Lil Wayne’s Tha Carter IV is finally here and well-worth the wait. Weezy is still at the top of his game. His flows are impeccable and his punchlines are as vivid as ever. Tha Carter IV boasted an impressive guest list from Rick Ross, Drake, Nas, Jadakiss, Bun B to Cory Gunz, but Weezy is still in the spotlight. Because even when he rhymes at ease, his guest stars have to push themselves hard to keep up with him. Weezy has his way with the beats on highlights including “Blunt Blowin’,” “MegaMan,” “President Carter,” “John” (featuring Rick Ross) and “So Special” (featuring John Legend). “How to Love” is the weakest track on the album. Weezy needs to get off the Auto-Tune singing.

Ngoc Ha has a powerful voice for such a petite figure, but what makes her stands out is the versatility in her delivery. She could maneuver her way around traditional folks as effortless as pop standards. She even throws in some ballroom ballads every now and then just to prove that she can do it.

Her latest release, Mau Thoi Gian, is yet another album showing off her range and trying to cover all bases. The problem is that too many different flavors just slowing down the show. Mau Thoi Gian begins with an excellent version of Quoc Dung’s “Ru Toi Giac Mong,” courtesy of the semi-classical arrangement. The violin solo and the piano comping heightened Ngoc Ha’s vocals.

The second track fails flat comparing to the impressive opener. From the mechanical production to Ngoc Ha’s lack of personal interoperation, her cover of Lam Phuong’s “Cho Em Quen Tuoi Ngoc” is a huge letdown. The music arrangement gets worse on the third track, Thanh Trang’s “Duyen The.” It’s one of those Thuy Nga’s typical mass productions that could get you drowsy quickly.

On the fourth track, Pho Duc Phuong’s “Tren Dinh Phu Van,” the album takes a sharp turn to northern traditional folks. The arrangement here is a wonderful mix of old melodic strings and new electronic rhythm and spacious vibes. The fifth track takes yet another departure to a safe, constrained version of Nguyen Anh 9’s “Co Don.” The sixth track, Pham Manh Cuong’s “Thu Ca,” takes a dizzy route to the dance floor with the ballroom tango. Ngoc Ha even glides into Tung Duong’s territory with Luu Ha An’s “Con Co,” but she doesn’t have the chops to bend notes and mess around with the melodic lines like he does.

With that kind of a range Ngoc Ha could have crafted each experience with each album. I would love to hear a whole album of her interpretation of Pham Duy’s songbook or an entire work of folks flavor. Hell, I would even jam to her ballroom record if she cuts one. Let’s just hope that she gets it. Making an album requires more than just throwing a bunch of tunes together with various styles and arrangements.

Ha Pham who is new to me has a very nice vocal range. She can reach her contralto or flight with her soprano with ease, but listeners can’t hear that on her new album, Tinh Thu, until they get to the last two tracks. Although her rendition of Trinh Cong Son’s “Diem Xua” is very poignant, she only uses her low tone. Even on the semi-classical arrangement of Nguyen Anh 9’s “Co Don” that provides the space for her to grab the high notes, she chooses to go for a more soothing delivery.

The breakthrough moment is when she skip a whole octave on Phu Quang’s “Thuong Lam Toc Dai Oi.” She trades back and forth between her mezzo-soprano and soprano effortlessly, particularly in these two lines: “Em van am tham di ve dau de ta thuong lam / Yem rach con ngan duoc gio, tinh em dang do, yem nao che.” Her take on Duong Thu’s “Goi Anh” is astounding. The tune starts out soft then progresses into a powerhouse opera, which is not all that stunning if you’re familiar with the tune or if you have heard of Thanh Lam’s version. What makes the track brilliant is to hear how Ha Pham build her crescendo to the climax. Her soprano on operatic singing is quite compelling.

Because she saves the big surprise for last, you feel like the album is just getting started. If the album were to kick off with “Goi Anh,” the experience would have been a disappointment. Mad props to Tran Manh Hung, Hoai Sa and Vo Thien Thanh for the savory orchestration and arrangement.

Anh Tuyet has a superb soprano and she could hit a G6 with ease, but her alto is even more hypnotic. When she reaches a G3, her voice gets slightly raspy. In a double-disc Anh Tuyet Hat Trinh Cong Son, some of her mesmerizing interpretation of Trinh’s compositions are the jazz-inflected arrangements in the low register.

Using her alto tone, Anh Tuyet intoxicates “Phuc Am Buon” with a bluesy rendition. The saxman has done a marvelous job of accompanying behind her rather than in front of her. Likewise, the subtle sax phrases on “Xin Mat Troi Ngu Yen” enhance the vocals. The comping piano and heartfelt alto remind me of Khanh Ly’s pre-1975 records, particularly “Dau Chan Dia Dang.” The blues fits well with “Vet Lan Tram” and Anh Tuyet’s low tone is so damn soulful that I wish she stays in that range.

In “Hay Khoc Di Em,” she switches back to her soaring soprano, which is a bit above the comfort level. The semi-classical guitar work on “Nhu Canh Vac Bay” is pretty nice, but again her high pitch is a bit too much to bear. The good thing is that only a few tracks get the soprano treatment. “Xin Tra No Nguoi,” “Diem Xua,” “Uot Mi” and Tinh Xa” are sung in low range with simple arrangements. The results are intimate and personal. Trinh’s aficionado would be pleased with this double set. Anh Tuyet has done Trinh’s music the justice in both vocal delivery and music arrangement.

Let’s make it official. I am now a huge fan of Quang Dung. His new release, Tinh Bong Choc La Khong, moved me. Sure, he covered heart-breaking ballads throughout his career, but never as convincing as he does on this album. Each tune shows that the divorce has taken a deep impact on his life.

The key success of Tinh Bong Choc La Khong is its target audience. Quang Dung sings these eleven tracks to nobody but Jennifer Pham, his ex-wife. Right off the opening track, Pham Duy’s “Yeu La Chet Trong Long,” Quang Dung croons like a bird with a broken wing. He means every word when he phrases, “Du toi khong muon tin la het / Tinh yeu nhu la theo mua chet.” Damn, that is some painful shit.

In Tram Tu Thieng’s “Hoi Tiec,” Quang Dung sings and swallows his tears at the same time. He’s already showing his regrets about the split up. Quang Dung’s rendition of Dieu Huong’s “Noi Buon Con Lai,” puts Quoc Khanh’s fake drama to shame with his effortlessness. One can hear his sadness and honesty without being screamed at.

In “Cho Nguoi,” “Tram Nho Ngan Thuong” and “Nhu Giac Chim Bao,” Quang Dung delivers Lam Phuong’s songs with a strong connection, like he could feel what Lam Phuong had gone through with his divorce. Quang Dung’s song choices, including Dieu Huong’s title track and Do Le’s “Tinh Phu,” are so spot on that he has singlehandedly crafted a broken-marriage anthem. If your husband or wife has just left your ass, this album is for you. I am going to buy me an extra copy and lock it in a vault just in case I might need it later on. Hey, you never know.

Tinh Bong Choc La Khong, in my personal opinion, is Quang Dung’s best work to date and Jennifer is the one to thank. She deserves all the credits. In fact, the album cover should say something like, “Album concept inspired by Jennifer Pham.” If I were her right now, I would take him back after listening to this album. Who wouldn’t? Unless you’re a heartless bitch.

Out of the three Clifford Brown’s albums I possess, I revisit quite often his live recordings with Art Blakey and Max Roach for energetic hard bop drives. The Jazz ‘Round Midnight collection, on the other hand, is for after-hour relaxation. Whether accompanying a vocalist or soloing with an orchestra, Brownie’s clear, rich tone brings out the beauty of ballad. His heart-rending rendition of “Willow Weep for Me, “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” and “(I don’t stand a) Ghost of a Chance” makes this set suitable for easy but soulful listening.

No one can do Ray Charles like brother Ray himself, not even with the three superstars, Willie Nelson, Wynton Marsalis and Norah Jones, came together.

Listening to Here We Go Again: Celebrating the Genius of Ray Charles makes me want to return to The Birth of the Soul box set. Brother Ray brought so much soul into his songs that Willie Nelson’s laid-back style came across as plain lazy. “Hit the Road Jack” and “Busted” for example, Ray sang with so much anguish that you can feel his pain, even though the lyrics suggested otherwise, whereas Nelson just sounded worn out. On “What’d I Say,” Ray’s moaning part was so damn seductive whereas Nelson’s “heys” and “hos” sounded like he needed some viagra to get it up, and Marsalis should stick to the trumpet rather than trying to micmic Ray.

Norah Jones’s version of “Come Rain or Come Shine” was soothing and Marsalis’s solo added a touch of tenderness to the tune. While the vocals are lackluster, Here We Go Again has enjoyable moments thanks to Marsalis’s traditional-but-sensational arrangement.

Nguyen Hong Nhung’s latest release, Duong Nhu, displays her maturity in handling classic ballads. From Cung Tien’s “Hoai Cam” to Pham Duy’s “Nghin Trung Xa Cach” to Trinh Cong Son’s “Ru Em Tung Ngon Xuan Nong,” she delivers each song with soulfulness and tastefulness, but still lacking the uniqueness. Because these timeless tunes have been sung to death from generation to generation, they need to be reinvigorated. Singing them straight on the melody just won’t cut it.

The strength of the album isn’t from the classic covers, but from Mai Thanh Son’s compositions. “Duong Nhu” and “Nghiet Nga” blend surprisingly well with the rest of the tracks on the album despite they are written by a young musician. “Duong Nhu” is captivating thanks to the little bluesy keyboard licks in the arrangement. Mai Thanh Son has not only done a wonderful job of producing it, he has also done an excellent of penning the lyrics. “Nghiet Nga” is also well written. The lyrics and the melody are far better than today’s trendy pop tunes.

When Mai Thanh Son appeared on Asia’s stage singing well-known English tunes, I couldn’t figure out why Asia took him under its wing. His weak, virgin voice doesn’t stand out, but now I can see where his real talent is. He is a fantastic arranger, which I had noticed when he produced some tracks for Nguyen Khang’s show. Now his tunes on Nguyen Hong Nhung’s album make me interested in his work behind the scene more than in front of the camera and on the mic. The good thing is that he lets Nguyen Hong Nhung sings his songs. Listening to both of his and her version of “Nghiet Nga,” one can clearly tell that Nguyen Hong Nhung kicked the tune up a notch.

On the evening of May 26, 2011, I took the Metro home from work just like any ordinary day, except the heat rised above 90 degrees. My final destination was Vienna/Fairfax-GMU Station. I usually waited by the the bus stop on the northside for my wife and son to pick me up, but on that day I waited inside the terminal to hear two young buskers (a male on violin and female on cello) sawing away some classical pieces. While observing their playing, I could hear faithly a trumpet sound from the southside of the terminal.

Fifteen minutes went by and still didn’t see my wife’s car so I walked over to the other side to check out the other busker. The man who was soaking sweat under the sun was in the middle of playing a mid-tempo solo accompanied by a pre-programmed rhythm section coming out of a speaker that was connected to an iPod.

He had a big tone with clean chops that are reminscent of Miles Davis. At the end of the tune, I complimented him, “You have the Miles sound.” He replied, “Thanks. Today is Miles’ birthday.” I was like, “Really?” He nodded his head while dialing his iPod. He went on, “I got some Miles’ tunes for you.” Then he began to play his own interpretion of “Milestones” and “Four.” He also covered a beautiful ballad, “It Never Entered My Mind,” on both muted and open trumpet.

After hearing the three tunes, I wanted to get his CD, but he only had one left. He warned me that the CD is a smooth jazz and he didn’t think a Miles freak like me would enjoy it. I copped it away.

The trumpeter’s name was Freddie Dunn and Longing for the Moon featured most of his original compositions except for Thelonious Monk’s “Monk’s Mood” and Eden Ahbez’s “Nature Boy.” The album opens with “Looking at the Moon.” The soothing, late-night groove indeed suggests a smooth flavor, but Dunn was able to squeeze out some melodic phrases against the pre-arranged beat.

On “VinBev.com,” “Nature Boy” and “Toonin’ In,” Dunn uses the muted tone to create a startling sound that reminded me of what Miles had done on Tutu, one of my personal favorites of Electric Miles. “Toonin’ In,” in particular, is so hauntingly wicked as if his pointed playing was cutting through the urban beat. “Fre-chan” is a sensational collaboration with altoman Eugene Chapman. After the two horn players take turn chopping up the funkified beat, Dunn returns to the slow, relaxing “Monk’s Mood” to showcase his ballad playing.

Dunn was being modest when he told me that Longing for the Moon is a smooth jazz album. Sure the records are lay back and mellow, yet his solos are anything but sleepy or boring. I am so glad that I spotted him.

Poor thang. My future ex-mistress Hoang Thuy Linh has fallen into a sophomore slump. Luu Thien Huong has made an erroneous move by replicating the success of Hoang Thuy Linh’s debut. Dung Voi Vang ended up sounding like leftover junks from the first album.

Dance-pop formula once again applied, but way less effective on Dung Voi Vang. The productions are still high quality, but static even the club joints. The lyrics are banal with no punchlines. The heavy use of Auto-Tune makes Hoang Thuy Linh sounds more like machine than human. It also exposes her weakness: limited range.

Whereas the previous album has three solid, addictive slow jams (“Cam On Vi Da Yeu Em,” “Anh Co Nho Gi” and “Cho Nhau Loi Di Rieng”), this one has none. “Lai Lan Nua” is just slow and boring. On “Em Se La Giac Mo,” she sounds as if she was rather sleeping than singing. The English hook, “I wanna run,” on “Chay Tron” can get really irritating. The closing “Giau” is the only tune that she’s actually feeling the beat.