hop hits, which are far more artless than those Chinese melodies.

With his latest album, Thien Duong Co Em, he enervates not one but two popular ballads with hip-hop/trance/dance remix. In both Y Van’s “Thoi” and Duc Huy’s “Nguoi Tinh Tram Nam,” Ly Hai’s moderate flows are in one direction while the booty-shaking beats are in another. The synchronization is nowhere to be found. In addition, the nursery rhymes from guest MCs are irritating. Fellows, please respect the cultures (both Vietnamese and hip-hop). The title track, which is written by Duy Manh who is obsessed Chinese music, is sported by a cotton-candy tune harmonized with the computer-manipulated vocals. The end result is as flavorless as a piece of chewed bubblegum.

The whole record is a dud except for Xuan Hong’s “Doi Mat” (“Pair of Eyes”), which has straightforward but uplifting lyrics: “Me cho em doi mat sang ngoi / de nhin doi va de lam duyen / Doi cho em doi mat mau den / de thuong, de nho, de ghen, de hon” (“Mom gave me a pair of bright eyes / to look at life and to be charming / Life gave me a pair of black eyes / to love, to miss, to envy, to resent”). Ly Hai’s delivery is compelling, and the production is engaging. If he focuses his energy on more meaningful songs like “Doi Mat,” I wouldn’t be so condemning.

Ornette Coleman’s Shape of Jazz to Come is an avant-garde masterpiece of jazz. Two horns blow side-by-side creating call-and-response effects while complemented by the virtuous assistant of drums and bass. The sounds that come out of the talented quartet (Ornette Coleman, Don Cherry, Charlie Haden, and Billy Higgings) are pure, unique, and filled with human voices: “Lonely Lady” is exotic; “Eventually” is eclectic; “Peace” is elusive; “Focus on Sanity” is elaborate; “Congeniality” is exquisite; and “Chronology” is exhilarating.

Not sure why Dam Vinh Hung looks like a redneck on the cover of his latest album Mr. Dam, which obviously has nothing to do with country music. It just shows how off he is in the fashion world, but that’s another story. Although fashion and music go hand in hand, let’s just focus on his music world, and see if DVH is any good on his seventh’s studio solo.

Truth be told, I miss the good old DVH who struck me with his soulful performance of “Tinh Tho,” powerful presentation of “Goc Pho Reu Xanh,” and indelible rendition of “Tan Tro.” His singing used to be lighter but strong and captivating. Now he has developed an emphatic style. On “Ngoi Nghe Yeu Thuong Troi Xa,” his stressed phrasing gives Do Dinh Phuc’s music way more drama than it needs to be, and his heavy delivery comes across as if ton of bricks have pressed against his chest. Back in the early days, his breath control was perfect. But now, on the duet of Duc Huy’s “Nhu Da Dau Yeu,” both himself and Hong Ngoc sound like they are puffing a Cuban cigar together, and passing it to each other while recording. He breathes heavily not only on this particular track, but also on other performances.

DVH also loses his touch in revitalizing old tunes. Duc Huy’s “Nguoi Tinh Tram Nam” is another nightmare recovered, where his moaning and groaning add nothing but distraction to the work. Why does he love Duc Huy’s music so much? Duy Huy’s compositions – mellow, elegance, and simple – do not match his style at all, and he could not bring anything new to them. Furthermore, his version of Huynh Nhat Tan’s “Bac Tinh” is nowhere near Tuan Ngoc’s performance. As soon as Tuan Ngoc kicks off the first lines, “Voi vang lam chi trach nhau bac tinh,” he grabs listeners’ attention immediately, and continues to sway them with his flawless and effortless technique even after the song is over. On the other hand, DVH tries his hardest, but still could not take the song where Tuan Ngoc has taken it. Part of the flaw is also in the arrangement. Huynh Nhat Tan is behind the board on Tuan Ngoc’s version. Who could compose the music better than the composer himself? The result is hypnotizing. On DVH’s part, the producers (Bao Luu and Anh Khoa) could not bring any texture or color to the musical table. Not only for this track, but the over all production is also weak.

Is there anything good on the album? Of course, there has to be something. The best part is that he stops singing Marc Anthony’s songs. Remember “My Baby You” and “I Need to Know?” Thank gosh, right? Actually the decent track is Tran Ngoc’s “Tinh Em Xu Quang,” a sweet, rural ballad. It’s a Quang Linh’s style, but DVH sounds nice for a change. The new songs, including Thai Thinh’s “Dung Thuong Toi” and Hoai An’s “Noi Nho Tinh Toi,” are huge disappointments. They are just a bunch of syrupy ballads with bland productions and banal deliveries. Mr. Dam is done. It’s time to drop the mic and pick up the clipper.