“Come gather ’round friends / And I’ll tell you a tale,” Dylan starts off “North Country Blues” as if he’s two inches away from you with a guitar on his hands. The raw intimacy, in which Dylan seemed to be more interested in telling stories than singing, captured in this album brings out the bleakness images in disturbing lyricism including “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll,” “Ballad of Hollis Brown,” “With God on Our Side” and “Only a Pawn in Their Game.” Fifty years after its release, The Times They Are A-Changin’ remains one of the most provocative musical statements on social injustice, class and race.

For the 1963 release of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, which goes down in history as a “global phenomenon,” Dylan channels his personal perspective on love, war and racism through an acoustic guitar and a harmonica. In “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” Dylan stripped the accompaniment down to just simple ostinato and focused on his startling lyricism: “I met a white man who walked a black dog / I met a young woman whose body was burning.”

As far back as I can remember, the first time I listen to a Bob Dylan record was in my freshman year in college. One of my roommates had a sizable collection of Dylan’s CDs. I borrowed one, can’t recall which album, for a spin and was unimpressed with his voice. At the time I was not into lyricism and I was not a rock fan. The only rock music I have listened to all these years is Jimi Hendrix’s.

Last week I read the biography of Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson and learned that Jobs was not only a big fan of Dylan, but he was also using Dylan’s music in his works and quoting Dylan’s lyrics in his presentations. Jobs piqued my interest in Dylan once again. As I searched through my music collection, the only full album I have of Dylan is Highway 61 Revisited. Tim Brown, a former colleague at Vassar College, gave me the album years ago. We shared similar taste in jazz, blues and hip-hop, but I was not into rock.

Upon revisiting Highway 61 in the past couple of days, I still not am impressed with Dylan’s voice—though it is growing on me. The lack of interest in his singing forces me to pay attention to his lyrics. Right off the opening, “Like a Rolling Stone,” Dylan demonstrates his master of storytelling through four concise verses of from-riches-to-rags tales. The chorus of “Tombstone Blues” is already stuck in my head:

Mama’s in the factory
She ain’t got no shoes
Daddy’s in the alley
He’s lookin’ for the fuse
I’m in the streets
With the tombstone blues

Yet the track that epitomizes Dylan’s genius of lyricism is “Desolation Row.” Clocking in over eleven minutes without a chorus, Dylan drops ten verses filled poetic allusion, powerful imagery and countercultural references. By stripping the instrumentation down to just picking acoustic guitar, Dylan gave the song a raw, authentic feel and free of distraction from the lyrics. I am now a fan of Dylan and about to embark on a journey to rediscover his music. I now have two favorite rock musicians: Hendrix and Dylan.

Lê Khôi’s debut Cho Một Lần Quên is a predictable but pleasant ballad record. He covers standards from Diệu Hương, Phú Quang and Trường Sa. His charming baritone jelled the most with Diệu Hương’s simple, melodic compositions. He delivers “Để Mặc Tôi Yêu Em” with honesty and empathy.

His most successful take on Phú Quang’s is “Có Một Vài Điều Anh Muốn Nói Với Em.” Trường Sa’s compositions are too mature for him. His take on “Một Mai Em Đi” and “Xin Còn Gọi Tên Nhau” shows that he lacks the experience to truly express the writer’s emotional lyricism.

One of the major setbacks of the album is the musical productions. The pre-arrangements were stale and lacking of dynamics. While Lê Khôi’s voice has potential, he needs to step further than being lumped into Quang Dũng’s group.

Even though Dan Auerbach’s voice is too thin and girly for my ears, I really enjoy the productions on The Black Keys’ latest release Turn Blue. Brian “Danger Mouse” Burton plays a key role in those sounds. The Bo Diddley beat, forceful riffs and feedback on “It’s Up to You Now” are so damn addictive. The “Fever” groove is also captivating. Even the slow-burning album starter, “Weight of Love,” is sensation. Listening to this album makes me wish Burton and Norah Jones reunite for another collaborative project.

Shakira. Shakira. What else can I say? Whether it’s her exotic physicality, stunning choreography or musical eccentricity, everyone wants a piece of Shakira. In her tenth release, she gives back to everyone a little something.

For the club heads, “Dare (La La La)” is an instant party starter. I played the track this morning and my two-year-old Dan is already hooked on it. We put it on repeat all the way to daycare and Dao (my five-year-old) asked me, “Why does he say Lego?.” I explained, “I think he said leggo.” According to Urban Dictionary, leggo is “The most unintelligent way to say ‘Let’s Go.’”

For the country heads, she pulls off the hillbilly vibe in “Medicine” with the help from Blake Shelton. Their vocals blended strangely well together. She has something for the rockers (“Spotlight”), ska shakers (“Nunca Me Acuerdo de Olvidarte”) and ballad lovers (“That Way”) as well. The album is surely all over the place, but Shakira could weave them together with her uniqueness.

What is Shakira’s uniqueness that make her an international pop phenomenon with a musical career that is still going strong for 25 years? Again, everyone has something different for Shakira. Beside her visual, something about her singing that is bizarre yet irresistible. In “Empire” for example, the way she moans at the end of each bar seduces me. Who can resist the temptation with weird lyrics like, “Shake off all of your sins and give them to me”? Better yet, the chorus that goes, “And the stars make love to the universe / You’re my wildfire every single night,” before she screams from the pussy, “And you touch me… And I’m like… and I’m like… and I’m like… Ooh… ooh…” Now that’s some fucking orgastic pleasure.

The box set of Miles at the Fillmore captured the four live sessions of Miles Davis and his all-star band played at the New York venue in June 1970 in thier entirety. Even though same tunes were played in different sets, listening to them back to back reveals how the band stretched out the pieces from night after night. Miles’s solos were powerful and focused. In contrast, Keith Jarrett and Chick Corea pushed their instruments beyond their limit to create organic, chaotic soundscapes. While Dave Holland anchored down the pulse, Jack DeJohnette and Airto Moreira went buck wild with the rhythms. Steve Grossman was also at the top of his game on the sax. From the opening, charging “Directions” to the impressionistic improvising “Bitches Brew” to the hypnotizing “It’s About That Time,” Miles and his men made history on the spot.

Như Ý’s sixth release kicks off with an alluring rendition of “Mưa Trên Biển Vắng.” Sadly, the rest of the album featured catchy but forgettable pop songs. It’s a damn shame to hear such a seducing voice is being wasted. Then again, she only spent two months putting seven tracks together.

Taming the Dragon starts off with pianist Brad Mehldau telling his trippy dream over an atmospheric, organic backdrop. Then the groovy beat from drummer Mark Guiliana interrupts Mehldau’s talk to set off the vibe for the entire album. Mehldau steps out of his jazz tradition to join Guiliana for an experimental journey filled with imaginative (electric and acoustic) keyboard licks backing up by big, pulsating drum’n’bass kicks. Mehliana is, without a doubt, a fruitful and creative collaboration.

Vijay Iyer is unstoppable. Mutations, his latest release, is a compositional exploration. The 10-part suite, a marvelous interaction between string chamber and improvisation, is a proof that Iyer is versatile in both musical landscapes or he sees no distinction between the two. He just makes music that is forward-thinking and beyond category.