Ahmad Jamal has been playing the piano for 80 years. At 83, he still swings hard on his new record Saturday Morning with bassist Reginald Veal and drummer Herlin Riley. Whether improvising over Afro-Caribbean rhythms on “Back To The Future” and “One (Ahad)” or weaving together Duke Ellington’s ballads on “I Got It Bad and That Ain’t Good,” he shows no sign of slowing down. With his virtuosic playing on “Edith’s Cake” and “I’m in the Mood for Love,” Jamal proves that his chops and still amazing and that his age ain’t nothing but a number.

If you’re looking for some soothing instrumental Vietnamese ballads to get you into the holiday spirit, check out Quang Thắng’s Tình Yêu Cuối Đường. He plays some melodic saxophone rendition of familiar tunes including “Bao Giờ Biết Tương Tư” (Phạm Duy), “Anh Còn Nợ Em” (Anh Bằng) and “Trái Tim Bên Lề” (Phạm Khải Tuấn).

If you’re looking for something more innovative, however, this record isn’t it. The main issue here is that Quang Thắng plays every note as perfect as it was written. Even for the jazz rendition of “Phút Cuối,” he never breaks out of Lam Phương’s melodic lines. It’s a missed opportunity not to improvise on such a popular tune. The perfect example would be Coleman Hawkin’s rendition of “Body and Soul.” He didn’t even reinstate the melody because most people knew the ballad.

Another major drawback is the lacking of spontaneity since Quang Thắng played his saxes over pre-arrangements rather than with a live band. You can’t just blow your horn over a recorded rhythm section unless you’re Miles Davis. Even Miles needed talented producers like Marcus Miller to provide him with top-notch arrangements for Tutu.

While “Thuở Ấy Có Em” (Huỳnh Anh) has a wonderful bluesy feel to it, Quang Thắng plays the melody note for note. When I hear this tune, Miles’ advice comes to mind: “Don’t play what’s there; play what’s not there.” Then again, maybe Quang Thắng’s intention is just to make a soothing record.

The new Tình Vẫn Thiết Tha indicates the emancipation of Y Phương. She is free from drowning her soul in Asia’s mechanical, recycled productions. Hearing her sensual voice covering non-Vietnamese standards without Asia arrangements is quite refreshing.

Y Phương is also experimenting with something new in term of getting the record out. Tình Vẫn Thiết Tha is released through digital channels like Amazon and iTunes rather than the traditional distribution, which is quite impressive, but the only issue is that she didn’t put too much effort into the album design. No credits are listed even though the producer had done an outstanding job of keeping the arrangements simple and tasteful, particularly on the bossa-nova flavors like “Bài Ngợi Ca Tình Yêu,” “Ngàn Đời Chờ Mong” and “Yêu Nhau Đi.” Her rendition of “Bài Ngợi Ca Tình Yêu” is the only Vietnamese version that is pretty damn closed to Ngọc Lan’s thanks to the swaying rhythm.

In many ways, this album could also be a tribute to the late great Ngọc Lan. From “Chuyện Tình Yêu,” “Chờ Phone Của Anh,” Yêu Nhau Đi,” “Người Yêu Đã Ra Đi” to “Người Yêu Ơi Giã Từ” are all classics that Ngọc Lan had built her fame on. Y Phương obviously got her inspiration from Ngọc Lan, but she also held her own. In Asia, Y Phương has been known to be a belter, but she has learned to refrain and to lay back. In “Ngàn Đời Chờ Mong” she never pushes beyond her range and only glides up just a tiny bit to give the lyrics a nice touch.

Y Phương caught my ears when she opened Asia 53: Bốn Mùa with Nguyên Khang back in 2007. I knew she has potential, but then she kept on disappointed us with release after release from Asia. It’s about damn time she makes her own record.

Bun B is back in full force. Trill OG: The Epilogue offers 12 concise tracks filled with a handful of compelling productions, some excellent guest spots and a whole lot of aggressiveness from the king of the trill himself. Even when his wordplay is hilarious, “Opinions is like assholes and I don’t like assholes / So stick your opinion in your ass ho,” he doesn’t seem to be amused. Without a doubt, Bun takes his craft very serious and he has issues with “pussy niggas” through the exceptional cuts including “No Competition,” “Gladiator” and “Stop Playin’.” Rap is a competitive sport and he has every reason to go after the studio gangsta: “You born a sucker, die a sucker, yea you get the picture.” Going after women, however, is unnecessary and the filthy, misogynistic rhymes that aren’t even quotable here just make him sound like an asshole that he hates. Other than that, Trill OG is an impressive record.

Around this time of the year, one of my favorite things to do is kicking back to Christmas music. Vince Guaraldi Trio’s A Charlie Brown Christmas is the one that I return again and again each Christmas season. That “Linus and Lucy” joint gets me every time. In addition, “Christmas is Coming” and “O Tannenbaum” bring out the holiday spirit in me. This year, the album gets a remastered release, which I am more than excited to revisit this classic. Gosh, I love the trio’s delightful swing. I can listen to this album all the way to 2014, but there are additional Christmas releases this year as well.

A Mary Christmas from Mary J. Blige brings out the soulful vibe from the hip-hop-r-&-b queen, especially “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” and “Mary, Did You Know?” The standout track has to be “Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Who would have imagine that MJB could swing? Not only she could swing, but she could also scat. The track ends with MJB saying, “Man, that was fun.” There is no doubt she was having a blast recording this tune.

While MJB’s take on “My Favorite Things” is tasteful and laid-back, Kelly Clarkson’s swings it up in her new Christmas release titled Wrapped In Red. Clarkson has a few flavors on her Christmas covers and a few exceptional include country blues “Blue Christmas,” jazzy “Baby It’s Cold Outside” (a duet with Ronnie Dunn) and soothing “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.”

Whereas Mary J. Blige’s and Kelly Clarkson’s album are straightforward and jolly, Nick Lowe brings wit and subtlety to his Quality Street: A Seasonal Selection for All the Family. “Christmas at the Airport” brings out the sentiment of traveling during the holidays. The track that has been on repeat for five or six times straight while on the road is “The North Pole Express.” Our two-year-old Dan has been watching The Polar Express the time he wakes up until the night he goes to sleep. Both Dao and Dan love “The North Pole Express.” Every time Dan hears this song, the first thing that comes out of his mouth would be, “All aboard.”

It’s not a coincident that “Silent Night” appears on all three albums. Lowe’s rock, up-tempo rendition is not doing the tune the justice. MJB’s version has the Spanish verse with Marc Anthony and it doesn’t sound quite right either. As much as I appreciate the new flavors on Lowe’s and MJB’s, I still prefer the classic approach from Kelly Clarkson. She just delivers the tune with her big voice backing up by a choir. That alone does the trick.

As for the past Christmas records, I still enjoy the eccentricity of Jingle All The Way from Bela Fleck and The Flecktones, the joyfulness of Christmas with the Puppini Sisters, the tasteful Christmas Songs from Diana Krall, the soothing Jazz Piano Christmas from Beegie Adair Trio and multicultural mixtures of Joy to The World from Pink Martini. Damn, that’s a lot of Christmas records. The good thing is that I have a whole month to enjoy them.

Trần Thái Hoà is apparently very boring. Like many Vietnamese singers, particularly the oversea ones, Trần Thái Hoà has locked himself into a one-dimensional style. He hardly pushes his delivery out of his comfort range, which is quite limit.

What makes his latest release, Quên Đi Tình Yêu Cũ, incredibly dull is that he had chosen a handful of bland ballad including the title track by Trịnh Nam Sơn, “Mùa Đông Sắp Đến” by Đức Huy and “Tình Đã Vụt Bay” by Vũ Tuấn Đức. On top of his song choices, his productions aren’t so exciting either. Even the bluesy vibe on “Một Lần Nào Cho Tôi Gặp Lại Em” (Vũ Thành An) and the Latin flavor on “Tình Đã Vụt Bay” are just yawn-worthy.

The album closer, “Buồn Ơi, Chào Mi” (Nguyễn Ánh 9), is the only track that isn’t so monotonous. Then again, Quên Đi Tình Yêu Cũ is Trần Thái Hoà’s tenth solo release of this same old shit. He must be doing something right.

Everyone turns “sến” these days. No crime in that. We all need a bit of over-sentimentalism once in a while. Thiên Kim’s latest release, Xa Vắng, is not a bad record of “sến.” Her simple delivery turns out to be quite effective. She goes for the core emotion rather than the superficial drama.

“Chiều Tây Đô” is a great example. She covers the song in a straightforward manner. No pitch correction nor tonal embellishment was needed. In fact, her voice even cracked at several spots as if she came down with a cold and that is the raw beauty of her delivery. Unfortunately the production is counterintuitive to her voice. The programmed strings and steady percussion work against rather complemented her vocals. The outcome would have been much more compelling if only the picking guitar accompanied her voice. We don’t need to count the beat to figure out it’s a fucking bolero rhythm.

Again, the vocal delivery on both “Phút Cuối” and “Duyên Kiếp” is superb, but the arrangements are so typical of Asia productions. “Tình Lỡ” would have been a better solo piece. Quốc Khanh just doesn’t have the chops for “sến.” The “Lâu Đài Tình Ái” duet is also a mismatch. It feels such a letdown after “Chiều Tây Đô.”

Though her version of “Hận Đồ Bàn” is quite good, it doesn’t stand a chance against Bảo Tuấn rendition. He fucking owns that song like Tuấn Ngọc owns “Riêng Một Góc Trời.”

There’s a missing voice in 5 Dòng Kẻ’s new record. I had to google it to make sure I didn’t hear it incorrectly. It turns out that Hồng Ngọc had left the group four years ago. When Giáng Son moved on to focus on her writing and teaching, the group didn’t suffer much because Giáng Son was more of a composer than a singer. In fact, its 2007 release Cánh Mặt Trời was a huge leap forward without Giáng Son. The group experimented with new sound and storytelling experience. Their vocals had different range, but they were still harmonious.

With the departure of Hồng Ngọc, the group is losing the rough edges. Hồng Ngọc has a smoky contralto that not only complemented the group’s alto and mezzo-soprano, but also added textures to the entire ensemble. In the new album, Yêu, there’s no evil to contrast the angelic voices of Bảo Lan, Thùy Linh and Lan Hương. Unlike Tự Tình Ca and Cánh Mặt Trời, Yêu lacks the focus of an album concept. The record opens with “Đò Ngang,” which sets in an electronic backdrop that the group had previously explored in Cánh Mặt Trời. “Yêu Trọn Giấc Mơ” is orchestrated in a minimal setting using a string-picking instrument and piano as the main accompaniment. The problem is that the melody isn’t distinctive and dynamic enough to pull through six minutes. “Chạm” is also having the same melodic mundane that leaning toward the powerful-pop-ballad-accompanied-by-a-piano trend.

With the title track, which kicks off the second half of the album, the group switches up to a big beat groove mixed with traditional zither. The fusion is intriguing, but Bảo Lan seems to have a hard time deciding whether the tune should be instrumental or with words. The end result is in between, which is a huge disappointment. She should either ditch the words and incorporate more zither improvisation or make it into a song with lyrics. I kept waiting for the singing to join in, but never did.

“Rơi” is a standout and the group should have taken the dance approach to the entire album. The production is engaging even with the unnecessary rock riff. The clattering percussion starts off for a minute and a half before the singing kicks in. Then the vocals meshed beautifully even without Hồng Ngọc. As the title suggested, “Rơi” is like the group has letting go of everything and just let themselves fall into the music. The chorus is made up of not a catchy hook, but a serious of action words: “nghiêng (tilting), trôi (floating), lao đao (dizzying), mệt nhoài (exhausting), ngã gục (tumbling), rơi (falling), lao đi (fleeing), chạy (running), tìm kiếm (searching), chắp váp (patching) and hoang mang (puzzling).

Bảo Lan once again proves that she can write. The ten tracks on the album comes from her own pen as well as her own musical direction. She is obviously the anchor of the group. Without her, there’s no 5 Dòng Kẻ. Bảo Lan could easily break up the group and do her own things, sort of like what Justine Timberlake had done with ‘N Sync, but she decides to stay with the group is wonderful thing. Even though Yêu is not as successful and coherent as the group’s previous works, it is still an impressive record that’s filled with original compositions. I sincerely wish that the group sticks together and move forward in its own path.

M.I.A.’s forth release, Matangi, is all over the map. In the first verse of the title track, she literally name-drops countries around the world (from Somalia Bosnia to China Canada). Even the productions are all over the place ranging from Bollywood synthesizing to percussion clattering to bass blasting to Indian chanting to Arabic clubbing. As chaotic as the beats are, they make the album so damn hypnotic to experience.

If you can ignore the lyrics, you can just groove to every track, but that wouldn’t be an M.I.A.’s record. What makes M.I.A. brilliant is that she not only could get your feet stomping, but she could also get your ear to pay “aTENTion.” As an artist, M.I.A is not easy to pin down. In one track, she’s a bad girl who lives fast and dies young. In another, she’s a lady of rage with an afro puff who is “more Jiggy than Will.” Elsewhere she’s a Mathangi who is a “Goddess of word” and who sings “like a whore.”

Sure, Matangi is a hot mess. It’s incoherent, contradicting and frustrating, and yet it is also so compelling, fascinating and engaging at the same time. And that’s what make M.I.A. unique.

With The Marshall Mathers LP 2 Eminem revisits his 2000’s classic that was filled with controversial lyrics ranging from homophobic to misogynistic to straight antagonistic. So now, 13 years later, what has changed?

For once, his attitude toward his mama is more positive. In “Headlights” he even apologizes, “But I’m sorry mama for ‘Cleaning Out My Closet,’ at the time I was angry… That song I no longer play at shows and I cringe every time it’s on the radio.” While he’s still being criticized for his use of “faggots,” he’s not using it in a derogative way toward homosexuals. In “Rap God,” he’s placing the word in the context of a rap contest. In hip-hop battle, which Em was a master at it, your mission is to belittle your opponent.

In retrospect, Em’s narrative hasn’t changed much, particularly in the misogyny territory. In “So Much Better,” he plays off Jay Z’s: “I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one / She’s all 99 of ’em I need a machine gun.” In fact, in the past 13 years, he has struggled again and again with fresh contents. From 2004’s Encore to 2009’s Relapse to 2010’s Recovery, he hardly moved beyond his usual targets.

Going into The Marshall Mathers LP 2, I was not expecting Em to change his narrative, even though I hope he would. What makes him still one of the best MCs in the game, however, is his jaw-dropping delivery. He always pushes his craft to the next level. In “God Rap,” he spits rhymes like Usain Bolt for six damn minutes packing in so many syllables per second without slipping a word or missing a beat. Based on his rhyme skills, he earns the title of the “God Rap.”