Quốc Khanh & Đan Nguyên – Nhớ Mẹ

Nhớ Mẹ sounds like a project Quốc Khanh and Đan Nguyên, the two buddies who shared the same inspiration, got together and just made the recordings. Their straightforward approach to classic tunes is surprisingly fresh.

On the title track, the two sing in unison and they sound so in tuned that it is almost impossible to tell them apart. Trúc Hồ made the clever decision of keeping the accompaniment to just strumming guitars to allow the boys to pour out their hearts.

In contrast, “Một Mai Giã Từ Vũ Khí” (Trịnh Lâm Ngân) showcases each individual voice. Đan Nguyên has a slight advantage because the tune fits his signature style, but Quốc Khanh is quite convincing as well with his candid delivery. They both sound marvelous together on the chorus. While Giang Tử’s rendition of the same song is told through a man who had experienced the wartime, Quốc Khanh’s and Đan Nguyên’s version is narrated through the sons of the veteran.

The aspiration is further displayed on Quốc Khanh’s cover of “Anh Không Chết Đâu Em” (Trần Thiện Thanh). Unfortunately Quốc Khanh used an old production from Trúc Hồ instead of coming up with his own. For art sake, he could have remixed it a bit even just slowing down or speeding up the tempo. That’s just pure laziness since he proves that he could make a decent beat for “Trên Đầu Súng” (Anh Việt Thu).

Đan Nguyên steps up his game on “Mất Nhau Rồi” (Ngân Trang), “Thành Phố Sau Lưng” (Hàn Châu) and “Liên Khúc Thành Phố Buồn” (Lam Phương). His phrasing has improved tremendously over the years. He brings a new vibe of youthfulness on the timeless tunes and he knows not to over-sentimentalize the lyrics.

While Nhớ Mẹ is not groundbreaking, it serves as a moment of introspection to remind us the part of Vietnamese history that we could never forget. Quốc Khanh and Đan Nguyên are among many of the Asia family to carry on the tradition.

Quang Tuấn – Chiều Vàng

If music were his spouse, Quang Tuấn is a faithful man. He doesn’t cheat because he makes no attempt on experimenting with new styles. As a result, his work is very predictable. Even without listening to his new release Chiều Vàng, anyone who has heard of Quang Tuấn previous works would get a sense of how he would sing the songs.

On the positive side, Quang Tuấn’s dedication on nurturing the relationship with music and honing his skills paid off. He delivers “Tình Rơi” (Hồ Đăng Long) with a flawless effort. He rides the semi-classical arrangment with poise and elegant. His rendition of “Đường Xa Vạn Dặm” (Trịnh Công Sơn) is damn near perfection as a homage than a reinterpretation. Staying with the written melody worked out well in those cases, but Quang Tuấn could learn a thing or two from his mentor Tuấn Ngọc on the subtlety of flying off notes on “Xin Trả Nợ Người.”

While some of the jazzy arrangements add a bit of new flavors to the classic tunes, Quang Tuấn’s dead-on interpretations, like “Chiều Nay Không Có Em” (Ngô Thụy Miên) and the title track, are a tad tiring. “Đoá Hoa Vô Thường (Trịnh Công Sơn), which clocks in nine and a half minutes, gets worn out even with some uptempo switch-up.

For an independent production, Chiều Vàng is a commendable effort. At the same time, Quang Tuấn has complete creative freedom to do whatever he wants and to break himself out of the box.

Trang Nhung – Son

Love it when a musician goes the extra miles crafting an experience rather than just cutting an album. Son is an outstanding contemporary folks record to be listened from start to finish thanks to Trang Nhung’s superb music taste and thought-out theme.

From the opening “Son” (Đức Nghĩa) to the closing “Lời Ru Âu Lạc” (Nguyễn Minh Sơn), each composition is selected with care to suit her beautiful voice. Furthermore, she approaches each tune with soul, simplicity, clarity and an appreciation and comprehension of Vietnamese various folks styles.

While her rendition of “Không Thể Và Có Thể” (Phó Đức Phương) is emphatic without over-dramatic, her own “Áo Dài Việt Nam,” which based on her husband’s poetry, is graceful to showcase the elegant beauty of Vietnamese long dress: “Dịu dàng và dịu dàng / chiếc áo thật thứ tha / Nghiêng nghiêng hồn sông núi / Nghiêng nghiêng bóng tre xanh.” I can visualize the mountains part, but not the bamboo part on “áo dài.”

What makes Son so damn enjoyable is that each song stands out on its own and yet goes well together as a whole package thanks to the breathtaking arrangments courtesy of Minh Mẫn and Yên Lam. The incorporation of traditional Vietnamese musical instruments with Western rhythm section and horns not only add new vibes to the album, but also bring out fresh flavors to favorites such as “Giấc Mơ Trưa” (Giáng Son), “Ôi Quê Tôi” (Lê Minh Sơn) and “Chênh Vênh” (Lê Cát Trọng Lý). Haven’t heard a Vietnamese album this good in quite a while.

Hồng Nhung – Vòng Tròn

After her groundbreaking Khu Vườn Yên Tĩnh released almost seven years ago, she retreated to the safe territory covering Trinh Cong Son’s songs and collaborating with her platonic pal Quang Dũng. The new release Vòng Tròn is an attempt to reinvent her style.

The title track and “Nghịch Nắng” start off promising. With spacious, mid tempo, electronic arrangments courtesy of Quốc Trung, the two tracks pick up where Khu Vườn Yên Tĩnh left off. Just when we’re about to get into the zone, the third track kicks us right back out and let us down all the way through. The production on “Danh Vọng” is just robotic and so is Hồng Nhung’s English singing. Even though her enunciation has been improved over the years, clarity is still an issue, which further proved on “Papa” and “Anh Đừng Đi.”

As for the rest of the tracks, Hồng Nhung is drowned out by the trunk-rattle bass and soft-rave productions. Her modern view of “Sài Gòn” is damn near unrecognizable as if the city is all about partying, popping E and chilling out. The use of Auto-Tune on “Bống Bống Bang Bang” testifies that Hồng Nhung is indeed trying to hard to stay young. Even though she is good at hiding her age—she looks as if she is getting younger as the years gone by—the change in her music reveals the desperation of trying to be ageless. Would you rather see Bống in a quiet garden or in the club grooving in circles? I rather see the former because I am a grown-ass man who isn’t pretending that I am still belong to the club.

Công Lâm – Chàng Trai Việt

From the opening title track to the closing “Hồn Việt,” (both written by Minh Châu), Chàng Trai Việt is indeed a patriotic album. With his charming, authoritative tenor, Công Lâm effortlessly navigated through epic-orchestrated pieces including Phạm Đình Chương’s “Tiếng dân chài” and Phạm Duy’s “Áo anh sứt chỉ đường tà.” Yet, the success of the album isn’t just his voice alone. It’s the combination of right song choices, strong supportive from backup vocal groups and excellent musical arrangements. Chàng Trai Việt is well-crafted and well-thoughtout. Definitely worth experiencing from start to finish.

Still Loving Stacey Kent

I felt in love with Stacey Kent a couple weeks ago and still do so with several more albums. Her clear enunciation combined with her no-nonsense phrasing makes her so damn pleasure to listen to during work and drive.

Raconte-Moi is my favorite album for the morning commute. Ms. Kent’s romantic French-singing and the tasty arrangements, particularly the bossa nova groove on the first two tracks (“Les Eaux De Mars” and “Jardin D’hiver”) are a perfect way to start the gorgeous autumn day.

The Lyric is a lovely collaboration with her husband, saxophonist Jim Tomlinson. The album kicks off with an instrumental cover of “Manha De Carnival.” While it is a beautiful, one would wish Ms. Kent lent her voice to the track because Mr. Tomlinson isn’t Paul Desmond nor Stan Getz. The ones featured Ks. Kent, including “I’ve Grown Accustomed To His Face,” “If I were A Bell” and “My Heart Belongs To Daddy,” are sensational.

Breakfast On The Morning Tram truly showcases Ms. Kent as a gifted storyteller. From “The Ice Hotel” to “Landslide” to “I Wish I Could Go Traveling Again” and the title track, Ms. Kent brought novelist Kazuo Ishiguro’s lyrics to life like she was narrating to a romantic film with simple picking guitar. The album strangely ends with her straightforward reading of “What a Wonderful World.”

I still have a few more albums of her to get through, but these three are pure pleasure.

Khánh Phương – Nước Mắt Vì Sao Rơi

Like most marketable pop releases in Vietnam, Khánh Phương’s Nước Mắt Vì Sao Rơi is packed with catchy melodies, contagious hooks and chuckling lyrics. Just pick out any tune on the album and you can figure out the formula. The chorus on “Nếu Không Có Anh Ta” goes: “Nếu không có anh ta em có thấy buồn không? / Lúc trống vắng cô đơn hãy nhớ anh một lần.” Who wouldn’t get a giggle out of conversational lines like that?

But what makes Khánh Phương stands out is his charming, gruff voice combined with his carefree swagger in delivering the words. He’s a reminiscent of Tuấn Hưng in his “Tình Yêu Lung Linh” hey-days. (Tuấn Hưng sings like he had taken doses of Zolpidem nowadays.) Khanh Phuong, on the other hand, sounds energetic on a mid-tempo groove like “Lựa Chọn Một Hạnh Phúc” and so damn sincere on puppy-love, slow jams like “Đừng Hỏi Vì Sao,” particularly on the hook: “Lúc mới khi yêu sẽ buồn lúc mới khi yêu sẽ vui / Lúc mới khi yêu sẽ nhớ / Đến lúc con tim đổi thay chẳng biết được vì sao đổi thay / vẫn thương vẫn yêu vẫn nhớ nhưng nhớ thương chỉ trong vài giây.”

The album loses its strength when he gets too Chinese-sounding on “Người Ra Đi Vì Ai” and “Hãy Ra Đi Nếu Em Muốn.” Nevertheless Nước Mắt Vì Sao Rơi has its shining moments before fading away in the fast-changing pop scene.

Loving Stacey Kent

The whole week, Stacey Kent was the only voice playing on my commute trips. She helped me relaxed in the morning and eased the traffic jam in the evening. After listening to each indivudual album, Hushabye Mountain, The Boy Next Door and In Love Again, I put all three on random and still loved every song she sings.

Ms. Kent has a very soothing voice with both angelic and child-like tone. She swings in perfect phrasing and she sings ballad in its purest emotion. She has the style of both Billie Holiday and Norah Jones rolled in one. Yet what makes me so addicted to her singing is the way she articulated each word. The clarity in her pronunciation is simply amazing. Each word is so crisp and effortless that she makes you pay attention to every intimate sound she makes. If she was to sing a dictionary, I would have still listened with undivided attention. I can’t wait to set my ears on her French record, Raconte-Moi, even though I only know a few French words.

Sophie Milman – In the Moonlight

Sophie Milman’s previous release, one of my personal favorites, Take Love Easy, proved that the twenty-something vocalist could swing, scat and seduce even within a straight jazz combo setting. Her recent release, In the Moonlight, added another layer of sophistication with the backing of luscious strings.

The first two tracks, “Do It Again” and “Oh Look at Me Now,” show once again that Ms. Milman still has the swag to swing gently. The third title track, however, displays not only her deep sensibility for bossa-nova rhythm, but also her sensual confidence with lush orchestration. Yet the sexiest track on the whole joint has to be her interpretation of “Ces Petits Riens.” Her flirtatious French-singing backed up by sensational Spanish arrangement is like Alizé blended with Patrón: sweet yet delicate, strong yet smooth. The guitar and accordion solos are like adding lime and fresh mint leaves to the mix. There goes my very own recipe for “Ces Petits Riens” cocktail inspired by Sophie Milman.

Although I prefer Ms. Milman’s straight swing and ballad translation over orchestral flourish, In the Moonlight is a perfect accompaniment for the cool autumn season. It’s definitely a romantic record.

Dam Vinh Hung – Anh Con No Em

Damn, Dam Vinh Hung hasn’t sound this good in years. Anh Con No Em is a return to his syrupy signature that once made him popular. Other than the title track, which is passable, and a pseudo-swing rendition of “Bien Can,” the album heads straight to trendy pop shop filled with ear-candy hooks and DVH knows the important of singing the hooks. On the rest of the tracks, particularly “Khong Con La Tre Dai” and “Loi Thoat Nao Cho Nhau,” DVH caresses the hooks, makes luscious love to the hooks and even married to the hooks. Unlike many of his previous releases, DHV knows how to control himself. Instead of belting out at the top of his lung, he gives the notes just enough force and power to let you feel his pain and soul. Sure, Anh Con No Em will be forgotten in the next six months, but right now it is on heavy rotation.