Beside Ru Doi Di Nhe, Tu Su, Ru Mai Ngan Nam, and the most recent Nang Len, the 2001 released May Trang Bay Ve is another groundbreaking work from the Vietnamese diva Thanh Lam who is a formidable musician with a strong and profound voice. Although she has never been a gentle singer (at least in my mind), this record featured a handful of soothing tracks that requires Lam to melt stylistically. Nonetheless, those who love her powerful voice can reassured that they are not left out.

When Duong Thu contemporary folk melodies meet Quoc Trung’s new world grooves, and bridge the two together by Thanh Lam’s passionate vocals, the result is a barrier-tearing sound that can be found on the title track “May Trang Bay Ve,” as well as “Loi Toi Ru,” “Danh Thuc Tam Xuan,” and “Bay Vao Ngay Xanh.” Aside from Duong Thu’s compositions, Pho Duoc Phuong’s “Ho Tren Nui” is another rejuvenating folk and rock mashup. On these five songs, she has exerted an enchantment over her listeners by virtue of the expressive emotional range, volume, and intensity of her singing.

On this album, she covers eight of Duong Thu’s compositions. The lead-off track “Cam Tay Mua He” is a rare tune sported by Trung’s gorgeous mid-tempo arrangement in which she relaxes into the mellow rhythm, allowing it to calm her. The voice sampling (reminds me of Enigma) adds a sense of mysterious into the piece. Even though “Do Tinh” has a faster drumbeat, her vocals still stay cool and drive the arrangements. Beside her serene delivery, The Dan’s two-string fiddle (dan nhi) performance adds an exquisite aroma of traditional folk to the fresh vibe.

Accompanied by Tran Manh Tuan’s sensual soprano saxophone and backed up the choir of Nhac Vien Ha Noi, Lam’s authoritative, prosperous, and perfect placed timbre comes to live on “Hy Vong” (Hope), the inspiring lyric written by Duong Thu and mesmerizing music composed by Niels Lan Doky. The track is almost perfect except for the flaw in the production where the volume level drops noticeably right after the bridge. Also joining by Nhac Vien Ha Noi choir, “Goi Anh” is a delightful duet with the distinguished musician Trung Kien who voice is a phenomenon; together they provide listeners an opera experience.

Bao Tran’s “Hoa Co Mua Xua” is the cutest track on the album because of the kids from PTTN Viet Nam. They have done a spectacular job backing up Lam and she blends in with them smoothly. She sounds young next to them, and together they come off full of live on top of Trung’s fresh keyboard chord. Not only Trung deserves his praises for the wonderful sounds he produced on the album, his own composition “Tre Xanh Ru” is no less irresistible.

May Trang Bay Ve showcases a peerless vocal from Thanh Lam matches by Dung Thu’s writing skills and Quoc Trung’s arranging techniques at their best. Once again, Lam delivers another solid album and pushes the limit to elevate her stature. While many pop singers come and gone, Lam remains on top because of her timeless work.

In an interview with VN Style, songwriter Le Minh Son says, “Tung Duong has a masculine, passionate voice that sets him apart because many of his male peers sing like women. I can’t listen to them.” He makes a legitimate point. These days, Vietnamese male pop stars either sound feminine or sound like Tuan Ngoc. With disappointments, I have not been motivated to explore the recent crop until I encountered Tung Duong’s voice, an eccentric fusion of tenor and baritone. Although Duong is fresh on the scene, he comes across like a mature musician with a splendid technique and a fluid style all his own, and his debut Chay Tron, which featured seven songs written by Le Minh Son, proves it.

The title track “Chay Tron” is evidence of Duong’s jazz knowledge. He knows how to curl his voice around the smoky, elegant jazz phrases despite the sudden high tunes in Le Minh Son’s music. His wordless performance is also a phenomenon. His languorous voice and Trung Dong’s wistful trumpet weave in and out of one another, as if completing one another’s thoughts, sharing one another’s soul. Together they have created an exquisite harmony.

“Trang Khat” is a silky-smooth blues groove in which Duong’s powerful voice is complemented by Son’s intricate finger-picking guitar playing and rich composition style. Duong’s taste and understanding of jazz is proven through the weight he drops on each note and each rest over a hypnotic riff. Alongside Son’s guitar, Tran Manh Hung’s piano performance is a sensation. His fingers, which fall smoothly on the keys, create an irresistible tune.

Chay Tron, which means escape, is a perfect title because the album comes through with various shapes and sounds to provide listeners with pure escapisms. “Trang Khuyet” offers an experience that is reflectively modern and at the same time old-fashioned by the concoction of jazz and folk. On “Lua Mat Em,” the mid-tempo groove along with Duong’s skillful rendition produces an exceptional synthesis of pop and jazz. The album-closer “Oi Que Toi” breaks free from the folk traditional and takes listeners into an atmospheric ballad; however, the contemporary folk style from Thanh Lam’s version seems to work better.

Tung Duong shows tremendous potential as a young musician. He harnesses his intensity and virtuosity to create a stunning, rich in detail, and cohesive first album. He has chosen the right music for his voice. If there were one thing he needs to improve from this album, it would be his heavy breathing.

Shortly after ruling out her competitors in Sao Mai-Diem Hen (Morning Star – Rendezvous), Pham Ngoc Khue drops her debut Ben Bo Ao Nha Minh (By Our Pond), a collaboration with her musical mentor Le Minh Son who is a renowned songwriter in Viet Nam. Unlike many new faces who “take the shortcut to fame by performing pop ballads,” as Khue said during her interview with Viet Nam News, she has established herself as an exciting new voice among her peers by performing contemporary folk songs with her strange but striking style. Her rare vocals, along with her bizarre delivery, produce some of the weirdest tunes I have ever heard since Ha Tran’s Nhat Thuc (Solar Eclipse).

The first time I listen to Ngoc Khue’s performance of “Chuon Chuon Ot” (Red Dragonfly) on Sao Mai Diem Hen, she sounds a like twelve years-old girl with an incredibly annoying voice wheezing her way through the song. How the heck did she win Sao Mai-Diem Hen? After listening to the whole album, I finally figured it out. Her voice is a marvel: smooth, sweet, breathy, and smoky at once, and she flips her flows constantly. On “Gio Mua Ve” (The Windy Season Returns), Khue pours her voice into the notes until they overflow. Her northern accent near the end is the most eccentric reading I have heard, although I can hardly make out what she says. “Cap Ba La” is a contemporary folk song that I can snap my fingers and tap my feet to. Khue’s bashful and playful delivery, especially the way she flirts “la lam, ngai lam” (too strange, too shy), is irresistible.

Both the title track “Ben Bo Ao Nha Minh” (By Our Pond) and the remix version of Bac Ninh’s “Ngoi Tua Man Thien” (Sit By the Boat) are invigorating because Khue relaxes into Le Minh Son’s gorgeous arrangements. Unfortunately, her lack of breath control keeps these tracks from being perfect. “Nguoi O, Nguoi Ve” (One Stays, One Returns) is a good example for observing the difference between a new (Ngoc Khue) and an experienced (Thanh Lam) singer. While Lam is breathless, Khue is gasping for air. Khue is an excellent musician with a very unique style, but Lam is untouchable. For instance, Khue’s performance of “Da Trong Chong” (Turned to Stone) is wicked, but Lam’s powerful interpretation is murderous. I like both versions, but if I have to vote for one. I must go with Lam. She has found her way into the composition.

Despite her inexperienced vocal skills and being overshadowed by Thanh Lam, Ngoc Khue has crafted an exquisite first album. She has made the right decision by not choosing popular songs to get her name out. It might be quickest way to fame, but also the fastest way to be forgotten in the game. Khue seduces her fans by using the smartest strategy: allowing the music to grow on listeners instead of letting music wear them out.

50 Cent has been acting crazy lately, and he gets worse when his sophomore album, The Massacre, is about to drop. He is not only beefing with other rappers, but also with his own man, the Game, as well. Because of the pressures he is facing with, his paranoia is explainable. If I were in his position, I would feel the same. Two years ago, he was on top of the game. His debut Get Rich or Die Tryin’ sold eleven million copies. When an artist sells that much, the expectation is much higher. Can 50 live up to it?

The good news is The Massacre has plenty of hot beats for 50 to ride on. From the delightful jazz groove (“In My Hood”) to the clubbing Indian-inflected (“Just a Lil Bit”), he spins on these beats as smooth as the chrome rims on his Benz. Like his mentor Eminem, he sings almost all the hooks (twenty out of twenty-two tracks). Unlike Em, however, he sounds more matured and professional. His thick and slightly raucous voice helps tremendously. His delivery is both effortless and intricacy. His flow is as passionate as the song requires, and his style is switching on nearly every track. The collaboration with Em on “Gatman and Robbin'” is a delicious duo. They fashioned an artfully constructed style that has not been heard before.

Although the beat, flow, and delivery are exceptional, the missing piece of the puzzle is the lyrical content, which is as dried as the desert. When he is not foul mouthing on Nas, Fat Joe, Shyne, and Jadakiss (“Piggy Bank”), he either swaggers on his gangsta life (“I am suppose to Die Tonight”) or disrespects women (“Get in My Car”). After spitting on girls, he makes a three-point-turn and rhymes his sweet thugging heart out on “A Baltimore Love Thing,” where he spits “Girl, I’m missing you, come and see me soon / Tie your arm up, put that lighter under that spoon / Now put that needle to your arm princess, stick it in.” Unfortunately, only a few good lines like that come through on the album. In addition, he recycles same words over and over again. How many times does he say the word “Teflon” and “hollow tips?”

50 Cent probably did not want to, but he set standards so high that he himself can’t reach, and he knows it. Even though he hides it by sounding like not breaking a sweat on the tracks, his forceful laughter shows it all. The Massacre may not be able to break through eleven million, but the clubbing beats and the playful performance will guarantee the platinum numbers. The weight is heavy, but at least he takes it off his shoulders.

After releasing several ridiculous DVD, Hoa Bien productions are finally catching on. Their latest music and comedy video Yeu Nguoi Say (Love the Drunker) is viewable with the mix of singers in Viet Nam and US. Despite the foolish topic (liquor) and the silly host (I am tired of watching Chi Tai), the video provides some entertaining contents.

The song that jumps out at me is Jimmy J.C Nguyen’s “Niem Dau Chom Ha.” He is one rare Vietnamese artist who can write and sing equally well. This song showcases his new style, which is refreshing, reviving, and very “Hue.” His flow is exceptional and his lyric is beautiful. I am sure Quang Linh will cop this song in the near future.

Ngo Thanh Van surprises me with her vocal improvements compare to a year ago when her second album Bi An Van Trang dropped. She’s hot and she has the groove, but her style is uneven on the video. She looks cute in some outfits but discord in others. Her dancers are even worse. Their styles are in between puck-rock and hip-hop, but their moves are not so bad. Together they rocked the video.

Glad to see Thuy Duong’s back. Her voice is incredible on “Tinh Lo” even though her pronunciation of the “th” (thoi) and “dd” (doi) is a bit strange. Thanh Truc pulls off Trinh Cong Son’s “Nhu Canh Vat Bay” adequately. She would sound much better if she could control her breath. Thu Phuong’s performance on “Chen Dang” is pleasurable although Dam Vinh Hung’s version is more expressive.

“Ve Day Thoi Em Hoi” is lyrically inspiring but the video does not articulate the song to its fullest. Tinh production would have captured the song much better. Dam Vinh Hung’s sentiment is honestly delivered. In contrast, his performance with Hong Ngoc on “Lien Khuc Duong Xa Uoc Mua” isn’t quite captivating. Hong Ngoc looks like a Vietnamese version of Da Brat back in the “Funkdafied” days with her braided hair, loose shirt, and baggy jeans.

Rebecca Quynh Giao and Quynh Anh are blazing in the sexy Japanese customs that show off their cleavages on “Say.” Especially Rebecca, she is irresistible. Keep on shaking them thangs, ma!

When the production toned Nguyen Huy down to his age, he is a cute and talented kid. He’s no longer a little pimp, but a “Tieu Hoang Phi Hung” (a little Kung Fu fighter). Although the flying on water and the fighting scenes are filmed with special effects, he has the skill and the charisma to pull them off. Not only that, he can also acts. His performance with Hoai Linh and Thuy Muoi on the skit “Yeu Nguoi Say” is plausible.

Hoa Bien productions have learned from their mistakes and taken away many controversial issues. Luckily, they haven’t taken away the models. I don’t care what people say, but beautiful faces do add something nice to the video. I also must give Hoa Bien props for filming both places (Viet Nam and US). The expenses must be incredibly high. Keep up the good work.

On the desirable Da Khuc Nguyen Dinh Phung, Tuan Ngoc and Thai Hien calm our minds with their vocals and Duy Cuong sooths our souls with his musical arrangements even though the nocturne music takes us a while to get into. Unfortunately, their latest efforts on Ao Mong (Romantic Ballads of Nguyen Dinh Phung) are not too successful. The singings are beyond relax and the arrangements are above quiet. I gave the album plenty of time (twice as much as the previous one) to grow on me, but nothing happens. I still am unable to feel the vibe.

On the first two tracks (“Nhu Tinh Mai Tinh Khoi” and “Mai Em Ve Da Lat”), Tuan Ngoc holds on to the notes too long. He stresses the words too much to match up with the classical chords. The result is unanimated and tedious. The CD-closer “Thien Than Toc Trang Canh Mau Xanh” picks up the tempo a tiny bit with the waltz tune. He does not sound as stretchy, but the music still does not come to life.

Thai Hien is equally tiresome. Her clear but slow and slightly breathy delivery on “Dan Voi Gio Mua” and “Coi Troi Dat La” is more depressing than enchanting. Duy Cuong’s arrangements do not help much. The beats are either too subtle or are not presence at all. For instance, on “Tram Nhanh Song Chia,” I wish he turned up the drums just a notch.

The poems featured on Ao Mong are beautiful, but the drawback is the way Nguyen Dinh Phung transports them into music. The melodies are too passive and subdued. Listeners who are acquainted with classical music might find the album enjoyable. As for me, I am more of a jazz and hip-hop head.

Never judge an album by its cover. As a visual guy, I find that principle is hard to follow. I believe that first impression is better than no impressions at all. An album cover should at least give the audience a sense of the work before they make the purchase. The design of Y Biec (Nguyen Dinh Phung’s music) looks like someone who just learned new Photoshop effects and puts his or her tricks to work. The layout is incoherent, the use of types is ineffective, and let’s not going into the background and bevel effects. The visual says nothing about the work. Could it be that the designer doesn’t immerse into the music?

Y Biec is not an easy listening album. Nguyen Dinh Phung music doesn’t seize listeners immediately, but the strength lies in a study in subdued, soothing colors, gorgeous harmonies, and cascades of pure melody. Like a slow-cooking process, the compositions marinate gradually into the listeners’ hearts. Once they are fully absorbed, the experience is rejuvenating.

The album featured three distinguished vocalists and a sonic mastermind. Tuan Ngoc, Thai Hien, and Vu Khanh are at their best on the performances (each covers three tracks), and Duy Cuong is as amazing as always with his soft and sensuous arrangements. Despite what the poor CD cover design might suggest, together they have created a rich level of chamber-music. The best part is the varieties each singer brings to the work. While Tuan Ngoc delivers his calmness qualities on “Sau Y Biec,” Thai Hien flows her illusionary aesthetics on “Hanh Ngo,” and Vu Khanh holds the dynamic steady on “Thanh Pho Thien Than.”

As a master of fine-tuning producer, Duy Cuong caters his sounds to blend in with the vocalist styles. For the cool-under-pressure Tuan Ngoc, Duy Cuong allows tiny fluctuations in his instruments to carry the emotional weight, noticeably on “Mua Dong Hong Van No.” For the pitch-perfect Thai Hien, he wants listeners to hear the particulars, even when the chord weaves in and out of the singing on “Vo Dinh.” The technique is so subtle that the instrumental and the vocals have become an integral, indivisible part of the composition. For the forceful Vu Khanh, he lets the voice to be the essence. “Nhung Loi Nghin Trung” is a vocal driven track, but the beat changes in the background are interesting from slow ballad to jazz.

With Nguyen Dinh Phung’s poetic lyrics, Duy Cuong’s brilliant sounds, and vocalists’ meticulous deliveries, Y Biec is an album I reach for over and over, as if it were a pack of cigarettes, especially when insomnia strikes. Sleep is not something I do well these days, and it seems to get worse as I am approaching the three-zero territory; therefore, slow, relax, and unwind music is my best companion.

Dinh Ngoc is Asia Entertainment’s latest protégé. Unlike most of Asia’s shining stars such as Lam Nhat Tien, Thanh Truc, and Cardin, he is added to the roster to attract more matured listeners. Based on his songs selection on Tinh Khuc Mua Dong, an album released under his label (Dinh Ngoc Productions) and produced by Duy Cuong, he seems to have a clear direction of where he wants to go. The path he has chosen is a smart one because he faces less competition, but the few challengers he’s battling are hard to conquer.

Right off the bat, he is up against Khanh Ha on Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Mot Doi Quen Lang.” The down side is that Duy Cuong recycles the arrangements on both performances. Same beat different vocal makes the comparison even more obvious. Dinh Ngoc’s version is good, but Khanh Ha experienced vocal manipulation leaves him out in the cold.

It gets worse when he covers Trinh Cong Son’s “Nho Mua Thu Ha Noi,” which is one of Tuan Ngoc’s signature pieces. Again, similar arrangement different voice, and Tuan Ngoc’s intricate phrasing and his detail to each word shred Dinh Ngoc’s performance into confetti.

Beside his charming voice, he does nothing new to the aged romantic ballads. He hardly pushes the arrangements, and his steady delivery doesn’t help either. The only time he sounds dynamic is on Pham Trong’s “Mua Thu Khong Tro Lai.” Fortunately, he is backed up by one of the deftest producers in the game. Duy Cuong helps drive Dinh Ngoc’s performance with a pounding beat on Pham Duy’s “Nghin Nam Van Chua Quen.”

Dinh Ngoc has not given enough reasons for listeners to root for him. He needs more drama and passion in his delivery if he wants to go far. Taking the road that is less traveled does not mean he is on a smooth expedition. He still has a long and bumpy ride ahead of him.

“Ready to Die, Reasonable Doubt, and Doggystyle in one.” Dream on, Game. The Documentary is solid, but far away from being a classic. With a portfolio of today’s finest hip-hop producers including Dr. Dre, Kanye West, Just Blaze, and Timbaland behind the tracks, the production is impressive, but Game’s lyrical skills aren’t deep enough to reach his legends.

Following Tupac Shakur’s footsteps, Game skips the flamboyant flow and cuts straight to the bone. Unfortunately, he only scratches the surface, whereas Pac went all the way to the heart, but that doesn’t mean he cannot deliver. He sounds honest and sincere on “Start From Scratch,” and convincing when he spits, “Homie if I could make ’94 today / I tell Eazy and Dre to bring back NWA.”

Though Game carries the thug’s image just like the rest of his G-Unit crew, he does not sound as cocky as 50 Cent, as misogynistic as Cam’ron, or as flashy as Jay-Z. Instead of rapping about ice, rims, and hoes over and over again, he speaks out his mind on the title track “The Document.” The way his chorus plays off the classics album is clever – “I’m Ready to Die without a Reasonable Doubt / smoke Chronic and hit Doggystyle before I go out / until they sign my Death Certificate / All Eyez On Me / I’m still at it, Illmatic / and that’s The Documentary.”

On the flip side, the album sounds more frivolous than serious, especially with 50 featured on “How We Do” and “Hate It or Love It.” The style switching sounds smooth between the two on “How We Do” and Dre makes the club beat pumping. While Kanye drops a blazing beat on “Dreams,” Eminem flops on “We Ain’t.” The track sounds like the sequel 50’s “Patiently Waiting,” but out of tune. Em kills himself and the Game on his own beat – no pun intended.

Although The Documentary is not a magnum opus, the album has some sparks. Game offers a satisfactory debut with potential for improvements. His references throughout his lyrics prove that he has indeed studied the classics. Keep on learning, keep on dreaming of making a masterpiece , but stop dreaming of “fucking the R&B bitch.”

I must thank Duy Cuong for the luminous Tro Ve Mai Nha Xua (Back to Sorriento) album. I am not thanking him for his remarkable musical talent, but for introducing me to the sweet, soulful, and sensuous voice of Thien Phuong. Although her name is unfamiliar to me, I picked up the record anyway because the credit reads, “Produced, arranged, and mixed by Duy Cuong.” Any recording with his name on it, I can reassure that the musical arrangements are top-notch. The only questioning is the vocalist. Can she drive the arrangements?

As soon as Thien Phuong kicks off the first few bars on Trinh Cong Son’s “Chi Con Ta Trong Doi,” my worries are gone. She not only can sing well, but also is matured in handling Trinh’s materials. She is in control of her phrasing, breathing, and delivering. Through her unrestrained and unforced voice, she connects to Trinh’s music. Her elegant interpretation blows soft air into his “Loi Thien Thu Goi” and “Hay Yeu Nhau Di.”

Normally, I don’t pay attention to translated songs, but Pham Duy is a master of music translation, and he does it with passion and precision. “Chu Nhat Buon” is his translation of Seress Rejso’s “Sombre Dimanche.” The rumor is that someone had committed suicide after listening to this song. I am not sure if that is true, but I do feel tremendous despondency when hearing Thien Phuong performs. Likewise, the title track “Tro Ve Mai Nha Xua,” also translated by Pham Duy from E. Curtiss’s “Back to Sorriento,” provides listeners a sentimental experience through the soothing classical chord and mellow groove. The lyrics speak to those who were tired of the war, and dreamed of returning to their normal life. Thien Phuong makes sure to get the message across by offering attention to each note and each rest.

Thien Phuong is consistent throughout the album. Her singing on Le Uyen Phuong’s “Bai Ca Hanh Ngo” is as natural as living, and she flows effortlessly inside Duy Cuong’s gorgeous beats. On Vu Thanh An’s “Bai Khong Ten So 3,” her timbre is fresh with an ethereal, persuading quality that stands out by itself. She breathes life into Hoang Quoc Bao’s “Xuan Thanh Danh Giac Mong Thuong,” soaks her soul into Nguyen Van Dong’s “Nho Mot Chieu Xuan,” and pours her heart out on Pham Manh Cuong’s “Nuoc Mat Tren Phim Dan,”

Tro Ve Mai Nha Xua is no doubt a masterpiece. The album showcases the dynamic of true vocal and musical talent. This is a timeless and peerless record that could be played from start to finish without touching the skip button, and the looping function may be turned on for savory experiences again and again.